Saturday, December 29, 2018

HAPPY 2019

I'm starting 2019 with a bang! All will be revealed in the first week of January. Meanwhile, my friends, happy New Year and may all manner of blessings rain down on all our lovely little heads today, tomorrow and everyday hereafter.

Saturday, December 22, 2018


Joy, peace and love to each and every one of you for Christmas and 2019. May you light up a bit of the gloom, wherever you are.

 NdA 2018 Acrylic on paper 20 x 5 cms

Wednesday, December 12, 2018


Beautiful evening on Monday hearing Simon Armitage read from his translation (Middle English to modern English) of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and seeing Clive Hicks-Jenkins' joyous illustrations for this book projected hugely on a screen in the holy but not austere ambiance of St. Dunstan-in-the West on Fleet Street.

Wine and mince pies were on hand, courtesy of Faber & Faber the book's publisher, but best of all for me was finally meeting Clive and his life-partner Peter Wakelin, in real life. Clive and I have been friends at a distance for years but until now never managed to be in the same place at the same time. 

We both have been closely associated with the Old Stile Press, working with Nicolas and Frances McDowall on some of our artists' books. To actually embrace Clive and Peter last night, two gifted and life-enhancing individuals, was a thrill I won't forget.

One of Clive Hicks-Jenkins illustrations for the bool.

Simon Armitage reading from the pulpit at St. Dunstan, 10 December 2018

St. Dunstan-in-the-West, Fleet Street

Printmaker Dan Bugg in foreground, Clive Hicks-Jenkins in the middle, Joe Pearsonat at the far end, 10/12/18

Saturday, December 08, 2018


I started this self-portrait last April, worked fast, didn't like it. Turned its face to the wall. Occasionally stared and fiddled with it. Left it to marinate for a few months. This evening I finished it.

I've been emerging all my long artist's life. Does anyone ever stop emerging?

Self-Portrait as Emerging Artist. 2018. Oil on canvas 25 x 30 cms


If I'm annoyed with myself, the world or any other temporary irritation, there's a simple remedy which never fails to banish the mood.

I put on a record and dance. The music must have a steady beat, a strong rhythm, nothing avant or après-garde. Some country & western, some rock & roll, tango definitely, samba, yes. Couldn't care less if my choice of dance music is un-cool. I'm on my own, dancing solo, and if my hip joints ain't what they used to be, so what? I can still move to the rhythm, it still frees my mind and lights my fire.

Tonight it was Waylon Jennings. If you're rolling your eyes, roll away! It's fun and it works. Choose your music and dance!


Way back when I was Hatshepsut, I liked wearing silver clothes. Still like a bit of glitter. Glitter today, fade tomorrow. Or maybe: faded today, shiny tomorrow?

Tuesday, December 04, 2018


This painting is finished. It's the first in a new abstract series I'm embarking on. The title of this one is To Johann Sebastian Bach because it's what some of Bach's music feels like, the movement in space it conjures up for me. I'd love to animate this painting. Maybe I'll try.

 To Johann Sebastian Bach. December 2018. Acrylic on rag paper mounted on board. 44 x 45 cms

Monday, November 26, 2018


It's winter already. Pleased with myself for spending less time at the computer and more on art work. But then there's an idiotic kind of guilt. Guilty for neglecting........what? My facebook audience? Sitting in their seats, waiting for the show to start? My ongoing onewoman show. Idiot guilt. I'll post something soon, don't go away.

Thursday, November 15, 2018


Over the years, a multitude of years, I've accumulated hundreds, maybe thousands of notebooks, diaries, memos, sketchbooks into which I poured thoughts, ideas, projects, questions, answers, observations. Whenever I come across one or more of them it's like reconnecting with a long lost much to catch up with. I don't recognise some of the things I wrote, they seem to come from a part of my consciousness I'm not familiar with but intrigued by.

I'd love to find someone who could transcribe all this handwritten/drawn stuff into some digital format so that I could review it as a whole and decide whether to do something more with it. Do any of you know of such a person or service?

Tonight, looking for something else, I found this ballpoint sketch in an old notebook, based on a famous masterpiece obviously, but I can't remember which one - any ideas?

