How I became a Surrealist Painter
By my mothers reports, I grew up an imaginative and empathic child. She admitted I sometimes some of the things I said or did as a child gave her chills and goosebumps. Once when I was very young a Romany woman came to the door selling good luck posies, but mother had no money, our household was very poor at the time and we virtually lived on potatoes.
The Romany ‘rag and bone men’ would come by the streets of Luton my home town with horse and cart, calling ‘bring out yer rag ‘n bone!’ or ‘any old iron!’. The profession of rag and bone men has been a part of English Romany tradition for many years. Rag and bone men, also known as "bone-grubbers" or "totters," were people who went door-to-door collecting unwanted items, such as rags, bones or scrap metal, which they would then sell or trade. This was considered a traditional trade among the English Romanies, and many Romany families made their living as rag and bone men. The Romany women would follow selling good luck charms in little posies of herbs and wild flowers.
(detail of;) Red gesso and white egg tempera under painting of anew painting in progress.
The Romany woman was not upset at all, she looked at me, playing on the floor behind my mother for a minuet and then told my mother, ‘that one is going to be an artist’. ‘What her?’ my mother said with light amusement, looking at the small dribbling toddler. Oh yes she said firmly, she will be an artist!. My mother didn’t say anything and dismissed it.
My mother also noticed I had a sort of past-sense at a very young age, as I would stare and run to the window of our very old house and smile and wave to ‘to someone there’ outside. Another time, just after we moved into big old Victorian house my father planned to renovate, I was sitting alone in the large living room, when I saw two small black and white dogs quickly run from the door and disappear behind the sofa. Excitedly I went to tell my mother, ‘there are some dogs in the living room and they went behind the sofa’. ‘Who let dogs in the house?’ she said irritably. We searched the whole room and house together but no dogs. She dismissed it as just my imagination.
Another time, I felt observed and looked up to see just the trail end, of a long pink satin dress drag past the door. A few months later, I was digging around at the bottom of our overgrown garden, when I came upon a pile of small bones and fearing I had come upon a grave, (the priory gardens of church of St. Peter, lay just behind our garden), I showed my mother. They were animal bones. She told me to put them back. In time my mother began to chat to the next door neighbor and mentioned the bones. The neighbor told her the old lady who lived and died our house had kept two Pekingese dogs, which she loved very much and she buried them at the bottom of the garden when they died.
I always had a thing for birds. I loved to watch them and listen to their songs. I wondered what they meant, what they were saying to another. I tried to imagine what kind of intelligence lay behind their little bead-like eyes. I used to try and mimic their sounds and get them to respond to me. One icy winter my mother mentioned, the poor birds were hungry and they were finding it hard to find things to eat. So I saved up all my pocket money and bought a huge box of Trill bird food from the pet store without telling anyone. Where did you get that! she demanded suspiciously. ‘I bought it because the birds don’t have any food, I said. She had thought I spent my pennies on sweets like the other children. ‘Oh Steph’, she said, ‘save your money, if you want to feed the birds, I will get you a bag, anyway the birds do somehow find food and besides that is Budgerigar food.
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Hi!, I am Stephanie Tihanyi, an artist-painter and illustrator. Welcome to my blog. This is where I write about my paintings, influences and art practise.
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