Returning from the Past

I am so intrigued with the tension between these two stones.  You have to be in just the right spot to see it, but I love it.

My first paintings evolved from these 2 stones and this image was one of the first of the Orkney paintings that I did in the mid 1980s. These stones are a constant in my life.

Hello all,

I know that is appears a year has passed since I added to my blog!  Time is an elusive, quick moving thing when it wants to be so and it has choosen that speed for me.  Last June – July was filled with my good friends from NY, Diane and Jerry, coming for a visit, a quick trip to my Danish friend, Birgit, for her son’s wedding, volunteering at the Ness of Brodgar archeological dig site and then a planned 2 week visit to the USA.  However, due to a nagging and what I now accept as a chronic back condition, I arrived in the USA in severe pain.  It was five months before I could return to Stromness following back surgery and a painful recuperation that lingered until nearly the 6 month anniversary of the surgery.  However, I am now pain free and very grateful for that.

Pleased that the stones still stand and the sky is still wide.  We had 2 brilliant weeks of sun and clouds but since mid week, the gray and wet has returned.  It has been somewhat cold, but not like winter.  Days have lengthened and if I pull an all nighter, it just never darkens.

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A Painting Update

This is the tallest and widest painting of a standing stone so far.

Time is moving along even more quickly than the days are growing longer.  Each day is filled with relishing the view from my window and the walk under my feet.  I have always been ahead of myself with the blog writing and the news posted has been past news.  Suddenly, it is a month since I posted a blog and I realize that I have shared little of my painting.  So….this is a blog to put things into perspective.  I am going to insert photos of the work I have done…the smaller or freestanding ones.  Most are on exhibit at the Waterfront Gallery in Stromness for their Spring show.  The largest one may go to Woodwick House for display until it has a better home with the panorama I am in progress with.

Hung from reclaimed wood, "It is Always About the Journey"This one curve of Hoy is rarely back lit. Only when the fog or snow or rain is just behing, can one see the trees along the ridge line.Likefingers, this island reaches out.

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What is the SWRI and Moonlight?

Underneath the snow, the earth is always ready for ploughing!

THIRTY-EIGHT

It is January 22, and the moon is still pretty full.  The moonlight has been bold and bright enough to light the path for a midnight walking of the dog.  It cast bright shadows through closed drapes that beckoned me to leave them open.  And the sea has had the most extreme tides.  I have seen bits of shore and white waves that have been hidden until now.

The grass appears to be turning green.   With the daylight lasting longer, it feels like spring is around the corner, yet I have heard folks say that the winter could still be upon us in March.  But the farmers had said that in December they would go out and turn over the fields.  That meant to me, that the ground would be soft enough, not frozen for months like I am used to knowing in New York.  And now I hear that there is a deep freeze in US.  I remember not too long ago, when a winter came and went and I never had to look out my warm winter jacket.  It was warm the entire winter.  Now it seems I have escaped to a Florida of sorts, for by comparison, my temperatures have been balmy.  They say it is the island way.  The currents surrounded by the sea make things mild.

THIRTY-NINE

Last week I went to two events hosted by the Scottish Women’s Rural Institute. Just looking them up, it seems the idea came from Canada where it was successfully underway for about 20 years before the idea was brought to Scotland.  Its intent was to provide a way for women in isolated areas to come together for the sharing of social and creative activities and that would also preserve some of the local crafts. Seems it got its hold in Scotland around 1917, the same time that the Provincetown Print, or watercolor white-line woodcut came into vogue in Massachusetts.  The Provincetown printmakers did get together in 1915 and women were the majority of the participants. 

A watercolor white-line woodblock print of the Ring of Brodgar

I mention the watercolor white-line woodcut because that is the technique that I have brought to Orkney through the Art Adventures I set up in 2005.  It is also a technique that has interested many folks on Orkney.  The other event I attended involving the SWRI, was a meeting with me and my white-line prints as a topic of interest.  And folks were interested yet again.  They seemed interested in setting up a workshop time in their community center and I am happy to oblige.  Now that I have collected all my supplies, it would be great to put them to some good use!

You might be interested in the Scottish Women’s Rural Institute, so here is the link www.swri.org.uk.

