Perspectives

Perspectives

I thought this week I could write about perspectives, how we view something from another place. I was going to walk in a familiar place but come at it from a different direction.

Seasalter beach looking East.

I thought that Seasalter beach would give me the opportunity to walk out towards the sea on the vast expanse of mussel beds and muddy shingle, not skirting the coast but striding out, northwards, towards the Isle of Sheppey.

 

Seasalter Beach heading West.

But, I hadn’t taken account of what the tide was doing. It was fully in and on the turn but going out very slowly due to the ferocious chilly wind blowing in from the heavy grey expanse of sky to our North.

Birds perching out at sea

So the perspective of the walk that I was looking forward to, one of contemplation, with a feeling of possession, looking inland from out on the mussel beds, didn’t happen. I could have checked my tide table, it is an essential tool in the summer months to know when I can easily either swim in the sea or go out on the mud, looking for fossils or clay to make pots etc. But I didn’t, I don’t tend to look at it so much as the weather gets colder, so instead we had went around the coast again, towards Faversham, walking close against the seawall, watching the brown rough waves slop onto the exposed thin strip of beach.

Timber, old, exposed and weathered.

We didn’t see any Brent Geese, I should think they have ventured further up the coast, towards the Thames estuary; they will be more protected there for the coming wintery months ahead.

Weathered detail of timber.

Looking at a familiar place from a different perspective could be seen as a metaphor for life itself. We all have our favourite, tried and tested routes, ways to do something which we are comfortable with and familiar, but it can be liberating to go against the flow and walk in another direction.

 

Seeing the familiar, close up.

This is what creativity thrives on, as seeing the familiar from another place can spark a curiosity that feeds and nurtures an open creative mind. 

Light

 As we approach the shortest day of the year, the 21^st of December, I am reminded how much I love sunlight, especially this precious low glow of sun that can be enjoyed now.

Brilliant dazzling sunlight on a clear December day.

A couple of weekends ago I went to a day long event held in a friend’s studio. We had lunch outside and basked in the sun, which now holds just a little warmth.

 

Sunlit exterior space.

But it is the sunlight itself that we all enjoyed, the brightness, the way it made the colours of the remaining summer flowers deeply glow.

Beautiful Geranium flower, glowing in the sun.

That is how I feel in this precious sun, I feel I glow, it illuminates me, it lifts my soul and I feel good. As the day progressed it quickly became more evident in the studio that the daylight was waning and we appreciated the low glow of the candles which were lit.

The candles glowed more brightly as the day became darker.

Every year I try to spend at least one evening around this time, just in candlelight. I think it will be romantic, festive and allow me to go to bed early! But every year, I realise that the reality is that I still need those dark hours illuminated by electric light to do all the chores that need doing such as cooking, clearing up, homework etc.

 

'Bunny Ears' capturing the setting sun on their soft surfaces.

Our lives are regulated not by the natural timely element of daylight hours but by the invention of clocks, electric light and routine. We tend to have a daily routine that overrides the seasonal changes taking place. We must be the only animal on the planet that actively works against seasonal changes that are happening. The Brent Geese that I had seen at Seasalter and on Whitstable beach earlier in the season had known it was time to fly 2500 miles from Siberia to our warmer shores. My bantams will not start laying eggs until the daylight hours become longer again and the leaves will not start to grow on the trees until the sap rises in the spring.

 

Brilliant Spring Green foliage on the beach shingle, above the tide line.

Yet we carry on regardless. No wonder we feel exhausted.

Seasonal Experience

Walking and being outside as much as possible throughout the year does give me a healthy awareness of the changing of the seasons. I think we need this to understand where we are in the yearly cycle. As the days grow shorter I have really tried this year to take things a bit easier, to not push myself so much, to enjoy the moment, to just be. I see winter as a time for introspection, a time to contemplate the past year and reflect on its gifts.

Precious flowers.

I heard a wonderful quote last week which took the (self-induced) stress out of this season, which has already been taken over by the spirit of mass consumption. Black Friday, Cyber Monday etc, all these ‘shopping’ opportunities named and marketed at a fragile, recession hit population makes this quote even more relevant.

‘At this time of year it is your presence that is needed, not your presents.’

As I have to leave writing now to go and see my youngest son in a school production, this seems even more important. I have decided to spend my precious time before the children break up from school, meeting up and being with a lot of my favourite people as well as being outside and enjoying the season. Yes, there will be presents, but there will also be a lot of presence. 

View from inland, looking towards Seasalter Beach, a different perspective.

 

 (I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

Autumn

 Autumn

I am going to start this blog with a quote from a friend, Alison Lees, who, as a fellow artist is incredibly sensitive to her surroundings and aware of the changes that the seasons bring.

‘Yesterday as I was outside, I noticed a particular movement in the trees. We looked up and stared and it was very clear, right then and there that Autumn walked in! Amazing and beautiful.’

