The Mysterious Traveller

The exhibition 'evening event' has now come and gone, leaving me in a state of utter exhaustion both physically and mentally. But what a success! I was very happy with the turn out of wonderful folk who braved the bad weather to attend, and I even sold some postcards packs! The art work will remain upon the walls of the Little Yoga Space  for the foreseeable future, so hopefully they will generate some more interest amongst the yoga classes and workshops.  There is an upcoming art market at the Selina Secret Garden hostel in Lisbon and the CCC (Curious Creative Club) have decided to take part. I am hoping to stay involved with these events, not just to sell my work as a side hustle (I've always enjoyed that expression hehe) but to meet more artists and possibly collaborate on bigger projects. The CCC have become a very important part of my creative experience/process at the moment. They have been so supportive of my work, especially on the lead up to the exhibition and have

September is coming to a close. The full moon is nigh. And everything has changed.  Anxiety blossoms in a season of letting go. And yet, could this be a time of new beginnings? (for more daily horoscopes, please DM me @mystictommy) Autumn has always been my favourite time of year, however, Lisbon has a vastly differently energy and aesthetic to this season. It is all geographical, of course; the city doesn't have its own agenda. With the warmer climate, Portugal doesn't offer those frosty mornings or the gentle colour transition from golden to red to brown. The air becomes cooler, naturally, and you feel refreshed after a long summer of hugging humidity. The long sleeved chequered shirts come out. Fingerless gloves are trending. Then all of a sudden the leaves are brown and falling to the cobbled streets as winter begins. There are a handful of things I miss about the UK; autumn is definitely one of them. I am beginning a new (and rather confusing) phase in my life where the fe

When I look back on my artwork over the decades (good grief I'm old) sometimes I find it difficult to identify what I was trying to say, or express. Perhaps naivety blinded my true emotions because I would hide behind illustrations of quirky animals and picturesque landscapes, and not addressing what was really going on in my head. But why should art express everything? It is perfectly viable that an illustration can be created without a deeper meaning, other than sheer enjoyment. I admit, there have been pieces that I have painted that truly depict what I am going through, or a longing for something that is just out of reach. Many of my pieces portray a tranquil scene of the ocean, a small cosy cottage and a distant sunset; my romantic idea of retirement perhaps?! Art is a very personal, complex, subjective and sometimes controversial platform for anybody to get involved in. Whether you like it or not, your artwork is getting judged or questioned by everyone including yourself.  T

What's that proverbial phrase that people say? When life gives you lemons... Well fuck those lemons!  Perhaps I'm a little frustrated because I am currently harvesting lemons for a quest on Farmville 2 ' Escape to the Country' and they take so long to grow. I have an order of lemonade to produce and Eagle Eyed Eddie will not suffer another late delivery.  Life is not giving me any metaphorical lemons at the moment. There seems to be a void and an endless limbo between the past and the future. I feel like my career in animation can continue and can, if I push myself a little more, lead me to some wonderful projects and studios. This limbo I speak of is a result, unfortunately, of a few life changes that have been occurring over the past 6-12 months. It has set my mind into a whirlwind of questions that have no answers. But I know I can get through it. Art must be the answer.  So my plan will begin with revisiting my collections of artwork. Quite a simple task, but one th

There was an idea, many years ago, that gave me credence  to manifest all of my emotions and feelings into a storytelling  device without necessarily divulging into the deepest, darkest corners of my mind (as we did in the previous episode). This device was called Electric Elkboy.  You may have already seen this character. Whether he appears as an icon or a profile picture, or maybe a piece of artwork posted on Instagram, I can imagine that you may recognise him. And if not, then welcome to episode 104 of the blog; where you shall be introduced. And even to the untrained eye, you may notice the visual similarities between Electric Elkboy and myself (unless you have never, ever met me!) Because, ladies and gentlemen, Electric Elkboy is my superhero alter ego.  The general idea was to create a character who I could transfer much of my own personality, traits and issues with a purpose to write fictional adventures that also depicted some emotional turmoil that I could never translate in r

When someone mentions a blog, what do you initially think of? Perhaps a self indulgent article written by that up-and-coming journalist you met at College. It could be promotional diary entries from a comedian or poet. Or maybe even an online record of all your updated status' and locations collected by corporate social media platforms. Who bloody knows?  However, the most likely answer to what a blog is will probably be the idle ramblings of a friend or colleague who you lost touch with, but is determined to remain in the zeitgeist of your social media.  This is where I, Thomas (Barrels) Grainger, find myself presently shelved.  In the guise of a graduate seeking work, I have blasphemed the blogging network with tales of my own woes, mingled amongst the pretty pictures and funny videos of an attention seeking individual who needs some level of gratification. My own love of writing could easily be my undoing because I don't want to taint my side-line passion by revealing an ult

It has been ten months since my time concluded on My Grandfather's Demons (Os  Demônios do meu Avô) where the final puppet was rigged and the last tie-down was painfully screwed into the bottom of Rosa's foot. These characters bear the visual aches and tears that the majority of the team felt throughout this production. This is by no means a slight against the film; it is simply the nature of such scale of work. But when you frantically start to use super glue to fix props to a puppets silicone hand, you know that things are looking bleak. For the record, we normally take the time to screw said prop into the 2mm access point in the palm of the hand, but on that particular day I definitely remember thinking fuck this shit (I can this perfectly in Portuguese; it's a frequent saying). The feature film itself has been greatly received across the globe, being part of numerous international animation and film festivals including A nnecy in France and Fantasia in Montreal, Quebec