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Garden Visitors: Dainty Swallowtail, Papilio anactus above and Orchard Swallowtail, Papilio aegeus, the latter shows the difference between the male pattern on the left and the female on the right.

I am very glad to inform all the faithful readers and followers that I am working to produce high quality prints of my artwork to sell. I would like to thank all the people who have already contacted me asking for details about their favourite artworks, for their patience and awesome support.

I'd love to keep hearing from you, so if you have any enquiry, even just to let me know about your favourite artwork and your country, please don't hesitate to contact me via email, FaceBook, comments following the posts and subscribe to the newsletter, so that I can keep working on putting things together.

Every artwork on this blog can become a print for you to take home.

Watch this space!

MG

The Caterpillar of an Orchard Swallowtail is a noisy chewer, on the early stages the larva resembles a bird dropping, it later changes into a camouflaged green. Who could ever tell that from a bird-dropping-looking tiny creature an amazing butterfly will later develop?

Feather, Beetle and Skull: painting blacks without black

From left: feather of a Tawny Frogmouth, Podargus strigoides; Rhinoceros Beetle, Xylotrupes ulysses; skull of a Pied Butcherbird, Cracticus nigrogularis.

This small painting is a technical exploration on how to reach the darkest darks without using any black-containing pigment - no black, neutral tint, Payne's grey, seppia or indigo. A bit daunting considering that neutrals have always been my favourite and most used colours from the beginning. Yet I can now say that chromatic greys offer a neverending, moody, subtle and beautiful alternative to the black pigments. Colours used: Perylene Maroon, Phthalo Green, Prussian Blue, Burnt Umber, Yellow Ochre, Ultramarine Blue, Titanium (opaque) White for the very last few details on the beetle.

Garden Visitors - the Crested Pigeon

 

Journal #8, page 4, Crested Pigeon, Ocyphaps lophotes

The whole eye appears to be bigger than it really is, thanks to a patch of bare red skin. This gives the bird a cartoon-like look and a range of interesting expressions.

Tertial left wing feather.

Tides

Low Tide, watercolour on paper, 23x36cm, 2012 © Matteo Grilli

A stretch of coastline relatively untouched, hidden and primeval lies where the only audible sounds are those of the sea, the wind, the elements and the birds. Just like this for millennia, with the only exception for human voices, occasional and far. Now it is high tide, the sandy patch, the rocks and the pools of yesterday are now a vortex of currents, foam and huge pounding waves. Like all places between land and sea, change is here continuous and tangible.

The waves are relentless, despite the submerged cliffs they still are living and moving mountains of water which become a shattering white explosion overcoming everything. One after the other. There is something fascinating about waves, their relative slowness, languor and unpredictability, their motion and tenacity: irrepressible and necessary. The grace, beauty and power of the ocean's nature is accomplishing its task. 

I wonder where all yesterday's creatures are, the sea cucumbers, the shells, dead or alive, the plovers, the oystercatchers, the seagulls and the dolphins. All under cover, but then it is their home, they know its ways. Every now and then some seagull flies along the coastline southwards, just like the terns and a pair of oystercatchers. The noise of the waves is deafening and endless, but it induces a feeling of peace and soundness. Watching and listening to the mighty force of the ocean from a fair distance is both reassuring and comforting. For now the inhabitants of the coast will have to find their daily bread somewhere else, or wait for the tide to recede.

Woody Heads - NSW

Here is a selection of shell-related artworks from my shop.

Garden Visitors - the Blue-faced Honeyeater

Journal #8, page 3

The colour of the bare skin around the eyes of the adults is a rich and intense mix of shades of blue, a colour that reminds of all the different shades of the colours of the sea on a bright summer day. Beak and tongue are adapted to eat  nectar, pollen, berries and insects.

Juveniles have different colours, starting from an olive-green brown at an early age, the skin then becomes blue in a matter of weeks.

Entomyzon cyanotis in Australia

Avian Faces - Sulphur-crested Cockatoos

Avian Faces Series available here.

Sulphur-crested Cockatoos are full of personality, it doesn't take long to recognize their cognitive skills (likened to those of a four-year-old child) when they observe with an inquisitive look upon what goes on around the feeder. When relaxed, the crest is at rest, and the feathers around the beak all fluffed up, when excited or alerted, the crest is erected and the head is moved with sudden, jerky movements which shows off the bright yellow, curled feathers.

The crest is actually a means of communication. Cockatoos are certainly renowned for imitating human words and this is due to the fact that they are very social creatures, in the wild they have long lasting relationships and to increase their bond the pair develops a 'common language' based on sounds mimicked from each other. As this is not possible in captivity for a single cocky, well, human words or other sounds are used as surrogates.

Their flight in the bright blue sky and the distant (or not so distant) echo of their screeches are a common and typical sight even around the city suburbs and parks. But perhaps, the most beautiful thing is to see them up close, in the late afternoon light which makes everything appear rather magical, with its golden warmth wrapping everything and underlining every movement brought by the wind that moves the branches and the golden-green leaves of the Jacaranda tree. A white cockatoo arriving in flight and landing gracefully on a branch, pervaded by that light is the most majestic of sights.  

-Cacatua galerita-

Queen of the Backyard

A female Australian Brush-turkey on a backyard's fence.