Autumn always brings with it mixed feelings for me. I am disappointed by the darker shorter days and the general chilliness in the air, but I am enthralled by the beautiful display of colour in the foliage of both the trees and plants.

Early morning autumn sunlight on the wibbly-wobbly walls.

Autumn sunlight is low and sharp. It glows. This morning it shone on the side of our wibbly-wobbly straw bale garden studio and it highlighted the texture of the wall, the brushstrokes of the lime-wash and the beauty of the plum tree in its shadow form.

 

Shadow plum tree on cob rendered walls.

I find this time of year is a good time to focus on the detail, the wonder of it all, as we go into a slower mode of being.

 

Detail.

Autumn slows me down. It feels like there is less time to want to fit ‘it’ all in. I look forward to the darker evenings so that I can get cosy in the house and not expect so much of myself.

Pace

Autumn is my slow down signal. I always used to try and ‘keep the pace’ up at this time, but now I tend to recognise that I need to slow down. If I don’t, I start getting the inevitable cold and cough and then things quickly start to go pear shape. That is one of the great things about walking, it is all about pace. Walking pace is, as a human, our natural speed to observe and understand our surroundings.

Last week I collected my first sweet chestnuts of the season, these were found by remembering where I saw the trees last year, walking up to and around them and looking down into the recent leaf litter and spying the bright green spiky balls. This can't be done virtually, digitally or any other way than to be present. I had to go there myself and seek them out.

One of Jo Barkers harvest mandalas, not chestnuts, but beautiful.

In making this decision to go and harvest these seasons’ gifts I was allowing myself the time and the commitment to be there, to pace myself to the season, to walk, look, recognise and gather. It could be seen as a bit trivial, but I believe the more we engage with the land around us in a seasonal way the more we begin to appreciate our connection with it and nature itself. In this time of gathering in the harvest in preparation for the colder darker days ahead it is only honest to recognise that we too are animals and will need to change our behaviour in tune with the seasons.

Process

It is with interest that I type this word and only just now, realise that that it has two meanings. I was going to write about the process of preparing a body of new work for the imminent Artists Open Studio event that starts next week. But as I wrote the word, I read it as process, as in to ‘walk in procession’. Both are about movement, the first one is a movement of thought that takes ideas through a series of changes to become something else. The ‘walk in procession’, speaks for itself, it is movement.

 

Above are two paintings reflecting the spirit of that place. Top- Canterbury Catherdral, Bottom- St. Margarets' Bay.

The project that I am working on is about how people connect to place through walking. This will involve them encountering exterior space as they walk. Trained as a spatial designer, I know the influence of how an interior space can influence the mood of someone either walking into/through it or spending some time in the space.

Detail of 'Cathedral secrets'. Playful movement.

Just imagine if we all became re-tuned in to our outside environments.

We may be able to recognise the ‘tricks’ of the trade; use of colour, finish, proportion etc that retail designers, for example use on us. We gradually lose this ability to see, the more familiar and safe we feel in that environment. Major supermarket chains use these tricks to allow us to choose our ‘favorite’ store and therefore feel safe enough to spend our money there, on a regular basis. If we were able to learn to recognise, at a walking pace, all that nature, the land and the changing seasons had to offer, we could become much richer without spending a penny!

Playing

The process that I have found to be the most successful with creating a new body of work is very playful. I have looked to my older original paintings to inspire me.

 

'I Dream', original painting.

I have always painted freely. I have never come to the canvas with a preconceived idea of what to paint, I wouldn't know what to choose for a start! I like the meditative quality of painting; the choosing of the colours, the paintbrush size, the way I mix paints together, the flow. So, in looking to my existing paintings for inspiration I came across a series of ‘motifs’ that frequently occur in my work. These are trees, birds and paths.

 

Working with motifs.

So I set out to simplify the originals by tracing over them, creating a basic line drawing from the positive and negative spaces on the canvas.I have written about this way of looking before, 'the space between'.

 

Looking at positive and negative space.

These I reduced down and then used carbon paper to transfer onto another material to colour in. The whole process has been like a form of Chinese whispers. The end result has been a joy to colour in with no overarching angst, just a playful experiment. The pace of the work has suited the season. It has transformed an older image into something simpler, quite new and fresh.

Working from my original designs.

I have started a Facebook page with a pseudonym, why? well why not? It is playful and fun. It can be found here.

Poetry

As the evenings get darker I find that I start to look for good poetry pieces to snuggle up with, as I get cosy. They can be beautiful to look at too, as the next photo shows.

 

These are Native American Lyrics; poetical verse.

I suppose that the words could be seen as processing across the page. Now that’s a thought…

I wanted to leave you with one other, a quote by Yeats but I cant find the correct words, it goes something like this ; to read a good poem in January is equal to a summers walk in June.

But in researching the correct words I came across these instead;

‘We live in a fast-paced society. Walking slows us down.’ Robert Sweetgall 

That will do, point made. I am off now for a walk.

(I completed my MA in September 2013 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)