The One with the Birthday Joy

There comes a time in a chronically creative, partially deaf, achingly arthritic, late-diagnosed autistic, teenager-nurturing, chocolate-scoffing, perpetually knackered girl's life, when she quite honestly does not know what she wants to do for her birthday.

Yes, it may have been my 47th on the horizon, and I should, perhaps, have been well seasoned enough to pull out proposals of bottomless brunches or spa shenanigans. But the cold hard facts are:

I'm tired.

I'm skint.

I have teenagers.

You could also add to that list whatever perimenopausal treat I have going on in my mind / body / goddamn psyche on any given day: intrusive thoughts about whether or not I even 'deserve' a birthday; fatigue that would rival a sloth in a sponsored sleepathon; impromptu dizziness (but not the fun kind); the list goes on . . . I mean, how am I supposed to decide what to wear in the morning, let alone how I want to spend the day that marks my 47th day on planet earth?

Luckily, the decision was taken out of my hands. At least, it felt that way. It was during a particularly soul-crushing doom scroll one evening that I saw it . . . sip and paint at the local art gallery.

And this, my friends, is not just any local art gallery. This is a fairly newly established, radically community-minded, outrageously colourful, reassuringly liberal and even slightly cheeky art gallery. I couldn't be happier to have this gallery in my little hometown of Brixham. I joyfully give you: A Kick Up the Arts.

THE place to be

The gallery is run by Mark and Sarah Bell. Mark is a painter - his work is expressive and energetic and captivating. He's a North Eastern soul, like me, and just being in his orbit makes me feel like everything's going to be alright. Sarah shares my love for blue hair, she's got a personality that gut-punches you with nothing but love and the sense of disruption she embodies is equalled only by her absolute goodwill and kindness. She's the brains of the business, as far as I know - at least, she's the one I went to when it suddenly dawned on me that for my 47th birthday I did, indeed, want to sip and paint.

I already knew Mark and Sarah because they actually stock some of my own artwork (unnecessarily large heart shown above). My bold, expressive works have found a cosy home at Kick Up the Arts. So, when I asked them about putting on a private 'sip and paint' for me and my little family, it all felt very easy-breezy and no big thing had to be made of it.

In terms of getting the family on board, I decided I'd just give them absolutely no room for manoeuvre. The conversation went something like, "We're all going to do a painting workshop for my birthday. That is all."

It was pretty effective.

I knew conversations would ensue, as the time came closer, about what they'd have to paint, how long they'd have to paint for, would it be lame / cringe / basic. And all of this was ok - because the only thing I wouldn't move on was that we were all going to be in the same room together. The rest didn't matter much, as long as I - the birthday girl - had a paintbrush in my hand and a glass of wine at my side.

And do you know what, people? Painting did actually occur. This could have been down to many things: Mark's relaxed yet skilful tutoring, the warm and welcoming vibes, the Lidl buffet my mam brought with her or the fact that there was, in fact, no pressure to paint at all. Take away expectation (but still leave the paints on the table) and art kind of just . . . happens.

Our art just happened.

My husband, who I have never, ever seen paint a thing in his life, produced this (gold stars for those of you who know why this is a meaningful symbol for us as a couple):

Gulazer (IYKYK)

My mam, who spent the entire process saying she couldn't do it and it was obviously all wrong, ended up with this (yes, she's a doggie person):

Pointer doggo

My eldest son, Big Lad, who is 99% bass riffs and 1% human managed to produce this:

But is it done or undone?

And the youngest, Little Lad, conjured this masterpiece up out of his actual mind:

Sea fog? Completed it mate

I love that we all went into the gallery with no idea what we'd create and came out of it with thoughts and intentions and imagery manifested onto canvas.

I love that we didn't even really care what that manifestation was and what had been really important had been the atmosphere Mark and Sarah created for us.

I love that Big Lad was allowed to take his guitar and strum to his heart's content.

I love the unwritten rule that no idea is a stupid idea and that all creative efforts were not just welcome, but embraced

I love the space that was made for our Lidl buffet and the slowly sipped wine.

I pretty much loved it all.

Can you feel the love? I think you can.

Oh yeah, and I loved that it was over by 9 and I was in bed with a hot chocolate and a murder mystery by 10.

Happy days.

Happy BIRTHday, in fact.

A brief break for, well, cake

So, if you're within a pebble's throw of lovely Brixham town and fancy doing something different that your soul will thank you for, go and see Mark and Sarah and get booked into something - anything - that they might be putting on. One mere glance at their Facebook page tells me they are all over Easter with banner-painting workshops, they're involved in various community initiatives and the sip and paint opportunities are strong. That's without even mentioning the fact that the gallery is packed full of gorgeous artwork FOR SALE. What's not to love?

Oh, and ok, ok, if you insist. I WILL show you what I painted too. I never meant for it to turn into a self-portrait but, if you're not allowed to be a tad self-obsessed on your birthday, then when are you?

Me and a drowsy rainbow. Just because.

Right, I'm off to see when I can fit in another sip and paint. Because waiting a whole year until the next one just isn't realistic.

Go well, beauts . . .

Abi

xxx

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