It took me about half an hour to set up my pop up blue tent and all my painting equipment. We were told to not bring disposable items such as water bottles or throw away sandwich packaging. Unpacking I realized that I’d forgotten something, because I’d made my sandwich the day before in a lidded tub and being so focused on my art equipment I’d forgotten to add the filling to my sandwich, so it was a dry bread bun for me – well van Gogh’s favorite go to meal was bread, coffee, (absinth and cigarettes) so maybe it would be part of the ‘being a real artist’ lifestyle for the day. My 9 year old daughter had stayed home with my mother, but my husband and 22 year old son had come along to enjoy the day and help carry my equipment. I’d packed a lot of stuff, previously setting it all up in the garden and packing it away in different ways to save space. Adding and taking away items, attaching carrying handles and covering the logos on my tent and clothing. (advertising is not allowed so no logos can be seen). I’d also taken bamboo sticks and some tent fabric to make a canopy over the chairs because if my husband sat with me he would need to be in the shade with his heart condition, I couldn’t afford to buy myself a new canopy umbrella and besides this way was lighter.

They announced we could begin painting, the weather was roasting. I had my sketch book full of my landscape notes and sketches from cramming in as much knowledge as possible. My hands suddenly started shaking, the public and camera crew were wandering around and I froze. I sneaked into my pop up tent and took a diazepam (I have mental health issues so I’d brought them just incase). From then on I was back to normal, well perhaps a bit more floaty, but chilled and no more shaking. Painting mode kicked in and all I saw was the paint brush stroking over the surface and enjoying that child like playfulness of allowing anything to happen. I don’t know the correct art speak for my style of painting but basically I sensibly concentrate at the beginning then a mischievous streak kicks in and I just play with the patterns forming and let my subconscious take over, reeling it back with areas of normality towards the end. 

One of the film crew came over to me mid way through the day and asked if Stephen Mangan could come and interview me. I was very surprised because I’d seen him wandering around chatting and filming other wildcards but he hadn’t approached my little blue tent where I was shyly enclosed from the busyness of the day. I was delighted when he came over. Such a friendly, gently spoken and funny chap. He automatically made me feel at ease, although in my head I kept telling myself “don’t waffle on Sophie, keep your answers short, don’t boar the chap to death with your nonsense”. Perhaps I was a bit too quiet because at times there were long pauses where I was frantically trying to think of something to say but telling myself to shut up as soon as a sentence entered my head. Shyness and lack of confidence make socializing very difficult, with the added fear that this clip may been seen on the television. Stephen said I’d brought a lot of stuff, but I decided not to mention the reason for my tent was my weak bladder and being able to zip it up and use a “she wee” if needed. Someone threw some empty bottles in the bin behind while he was talking to me, so I joked about the bottles being from the back of my tent, but then panicked incase he didn’t understand my humor, and I tried to over explain myself. (The joys of having autism with understanding, as well as telling jokes!). He asked about my empty sandwich and I pronounced Van Gogh incorrectly – verbal dyslexia strikes again – I did mention to Stephen afterwards about how Van Gogh also liked absinth and smoking but I didn’t want to mention that on television. Stephen complemented my painting progress so far, and even said to me “perhaps you are an artist we should be looking out for in the future Sophie” which made me melt with embarrassment, but very kind of him. Then came my chance to talk about the medium I was using, which I hoped would get other artists taking their watercolour paintings to new adventures, but nerves fluffed it up and a rushed half sentence came out grabbing at a texture block. I can’t remember how I described it but it wasn’t as well as I’d hoped to. You see I use a type of texture paste (watercolour ground) because it adds the umph similar to oil painting, with raised peaks and patterns pressed into it. You can paint watercolours with a pallet knife or press in stamps of textures. I thanked him for speaking to me and he went back towards the pods. The the film crew did a few close up shots of my sketch book, texture stamp and me pressing in some paste. Bit strange pretending to pass my sketch book over to Stephen when he had gone, but I guess that’s how they edit the close ups.