A watercolour of a daffodil brought in from the rain. I was at my cousins’ and went for a walk with a bright red umbrella on a wet and grey day. I painted it in the cosy kitchen, tea at hand, lovely conversation and laughter in the air, my smaller cousins painting alongside me at the table, and the comforting sound of gentle rain on the windows. The bright yellow a promise of sunshine to come another day.
I am delighted to say that Westside Contemporary, near Corbridge, will be taking five paintings for their summer exhibition, opening in June. This selection of works contains two paintings which are more realistic and painterly in style while the other three are more abstracted, ephemeral, and for which I poured paint on the canvas, seeing where it may flow. All of them are about my exploration of light, space and that intangible line between earth and sky, the horizon.
I picked up a painting from the framers yesterday, one of which that will be going to Westside Contemporary in a few weeks. The framer is across the park from the studio, however due to the size of the canvas, I had to wait for a window of opportunity with little wind, otherwise I risked being blown over! Following a good natter, I was let out the back gate so that my walk was shorter, wandered across a lawn of bellis perennis daisies and reached the studio before my arms gave out. After unwrapping it, I greeted my painting once again now that it is all dressed up with it’s lovely new frame. It seems more grown up now…
I recently went to visit my cousins for Easter weekend. It was lovely: restful, cosy and full of food food, chocolate, great chats and laughs. It was not only a joy to spend time with lovely family, but to walk in the garden and witness how spring is emerging. There is such a wonderful sense of continuity to see particular plants renewed every spring, and their stunning flowers emerge with grace and beauty. The sculptural shape of the fritillary and the whimsical tendrils of the wisteria are like visiting old friends. And the heady scent of the wisteria and drone of the buzzing bees is timeless and peaceful, offering a space in which to dream.
Cleaning, sorting, stretching canvas, planning and rearranging have been the recent tasks in the studio. Along with the joys of finishing a couple of paintings and making progress on others, has been the practical side of studio work. I enjoy getting the tools out, the indulgence of clean rags, the scent of wood and sawdust, the feel of clean canvas, the punctuation of the staple gun, the slop of gesso and the deep sound of a taut canvas ready for paint. I had someone coming to visit the studio this week and see my recent work, so I pulled out wrapped up paintings and prints, some of which I hadn’t looked at for a while. There is now a huge stack of bubble wrap waiting patiently for me to re-wrap the work. I am delighted to say that we had a lovely time catching up, and she is taking five paintings for an upcoming exhibition. It is time to visit the framers, wrap everything up safely, deliver the work, and then dive back into my world of light, colour and atmosphere.
The lovely cherry tree near the studio, with both white and pink blossoms. Two for one!
It was time to spread out all my flower cyanotypes, in preparation for my upcoming exhibition. It is so difficult to choose which ones to frame, as each one is an individual. The gorgeous prussian blue of the cyanotype filled the room, and the images filled me with many lovely memories, both of making the prints and what each flower represented. I enjoyed them for as long as I could, and then I needed to put them away so that I could walk across the room!
I have been drawing my orchids, and rather than post images of the drawing which won’t show very well I thought to post photos instead! I have “rescue orchids”, orchids that are in the reduced section of the grocery store and look like they may not make it. For a couple of pounds, I can buy a half dead orchid, take it home, water it, feed it and let it rest, and sure enough the orchid soon begin to thrive and blossom again. I have had some of my “rescue orchids” for five years, and can’t resist checking out the plant section for a new addition.
My paintings take ages to come together and at last I have two that are no longer unruly adolescents but are starting to grow up. I apply the oil paint in layers, almost like a watercolour, with opaque and transparent glazes and these layers take time to dry.
I love the space between the earth and the clouds, and the glow of light that seems at times more physical than that which frames it.
There is a wall of skies in my studio at the moment. I have been working on a series of paintings based on the sky at dusk, with quiet warm light coming through below the clouds. The inspiration is from a gentle walk alongside a river last autumn, a walk of contemplation, of healing and thinking ahead to the future.
I had gone to the Penny Brohn Cancer Care centre in Bristol in October for a short course on Living Well beyond cancer. It was a wonderful opportunity to connect with a supportive community, to affirm that I was on the right track with my healthy living alongside my medical treatment, and to learn new perspectives to support my healthy and cancer free life. It is now 14 months since my breast cancer diagnosis, and I am feeling very well and happy.
These paintings feel peaceful and meditative, and are about light, horizon, space and many subtle variations of blue. In other ways, they are about being present in a moment of peacefulness, and looking forward with hopes and dreams. I wonder if I can cover the whole wall?