Stupid, ugly and invasive. These are the most common terms used to refer to this big, ground bird whose secret life has something truly remarkable. The male builds a nest, a mound that can be up to 4 meters across and 2m high, he gathers the material scratching ground litter and other organic matter with his large and powerful feet. Right in the middle of the mound, one or more females lay their eggs and leave them to the care of the father who will cover them with decomposing organic material to keep them warm. Checking the temperature of the nest with his beak, the male will scratch off some litter to cool it down or add some more to keep it warm and will also defend the area with great bravery from predators such as goannas and snakes. 

 

The sex of the young depends on the temperature, just like crocodiles. After hatching, the chick finds his way up to the surface, and leave the nest on its own, completely able to provide for itself with no help from the parents, it is already able to fly and will roost on trees for the night just like the adults. Yes, they are destructive, whether they decide to build a nest or not in someone's backyard, when they scratch the ground for food they can destroy everything, seedlings, small plants, vegetables, and they dig out even sweet potatoes to eat the tuber. But they definitely thrive in many suburban or inhabited areas.

 They showed to be able to adapt to the invasion of humans a couple of hundred years ago and to take the best advantage out of the new situation. For some, they're probably not as beautiful or regal as peacocks, but they certainly reveal a successful story of adaptability towards the change brought by the Europeans. The Australian Brush-turkey - Alectura lathami - .

An amazing insight book about the way Australian birds had to adapt to the harsh Australian environment, to the first human immigrations of the Aborigines and to the latest of the Europeans is Boom and Bust: http://www.csiro.au/Portals/Multimedia/CSIROpod/Book-and-Bust-book.aspx 

Highly recommended.

Garden Visitors - the Noisy Miner

Although this common bird does not have a colourful plumage or a striking beauty, it makes itself noticed by its sounds, high-pitched and harsh whistles which become overwhelming when a whole family is performing together. They are very gregarious birds and almost always seen in flocks, mobbing all other species, they are very determined to chase as far away as possible even the peaceful Crested Pigeons and they chase, mob and fight even the other members of their own species as well.

The Noisy Miner - Manorina melanocephala, is the sentinel of the bush, warning with their loud alarm calls all the members of their flock and other birds about pretty much everything that's going on in the area no matter if it is just a walking person or a snake, in the second case this behaviour could even save their lives. Their way of bathing is rather funny, in fact they fly or jump over the water and plunge noisily into it, flying away soon after plunging splashing water all around, perching nearby and removing excess water with those very fast movement of the wings that all birds do when bathing.

It is probably the most common bird in the Brisbane area and this is due to their aggressiveness which has lead many small species to drastically reduce their populations. Noisy Miners mostly feed on nectar and insects and they benefited from some widespread gardening practices where some plant species are chosen for suburban gardens. They also thrive in cities' suburbs because of their high adaptability regarding feeding, accepting food scraps and leftovers given more or less willingly by humans. All these reasons determined their population to boom in urbanized areas and the decrease of number of smaller species that previously inhabited those territories. 

Silent Encounters - Part 2

Watercolour on paper, 38x25cm, © Matteo Grilli 2012

The young one was restless, begging for food, but the parents were very quiet and still, the female was looking at me through the branches. Male and female have a slightly different colour, males tend to be grayish, females have a reddish or tawny shade on their feathers. Juveniles are something in between with darker  marks especially over the head.

 

Detail

It is surprising to see their agility and nocturnal activity comparing to their sleepy and quiet behaviour during the day. When threatened, they rely on their amazing camouflage, standing still and assuming an elongated posture to resemble a dead branch.
 

Work in progress

Tawny Frogmouths are very elusive an mysterious birds, hiding many secrets about their behaviour and biology. Professor Gisela Kaplan's book Tawny Frogmouth reveals many of this bird's secrets, it is the most comprehensive book about this 'Aussie icon' so far, gathering years of research revealing its very surprising hidden secrets. A truly recommended read.

Tools

At the end of these two paintings 'Silent Encounters' linked by the same story and experience, I was a bit surprised that 95% of the colours used is a mixture of just Burnt Umber and Neutral Tint, making it all appearing rather monochromatic.

Silent Encounters - Part 1

Watercolour on paper, 38x30 cm, life-size

It is difficult to spot Tawny Frogmouths. Walking through the park I noticed three Magpies on the ground, all three looking very inquisitive and curious towards another bird right between them. The bird was facing away from me so I could only see its back side, a big round head and a rounded body nearly invisible because of its amazing camouflage. Strange to see one on the ground in the daylight.

On my desk

Although Tawny Frogmouths - Podargus strigoides - are very similar to owls, they are not, they belong to the order of Caprimulgiformes and to the Frogmouth family, Podargidae. They are very skilled night hunters with big eyes and very soft feathers for a perfectly silent flight. The Magpies eventually lost interest and the bird (a female) then flew after a few minutes on a nearby tree where a nearly fully grown young was looking straight at me. On another branch there was what looked like the remains of an old nest, a flimsy pile of thin twigs,  half of it on the ground. I found some feathers.

Work in progress

When painting feathers there is often a feeling of being more a scientist than an artist, or something in between at least, like observing things through a microscope or a magnifying glass. Their feathers are covered with a layer of what appears to be fur, very very soft and this is the reason for their silent flight, just like owls.

Detail

To be continued next week...