Thursday, November 08, 2018


Democrat gains to be thankful for in the US elections but the world news in general seem to be moving at the speed of darkness rather than light. What to do except to keep on keeping on?

Here's a new work in progress, still a lot to do on it. Am focusing on light, colour and unfamiliar space. So far untitled.

NdA. Work in progress, untitled. Nov.2018  Acrylic on rag paper.

Tuesday, November 06, 2018


Trying not to think of the American election. Using up remains of acrylic paint on my palette, came up with these.
NdA  2018  Too Many Words Acrylic on paper. 21 x 14.5 cms
NdA 2018  Girl in Headscarf  Acrylic on paper. 21 x 14.5 cms

Wednesday, October 31, 2018


A week ago Rachel Barenblat, AKA The Velveteen Rabbi, invited a few long-term bloggers, including me, to participate in a  celebration of at least 15 years of blogging and to answer the question: Why the hell am I still blogging?

As a result, a few of us who, via our blogs, became offline as well as online friends, opened a joint  document to share our thoughts and agreed to post the conversation simultaneously on our blogs.

Here are excerpts from our discussion, jointly blogged here and at:

Velveteen Rabbi  Rachel Barenblat

Via Negativa   Dave Bonta

Hoarded Ordinaries  Lorianne DiSabato

mole   Dale Favier

the cassandra pages  Beth Adams

Rachel: Writing is one of the fundamental ways I experience and explore the world, both the external world and my own internal world. I think it was EM Forster who wrote, “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?” Blogging as I’ve come to understand it is living one’s life in the open, with spiritual authenticity and intellectual curiosity, ideally in conversation or relationship with others who are doing the same.

Dave: At some level, it’s easier to keep blogging at Via Negativa, the Morning Porch, and Moving Poems than it is to stop. Basically I’m an addict. Writing poetry is fun for me — entering that meditative head-space required for immersion in writing. As for the social aspect, I’ve been in, or on the periphery of, several distinct blogging communities over the years, and at one time, we all commented on each other’s sites, but with the rise of social media, most blog commenting went away — and I’m not entirely sure that’s a bad thing. Writing and responding to comments did take up a lot of my time ten years ago, and now that I can scratch that conversational itch on Twitter, or in real life with my partner, I’m OK with most interactions on my blogs being limited to pings. But I must immediately qualify that and admit that Via Negativa is a special case, because for well over half its existence now I’ve enjoyed the virtual companionship of a co-blogger, the brilliant and prolific poet Luisa Igloria, and a small number of occasional guest bloggers as well. I wouldn’t say I’m competitive, but Luisa’s commitment to a daily poetry practice has definitely forced me to up my game. Then there’s Mr. Pepys. My Pepys Diary erasure project grew directly from sociability: my partner and I wanted to read the online version of the diary together, and I worried I might eventually get bored with it if I weren’t mining it for blog fodder.

Lorianne: I am not attached to the medium, but I am attached to the message, and the process of creating/sharing that message.  There has been a lot of hand-wringing among bloggers over the “death of the blog,” with long-time (and former) bloggers worried about attention divides between blogs and social media.  Where do “I” live if I post in multiple places: on blog, in a paper notebook, on social media? For those of us who do all three, the result can be confusing, distracting, and frazzling…or it can be creative, collaborative, and synergistic.

 DaleI didn’t really expect ever to have readers, so in a way, having readership dwindle is a return to the early days… I’ve outlived some of my personas — I’m no longer recognizeably very Buddhist, and my politics have morphed in some odd ways. I don’t think I’m as salable an item as I used to be :-) But the inertia, as Dave said. When I do have something to say and my censor doesn’t step in, the blog is still where I go. It’s been home for fifteen years: my strand of the web… The community that was established way back when is still important to me, and still a large part of my life. And there’s still a lot of value in having a public space. The act of making something public changes it, changes how I look at. I become the viewers and the potential viewers. It helps me get out of myself. It helps me work through my favorite game of “what if I’m wrong about all these things?”

BethI think a lot of it has to do with a sense of place. My blog is like a garden or a living room that I’ve put energy and thought and care into as a place that’s a reflection of myself and is hopefully welcoming for others.. The discipline of gathering work and talking about it coherently has been extremely good for me and for my art practice. And I’ve also really appreciated and been inspired by other people who do the same, whatever their means of expression. There’s something deeply meaningful about following someone’s body of work, and their struggles, over not just months but years. In today’s climate of too-muchness and attention-seeking and short attention spans, I feel so encouraged and supported by the quiet, serious doggedness of other people like me!

