Emotional Walking

 Emotional Walking

‘Walk yourself out of your bad mood. Studies show that even a 10 minute walk immediately boosts brain chemistry to increase happiness.’

Unknown

This was posted on Facebook a few days ago. I don’t know where the quote was from originally, but it rings true. If I have ever wanted to get out of a bad mood, I try not to get into the car as that is just too risky, my attitude may pervade my driving skills and someone could get hurt.

'Chalk Paths' by Eric Ravilious

Instead, I choose to go out and start walking. It doesn’t matter where really, just the act of going out and walking, somewhere, helps. The steady pace helps get things back into perspective; other peoples’ activities and the natural environment distract me from my thoughts. Before I know it, I have walked through that emotion and may be feeling another, but all is OK again.

Chalk paths, pilgrim routes and avenues of trees inspire me.

As a child I was taken out for walks most weekends. The first house that I remember well was in the Medway Towns. We lived on the edge of the huge conurbation that made up, at that time, the Borough of Gillingham. We were able to experience the countryside quite comfortably, from this ‘edge’ position. We could cycle or walk out from our front door, go under the big bridge that fed the traffic up to the M2 and be in the small village of Bredhurst within minutes. Further on we would be at the high ground that overlooked Maidstone and the Kentish Weald. Once we walked on the Pilgrims’ Way here and I was fascinated to be told its story, of the pilgrims travelling along it and imagined how it must have been for them. This, I think was the start of my love affair with paths.

Topographical Exploration

About 15 years later I lived next to an army camp, had married a topographical surveyor and had access to any Ordnance Survey map we needed, to explore the surrounding countryside.

A recent watercolour painting on wood, showing a path. (detail)

The Ridgeway is said to be the oldest road in Europe. I became drawn to it. Other artists have been seduced by it in the past; these include Paul Nash, Eric Ravillious and John Piper.

Black and white photograph by Paul Nash of the head of the White Horse, Dragon Hill in the distance.(c.1937.)

We used to visit it regularly and walk along certain sections of it. It was often very windy and wild, but the sense of history and the views were wonderful. Many ancient landmarks are located along its route, notably the enigmatic chalk White Horse of Uffington, Waylands Smithy, Barbury castle, Avebury and the Sanctuary.

The undulating landscape and Waden hill, by Avebury inspired me.

Other places to visit would be the concrete posts that were built and used as ‘trig points’, which Jim had measured from during survey exercises. These especially were up on the highest ground, often along the Ridgeway path and not too far from a cosy pub. So our walking became focused on these many aspects: mapping and navigating the path, traversing the highest ground, visiting contemporary or ancient landmarks and enjoying the views in between. We discovered many crop circles from this height and would later drive past them and note if the farmer was ‘cashing in’ on this mystery or oblivious to his new harvest of people!

Painting Paths

I think my first large painting was completed about 10 years later at my home in Whitstable. It was titled, ‘Silbury Hill/Initiation Myth’ and bought at my first exhibition in 2005 by an acquaintance. It was based on my memories and experiences of walking on the Ridgeway. There was a path in that early painting; there has been a path and a bird in every painting since. The paths are easy to find, the birds not so. They can often be the path itself. Sometimes it takes a bit of looking to find them.

'Letting Go', an early work showing path and bird as one.

I have just come back from the Turner Contemporary gallery in Margate, the new exhibition is about self-portraiture. I have only ever sketched myself in an art class, it is not a subject I feel drawn to, portraiture and self-portraiture to me are what ‘proper artists’ do. I have always thought that I ‘play’ with the media that I choose and so couldn’t ‘do’ a serious subject such as a portrait.

Detail of 'I Dream', showing clifftop chalk paths.

But in hindsight perhaps my paintings have always depicted me. Paths and birds may symbolise spirit and direction.

There is a great painting in the Turner by Maggi Hambling, loaned by the National Portrait Gallery. I listened to a Radio Four piece (at 1hr 21mins) about this exhibition yesterday and her name came up. She painted her own image, and is portrayed with three hands, as she likes a smoke and a drink, but also loves to paint. I also noticed she had many other objects placed around her on the canvas.

One was a beautiful white flying bird. These objects were meant to be symbolic of what was important to her, apart from her fags and booze! So, I am now left wondering what this bird means to her.

Walking to Forget

We walked the whole length of the Ridgeway many years later, after we had moved from the area and were living back in Kent. We walked this time to both remember and forget. We had suffered a deep loss and wanted to be away from it all, to forget what day it was and just be, together.

Detail of 'I Dream', Ridgeway chalk path in foreground.

Walking the Ridgeway, the oldest road, gave us the strength to recognise all was well with the world. The path had been well trodden before and now we were travelling along its length together. The writer Robert Macfarlane accurately describes this feeling, ‘the paths provide, for those who walk them, communion with the prehistoric. They are spectral places, ghostly with the leathery feet of the ancient past.’

We revisited the haunts from our younger days, enjoyed the views once again, saw a brand new crop circle, camped along the route and felt safe and deeply touched by the whole experience.

Walking the Ridgeway, Uffington White Horse Summer 1999.

I have a photo of myself standing on the chalk eye of the white horse, looking over the Vale of the White Horse. I know that in that moment I was wishing. Thankfully, my wish came true. I wonder now if I walk the paths as a gratitude to the deep connection that I felt then. The connection I recognised was for all the people and places that had come before. So if paths and birds come into my paintings to remind me of spirit and direction, then I thank them for it.

'I Dream'.