When I was little…
I had a Dryad Silk Screen Kit for my 11th birthday. I loved it. A mini A4 screen stretched with plain silk ready to stencil, and a teeny squeegee (the tool you use to push the ink through the screen) to go with it. I was filled with an excited anticipation of printing possibilities.
Mr Silver, a neighbour down the road, used to print advertising pennants for a living so had ‘proper’ hinged screens for multi coloured prints, an abundance of professional emulsions and colours and a dedicated oven to bake everything in. I popped round for a chat and a nosey hoping to glean some professional advice. The smell of the freshly baked pigment (a bit new car smell crossed with dads petrol lawn mower in the shed) was something that would become very familiar for the next 20 years or so of my life.
After a bit of guidance and instruction from Mr S, I went back home to the kitchen, cut some paper stencils and printed my first flower onto a pair of white hot pants (it was the late 80’s). First lesson learnt, it’s tricky printing on a pre made garment! Very lumpy and bumpy BUT print I did. The colours were awful, the print was bold and pretty wonky but the hot pants were happy. I was off.
I used this little screen for years, and still have it somewhere or other boxed up for posterity. I loved it so much I made some more, buying my own silk screen silk from a local supplier found in the Yellow Pages, and (badly) securing it to old wooden picture frames. They were ok. Not perfect but alright.
I remember still regularly using it when I started my Art Foundation course a number of years later. By then I’d collected piles of papers and fabrics from junk shops, charity shops and the like, printing mainly on flat things having learn my first lesson.
I remember cutting endless stencils, lots in abandoned acetate sleeves from mums old Lever Arch files as you could wipe these down and reuse them. I used onion skins and beetroot to dye old cotton sheets before printing on them. And made my own printing inks from left over wallpaper paste and food colouring.
None of these prints were amazing or particularly beautiful. But it was a process of trial and error and I learn SO much. Happy accidents inevitably happened as I played about and naively explored, without any constraints or inhibitions (aside from the teeny scale of my screens).
Why, you might ask, am I telling you this? I guess I’m reminiscing about the power of PLAY. It’s this carefree abandon, the ‘not fussed about making a mistake’, the ‘having a go and just seeing what happens’ that I’m highlighting here. Something we rarely let ourselves do as grown ups.
Well, I think we should.
As I harp on all the time, drawing makes me feel better, every day. And I know it helps lots of you too. So let’s play. Make a mark, smooth out a smudge, tear some paper. What’s the worst that can happen? I know for sure you’ll definitely learn something along the way. And you might feel a tingle of that childhood carefree abandon too.
Bliss.
And beyond!
Based in Forest Hill, South East London, I host a variety of workshops from printing to painting, for those seeking some creative time for themselves.
With a focus on exploration and 'play', these are inspirational art classes, with no judgement or pressure whatsoever. Click here for autumn dates:
Online workshops are back VERY soon too.
Happy Sunday!