Natalie: Why the hell still blogging? Not sure I am still blogging. I put something up on Facebook whenever I feel like saying hey, listen, or hey, look at this. Then I copy/paste the post to Blogger where I keep Blaugustine going, mainly out of a sense of imaginary duty. The idea that there are some real people out there who may be actually interested in some of my thoughts and/or artwork is undoubtedly attractive, even necessary. I live a mostly hermit life and don’t get much feedback of any kind. But my interior life is very active, all the time, and having a tiny public platform online where I can put stuff is really helpful. To be perfectly honest I think that’s about it for me and blogging at present. I don’t do any other social media, it would all take too much time which I’d rather devote to artwork.

Thursday, October 25, 2018


This one I rediscovered last week among some other unfinished paintings, got re-excited by it, re-worked it and now it's finished. Not sure when I started it, maybe 1990s or early 2000. I've always always loved vertical or horizontal bands of colour. If something keeps on coming back to you, like a theme song, surely it means that you should pay attention and follow wherever it leads you.

Buried Temple. Finished 2018. Acrylic on paper 37 x 37 cms

Thursday, October 18, 2018


The first version of the construction Entrance to the Temple was a painting in acrylic on paper.

Working in a non-objective manner - ie not depicting any familiar objects - is a process I've always found fascinating even if I never, unlike some artists I highly admire, took the radical decision to give up representation altogether. I might still do that, time permitting. What is representation anyway? All in the eye of.

The interesting thing I've noticed is that my mind goes into a completely different place when working in an abstract, as opposed to a figurative manner. Maybe a left brain/right brain shift but there is definitely a change in perception. Obviously every artist will have different experiences but for me, making an abstract work is more like digging in the earth or deep-sea diving to uncover some pre-existing thing than looking and interpreting what my eye sees.

Entrance to the temple, first version. Acrylic on paper (52 x 67 cms
Another abstract....though it has definite subject matter for me, music in this case. I had a studio in Belsham Street, Hackney, at the time and for some reason I can't remember, I cut off the left-hand section of this canvas. It was a stupid decision. A snapshot remains of it hanging in the studio before my auto-vandalism. I still like this painting as it is now (first photo).

Music of Love. 1994 Oil on canvas 50 x 60 cms

Belsham Street studio 1994. NdA with unfinished self-portrait and "Music of Love" before I cut off part of the left-hand side of the canvas.

Thursday, October 11, 2018


More to come shortly of ancient Egypt-inspired art. Meanwhile my friends Frances and Nicolas McDowall, who are the Old Stile Press (that's not a typo: it's Stile, not Style) have just been celebrated in an excellent article and a comprehensive video interview (click on the link) for the magazine Studio International. 

Through our mutual love for the art and craft of making books by hand the McDowalls and I became friends many years ago and embarked on collaborations several times, always exciting, challenging and hugely satisfying when the result finally emerges after months of sustained effort and lively discussions. 

If you look up my name on the OSP list of artists who have worked with them you'll find the other books I've done with the Press, the latest of which was in 2015, illustrating Dick Jones' English translation of Blaise Cendrars' TransSiberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France. Pages from our book are on the Old Stile Press website at the above link.

Monday, October 08, 2018


More ancient Egyptian inspiration. This one came out of my love for angles within angles, as in the entrances and passageways of pyramids and temples. The painting is built in sections, some of which project from the surface.

Entrance to the Temple.1998 Mixed media construction. Acrylic, wood, cardboard, paper. 54 x 66 cms

Entrrance to the Temple - side view.


A few more examples of the ancient Egypt theme in some of my work. From a modern mind-set it's impossible to imagine with any degree of accuracy what it was really like to live at that time in that society. But what remains of its culture speaks to me in the language of architecture, art, artefacts, symbols, texts, colour, line, shape, intention. It's familiar, like family, like family albums.

My Egypt Room. January 2000. 33 x 25.5 x 8.5 cms
Mixed media. Wooden box with hinged glass lid.

My Egypt Room. With lid closed.

