It was inevitable that the schedule would reach the point where you have to laugh or else you'd cry. Well, I'm not crying yet, but I'm not sure that it's possible to do all the things I've valiantly written on my 'to do' list before the exhibition goes up on Thursday. Well, not if I want to spend some time with my beloved or to sleep, that is.
Today I took the decision to stop painting. It had seemed a good idea to learn to use oil paint along with the Lower Sixth, but they have the luxury of devoting lesson after lesson to filling in their 16 squares, and they only have to wheedle "Mr Openshaw! Sirrrr …." for Charley to saunter across in his laid-back way and impart some vital tidbit of advice. My time is running out and I'll have to learn to paint on my own, later.
When I got into school this morning I retrieved my seven little etching plates from the acid where they'd been languishing for the whole weekend, and at last they showed signs of having something on them that might print. That acid must be very weak! Anyway, I spent most of the day inking up and making print after print, and it was great. Quite meditative, in fact. I was able to think about various aspects of the schedule while I was working, and before I went home at 7.45 made yet another list!
Earlier, my Year 13 double lesson had gone OK. It was nice to see the video stills from Cley church being transformed into evocative black and white imagery by the students.
This weekend is a 'home weekend', so school finished a bit early and a buoyant mood prevailed. I got the long-suffering Fourth Form to turn their poppyheads into maps. I wonder whether they're counting off the days until they can have ordinary lessons again. Things like copying Leonardo drawings.
The single square I've completed of my canvas didn't look as bad as I'd feared on seeing it afresh this morning, but still I didn't quite get around to doing any more painting. It was my own fault for putting it off until halfway through the afternoon, only to discover that it was time to go home as no-one had told me about the early finish. I wonder whether it's really possible to finish it in three more working days? It may be a crazy idea, especially for someone who has never painted before and isn't getting any tuition except for hanging around trying to hear Charley's advice to the Lower Sixth as they work away on their self portraits.
Meanwhile, I remade those seven ruined plates using the new candle wick purchased yesterday afternoon on a special mission (50 minutes drive from the school). Just how crazy can things get?
I discovered today that 1200 parents are expected to descend on the school on the evening of the private view. No, not specially to attend the exhibition … one of the biggest musical events of the year has been scheduled for the same evening. And they all have to pass the gallery on the way to the Sports Hall where the musical event takes place. Charley reckons that if we place a sandwich board strategically, indicating the presence of free wine, we should get a large crowd. Strange days.
Less talk of the dreaded bug today – but I did overhear a student telling a group of friends that it wasn't worth him going into the dining room for lunch as he would just throw it up … hmm, so much for staying away from school for 72 hours after the last of the symptoms has departed.
Trying not to think about the possibility of having picked this thing up, I had a busy morning. My larger etching plate that hadn't really etched properly has now been rescued with the aid of sugar lift and several hours in a tank of acid. Sounds like a recipe for a great pick-me-up in itself!!
Also, I spent some time happily chopping up a photograph of one of the relics into 16 little squares and sticking them to 16 larger cardboard squares. Anything to avoid the scary moment of actually starting to apply paint to the canvas. But after asking Charley's advice on such basic things as what sort of size brush to use, how to darken colours and even which colours to put on my palette (what kind of an artist am I???!) I can report that I have now completed one square, under the watchful eye of the Skeleton.
Aargh! The sickness bug is getting a real grip on the school now. Teachers, cleaners, students, everyone. Environmental Health closed the school down this afternoon, so there was no late evening and no life drawing. I'm feeling fine, myself, but it's the kind of thing that leads you to keep asking yourself whether you're actually starting to feel a little bit ill …
Nonetheless, it was a good day. My Fouth Form lesson first thing this morning went well. I got the students to draw their poppyheads in the form of archaeological diagrams: well, might as well use the resources you have at hand, and I do have an archaeologist as a husband! The students were bemused but soon caught on and did a great job.
The big achievement of the day was getting a metre-square stretcher made by the kind man in Design & Technology, stretching and priming a canvas, and dividing it into 16 squares, numbered in charcoal. Then I attached it to the wall upside down and there I had it – the basic structure that will enable me to have a go at making my first oil painting. I've been watching the Lower Sixth all around me working on their self portraits using exactly this starting point, so I thought I'd jump in and have a go too. Not a self portrait, I hasten to add. It'll be something Festial related, needless to say. Now I just have to decide on an image and cut it into 16 little squares to copy. Easy – maybe!
A hectic morning. I gritted my teeth and cleaned up my eight sticky etching plates. Took over an hour to get them back to the state they were in before I actually started doing anything with them … but we won't dwell on that.
The rest of the time was spent rubbing the plaster relics with semi-skimmed milk. I remembered being told that milk smooths and soften the edges of plaster, making it a bit bone-like. Say no more – I was there. And the technique does work pretty well. Practically all the relics are finished, but I was frantically sloshing milk onto plaster (and onto various other surfaces that weren't intended to receive it) right until the last student had left and Emma was gently rattling the keys to the department.
On a less glamorous note, there is a terrible sickness bug going round the school, and the teachers are going down fast. All the art teachers have succumbed to some degree – poor Charley had to go home during the morning. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, and washing my hands frequently. I haven't got time to be ill now!
