Guillemot with Egg (floral map)

(Very low resolution for copyright reasons)

Title: “Guillemot with Egg (floral map)
Artist: Michael Autumn
Medium: Hand-drawing with digital gouache
Giclée archival print on fine 100% cotton canvas (matt)
Hahnemühle Art Canvas Smooth 370gsm + Hahnemühle UV protection matt varnish
Size: 36″ (W) x 50.9″ (H), canvas stretcher 38″ (W) x 53″ (H)
Edition: Limited Edition of 101
Authenticity: Hand-signed (front, bottom, far right on white canvas border) with graphite pencil (varnished over with same UV-protective matt varnish as whole) and titled (front, bottom, centre on white canvas border)
Date: 02/2024

Just to give an idea of the size the artwork…

TL;DR

This artwork is an homage to visual perception – it’s about how we detect meaning from the millions of individually coloured photons entering our eyes – and how I, as an artist, can trick you into seeing what I want you to see.

Guillemot with Egg (floral map) is the simple colouring-in (albeit very carefully selected and juxtaposed colours) of a flat line drawing I did previously of this art puzzle design (see photo of that artwork below and this post: Guillemot with Egg (Art Puzzle)).

Guillemot with Egg (Art Puzzle)

I used this technique to regularly check for line breaks (where there shouldn’t be any), and to get a better view of the shapes of the individual pieces I was designing – amid a sprawling mesh of simple black thin lines on a white background. This got me to thinking about the difference between the dumb mechanical process of colouring a shape (of a flood fill) and true animal (human) understanding…


The story behind this artwork is part intentional, part serendipity, and partly the indirect fruits of some non-trivial computer programming I did many, many, moons ago…

I am immensely impressed, and deeply bewildered, by our ability to visually perceive our environment. As you might know, typical adult human beings have about six million cones in our eyes to effectively detect pixels of coloured light (photons) in daylight (rods are used in low-light/dark conditions). Each detected pixel of light is to all intents and purposes completely independent of each other – and the eye’s cones are simple colour detectors of light coming into the eye – not in themselves capable of making any sense of the totality of what the all the other cones are measuring – they simply pass what they individually detect to the brain (via the optic nerve). It takes one of the most impressive and complex machines in the universe – a brain – to interpret these patchworks of colour.

The brain compares all the pixels together, detects edge boundaries, and uses its vast database of previously classified images (and parts thereof) to try to understand the current image. And by understanding the image I mean recognising the individual objects within it. Without the aid of a vast memory and very sophisticated pattern-recognition, reinforcement, and continuous learning – making sense of what we see would be impossible – and we simply wouldn’t survive. Why? Because we wouldn’t be able to find food and water, avoid danger, and move about pursuing our instinctive goals – build and maintain a shelter, avoid various dangers, find a mate, reproduce, etc… That’s not to say that the brain never gets things wrong. In fact, our brain’s insatiable appetite to pattern-match and classify what it “sees” is so strong that it is sometimes fooled into “seeing” things which aren’t there… Anyone ever seen elephant-shaped clouds…?

Since about 2021, I have been exploring the physical and metaphorical world of puzzles – particularly those in Nature: things that are camouflaged, paradoxical, ambiguous, double-entendre, things that are not what they seem. I have been expressing this through the medium of actual visual puzzles – jigsaw puzzles with a twist, and a completely different purpose – the purpose of expressing ideas rather than a challenging pastime. I call them art puzzles.

I start by hand-drawing a full size completely imaginary, but plausible, nature design of a main bird in an appropriate landscape (which takes me a long time – by far the bulk of the total), and then I physically cut out the puzzle (usually in wood). While designing the artwork for these intricate puzzles – with an eye for structurally interlocking pieces (which are often heavily disguised) – I periodically check that the cut lines all work – i.e. that there are no gaps where there shouldn’t be any, and all the pieces cut out cleanly (i.e. not stuck together anywhere).

This checking is important because, while I cut the pieces by hand for the first three years (and could compensate for any imperfections in the drawings), I have an eye on getting them cut by a computer-controlled machine – waterjet, laser, or some other technology – so I have to make the drawings “perfect”. As many of you will know, if you provide instructions to humans, you can get away with some imperfections and inaccuracies because an intelligent human being is likely to still achieve the correct result – compensating for your mistakes and imperfect measurements/instructions – because they can guess at your intentions. But most of you will also know that you can’t get away with anything when a computerised mechanical machine does the work: it will do exactly what it is told – no more, no less – because it has no notion of what it is supposed to do.

Zooming in on a complex detailed drawing and looking for gaps of where lines don’t join where they should – is a very tedious, long-winded, task – and it’s difficult to be certain you’ve properly checked everywhere. So a while back I got the idea of flood-filling the areas to see if there are any leaks. For those of you not familiar with the term, flood-filling is an automated way of filling an area of colour – of any complexity – with a new colour. It is not filling the whole image with colour – that isn’t much use. It fills/puts the new colour everywhere that is the same colour as the original point (pixel) colour – and here is the subtle bit – the colour has to be connected to the original point. To illustrate this, here is a sequence of pictures showing a small detail of my gap-finding process :-

Detail of the drawing with no gaps

Detail of the drawing with a small gap – can you see it…?

Detail of the drawing with red arrow showing a small gap

Detail of the drawing with flood fill going through the gap

Detail of the drawing with flood fill confirming gap fixed

Detail of the drawing with various flood fills showing good gap integrity


So where does the computer programming part come in – that I mentioned in the introduction? Well, many, many, moons ago – when personal computers were just emerging, I started a career which involved creatively using IT to help people with special needs – recreation, communication, education, etc… One of the most rewarding projects I took on was to design an art program that would enable people who could reliably press one, two, or three buttons with any part of their body – to draw and paint on the computer – and print out their colourful creations. (I was an artist long before I got involved in computing, and so this was particularly interesting to me.) My main customer and inspiration for the program at the time was a very talented mouth-artist, called Mary, whom I was very ambitious for. I wanted to provide for every feature she asked for – in addition to those I thought should be there. One day while doing quite a complex design with the program, Mary asked if it was possible to change the colour of part of her picture. It wasn’t at the time, but I set about designing the feature. To my knowledge it hadn’t been done before, and it turned out to be quite challenging (it took me about a month to crack it). These days it’s common in art programs, and is something most people take for granted. But solving the problem from scratch was very satisfying and gave me insights to its many possibilities (including solving any 2D line-drawn maze of any complexity)…

The serendipitous aspect of this artwork lies in when I realised that the various flood fill tests I was doing during the course of designing the original art puzzle – were actually quite appealing in their own right. While I was only using a few simple random colours for my tests, I thought that with a harmoniously selected floral colour pallet and careful colour juxtapositions, I could make a really attractive design… I parked the idea at the time because I was engrossed with my original intention, but I did come back to it this year. It took quite a long time to arrive at the final design, and printing the colours correctly (i.e. as I envisioned and designed them on my computer) was really tricky (as usual!). Printed on the best available printer with the most archival inks. Best UV protection matt varnish.

I really like it, and it’s like nothing I’ve seen before…

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