Wednesday, October 03, 2018


Nothing I can say hasn't already been said about the tragic, outrageous, infuriating events currently in the news and venting my own emotions about them on this page serves no purpose whatever.
So....lalalalala... I'm just going to post some more images of my own artworks, starting wih a few inspired by my fascination-connection with ancient Egypt (as mentioned on my birthday 7th August). These two works are from 1996, small and for sale either separately or together. If interested, please PM me.

The process for these was as follows: first I made a clay and paper mould then took a plaster cast from it. Using paper pulp I made the cast (Scribe No.2) and another cast on thin cloth (Scribe No.1), adding colour.
Scribe No.1 - 1996 Plaster and mixed media. 18 x13 cm (7 x 5 inches)caption

Scribe No.2 - 1996 Cast paper. 20 x 14 cm (8 x 5.5 inches)


He's gone, beautiful Charles Aznavour. Adieu mon cher Azna.

Thursday, September 20, 2018


My living room with portrait of Fionn Wilson and some of my other work. Nearly everything (except me) is for sale.

Tuesday, September 18, 2018


Speaking of cheekbones, how about jowls? I was, I must admit, rather obsessed with jowls and went so far as to make a video on the subject way back in 1997 when some of you weren't even born. I may have posted this video before - if so, apologies. My philosophy is that not taking one's self too seriously is the secret of...happiness? Wisdom?

Have a look at JOWLS and tell me what you think.

Sunday, September 16, 2018


Finished my main piece for the Christine Keeler exhibition and a smaller one is nearly done. Won't post photos until the show opens next year but Fionn Wilson came over last night and she loves the work so I'm happy she's happy and we had a great time drinking too much (for me) wine and talking. Am very foggy headed and more stiff-jointed than usual today but Alka Seltzer has been taken.

A selfie shot yesterday in the bathroom mirror. I never use my phone to take photos as everyone else seems to do and I'm told there are apps to make one's self look more cheek-bony etc. I still use a regular camera and my cheek bones are still invisible.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018


Every September there's a street party organised by the people who live in my neighbourhood. It's a great example of how community spirit can make something enjoyable for everyone happen effectively, smoothly, without friction and with unstinting cooperation, all tasks voluntarily undertaken. Good food cooked and served, children's activities. raffles, dog show, magic, film show, dancing, and always music, one or more bands always invited to perform.

This year my friend, the fabulosa Brazilian/English singer Nina Miranda and her two marvellous musicians: Antony Elvin (guitar & voice) Oli Savill (percussion) performed in the afternoon and evening on the blue-canopied stage. It was pure joy to be there.

Some small animals were brought for children to get to know and to hold.

Tuesday, September 04, 2018


About to dry my face on bathroom towel I notice a small black spot on the towel. Within a split second the following things happen:

The spot moves.
It's a spider.
I panic.
Shake the towel over the basin.
Exterminate innocent spider down the plug hole with hot water.
Feel guilty and relieved.
Philosophise for a few moments.

Within that black spot everything was working, that little engine perfectly tuned. Life!
I can't make life, can't make anything as perfectly functioning as a spider.
Bang! In that spider's life I was Death.

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

THOUGHTS project

Just to keep you entertained, here's something I did pre-Facebook. I was going to publish it as some kind of little booklet but didn't get round to it. Should I do it? It's called Thoughts: the Kinds We Have.

Here's the first part. And the second part. And the third part.

Thursday, August 23, 2018


Concentrating flat out on my work for the Christine Keeler exhibition curated by Fionn Wilson. Has to be finished by next month. Am an expert procrastinator but when I actually get down to something, the candle burns at both ends and in the middle. All or nothing, c'est moi.

Even Pushkin the visiting cat can't distract me and he doesn't like that one bit. He's expressed disapproval in no uncertain terms.

Gotta stop now, going back to my upstairs garret to work.

Tuesday, August 07, 2018


It is now officially my birthday and I am about to reveal a number that you, my tiny, cherished audience, have been waiting for.

Here it is: my actual, factual, chronological age is 3524.

Just do the maths:
from the 7th August 1507 BC to the 7th August 2018 AD is precisely 3524 years, 42,288 months, 1 million 287 thousand 128 days. Fact! Let me explain.

In my previous life, the one just before this one, I was born as Hatshepsut in Egypt,18th dynasty, in the year 1507 BC. If you studied ancient history you will have heard of me. If you haven't, you can Google me. Yes yes I know! When people believe in past lives they always think they were celebrities. But that's not my case because I actually WAS Hatshepsut. Tina Turner also says she was Hatshepsut. We were probably friends back then and Tina is terrific but she was not Hatshepsut, obviously, because I was. I have loads of proof.

As Hatshepsut, I died in 1458 BC but my mummy was only discovered in 2007 AD. In 1992 I made a bookwork called NATSHEPSUT (get it?)

Now you can wish me happy re-birth day.

NATSHEPSUT 1992. One-of-a-kind bookwork. Mixed media.
Book: 40 x 15cm. Box: 25 X 50.5 X 9.5cm.

The title combines Natalie with Hatshepsut, the XVIII dynasty female Pharaoh, with whom I have a special affinity. A 'sarcophagus'made from a mahogany drawer is painted with Egyptian and personal symbols and contains the book, wrapped in stained linen cloth, on one side of which I wrote a poem (see below) which is repeated on the pages. On the reverse of the wrapper are transfers of newspaper cuttings about the discovery of Hatshepsut's tomb and extracts from an old passport of mine. The book has wooden covers, carved and decorated with sand and sequins. It is attached to concertina-folded Arches pages and supported by a central wooden pillar. The images, printed on both sides of the paper from stencils, are a mixture of Egyptian and personal scenes including part of a landscape near the Rio Paraguay where I once lived, resembling the Nile.

Sunday, August 05, 2018


I forgot that I actually did some sit-down comedy, all by myself, in 2008. That's ten years ago! Ten.

I may have already posted this video here some time ago but even so, nobody will remember it so here goes .

I think it's hilarious but you might not agree. Should I allow Hank to perform again?


Careers I'd choose if it wasn't too late to start again:

1. Sit-down comic.
(I could be funny sitting down)

2. Singer-songwriter.
(I could sing and make up songs)

3. Plumber.
(I'd be making more money than I've ever had)

Thursday, August 02, 2018


A significant matter looms on the horizon. Five days from now, the 7th of August, will be my birth day. Why this matter should be significant is a mystery equivalent to the mystery of why there is matter at all and whether we exist.

The more digits are added to the number of years I've been on this planet, the more questions I have. The question I have at this precise moment is:

Should I reveal the exact number my day of birth signifies? If I do reveal this secret I have closely guarded, will I get the tilt of the head, the indulgent expression reserved for babies, kittens and the very old, accompanied by exclamations of "Awww!" "Amazing!" "Well done!" and so on?

 Because that possibility looms on the horizon, here is an advance warning.

Wednesday, July 18, 2018


I'm thinking of getting Giclee prints done from some of my self-portraits and other paintings to sell at very reasonable prices. Below are some of the self-portraits from a series I digitally painted in 2006. Others are shown on this page:

And here is a video I made in 2007 wth some of those portraits and a sound track of me singing over  Just the Way You Look Tonight.

Me and Vincent. 2006 Digital painting.

Me and Rembrandt. 2006. Digital painting.     

Tuesday, July 17, 2018


Who's going to write the play What Donald and Vladimir Said Privately in Helsinki?

Anybody want to have a go?


A doodle from me to clear the mind and lift the spirit.

Wednesday, July 11, 2018


I really really really want to be part of this protest but with my currently dodgy hip, I could get stuck in a crowd with no way to get back home except via a long walk and all public transport diverted or full up. Looks like I'm just going to be watching it on telly and friends' internet eyewitness reports.


I'm starting to repair a semi-rotten windowsill. The rot is in the wood and has eaten two bloody great holes in both corners. The middle of the sill is not too bad. I've scraped off most of the cracked paint and removed loads of crumbled wood, dust etc. from the holes. I know that the best solution would be to replace the sill entirely but that's not going to happen so I'm doing my usual patch-it-up-and-hope-for-the-best.

I've bought wood-filler and wood hardener but considering the depth of the holes, I'll apply the hardener and when dry, insert some filler, squish in pieces of wood cut to fit approximately then more wood filler in the gaps. Finally sand and repaint.