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Paint Flowing

I brought all my paintbrushes in my suitcase. One needs familiar choices when the landscape outside is different. Yes, that is a Shakira CD...remember one of my theme songs is "She Wolf!"

I have started to use all the remaining smaller spaces of the studio to work on smaller pieces. I have to wait nearly a week for the large panels to dry enough to scroll them past to expose the blank canvas.

THIRTY-FIVE

For the past 2 days, I have woken to the sound of wind and rain lashing against the front windows.  The door, when I open it to let Guinness out, needs a great deal of force to be closed against the wind’s strength.  With the sound of harsh rain against the window, I lay back down to rest and think, knowing that Guinness and I would be soaked before we even got feet from the door.

And then, I get up as the sun is pouring through my eastern window and I can’t imagine it is still raining.  I don’t hear it either.  And there it is … a blue sky with spots of clouds and white dotting numerous parts of the sea.  I can see haze against the shoreline of Hoy.  The waves are crashing strongly against its cliff face.

We will have our walk this morning.  We will walk the full circuit.  Today we have the time and the sun and the wind.  I will have eaten my brightly colored fruit, showered, and had my local eggs, and Guinness will have eaten.  Then my body and my dog will be ready for the new metabolism I am setting in motion in all sorts of ways.

When we return, I shall begin to create a cooked lunch and begin to cook on the next panel of my long horizontal land and skyscape in the studio.  I will dance and sing and melt into the paintsticks I use.  It is remarkable that the very material I have chosen to fall in love with for my painting, is made by a son of a colleague.  He is the paint master of R and F Paints in Kingston, New York.  With each stick I take hold of, I know the humanity of its creation.  I attended his wedding and I gifted his first son.  How is it that so often we use things and move about them without any regard for their creation?

THIRTY-SIX

I look ahead to Monday with anticipation.  Instead of attending my regular traditional dancing in Kirkwall, I have started to attend the Stromness dancing on the Tuesday.  On the Monday it was amazing to spend over 2 hours dancing to an accordion and drum surrounded by smiles. Yes, everyone on the dance floor and even those who sit out, have a smile…a genuine smile.  When a dance is announced, there is quick conversation to see who remembers the steps.  Then the leader or instructor walks us through and we are off.

Even when I totally mess up the pattern, gentle hands come out and push me her and there to get me up to snuff.  And there is laughter in how I make my mistakes.  I remember one dance session last spring, it was a large dance night, and I know I was the entertainment for a group of folks sitting out.  Each time it came my turn to be the lead couple, they watched with slight smiles to see if my partner and I would master it.  When I continued to be out of step, the hid their smiles for the boundless laughter my errors gave them!

At the Christmas party, my friend was the leader of the night’s dances and there were party games as well.  When we were passing frankfurter shaped balloons between our legs from one to another until the music stopped, well, my skirt and I were the source of much amusement.  At one point, when that balloon found itself in an all too provocative place between my legs, the drummer came up and took a photo, as I roared with laughter.  And why not?

This is why I go to dancing.  It is simple, sweet, honest, and present.  They are a group of folks, mostly middle aged women, who just enjoy the moment, the sweat, the challenge of it all.  There is laughter in their mistakes. There is something in the connections made as hands go out to continue the rhythm of the dance.  Palms touch. Shoulders are cradled and the waltz begins.  Humans touching humanity. There is joy when it works like magic and the dance is smooth and easy.

Dancing with the dog around the standing stones!

There is no desire to be the best, the better…it all just is…rather like the landscape where it is punctuated by the verticals of the standing stones.  Humanity connects with the earth and there is a harmonious relationship.

THIRTY-SEVEN

There is an affluence in the confluence of people that intermingles with the history and the land.  It is this very interaction that underlies the inspiration of my painting.  I am so lucky to be staying in a late artist’s home.  It is homey and it is arty.  It is just what was needed for the way I am trying to work.

There is the big white wall and to the left, my countertop of paintsticks. The studio boasts the consistent north light and there are not windows looking out to the island of Hoy, that I am painting.

I needed a big, white wall and I have found it here.  There are large flat surfaces as well and I can spread out and paint to my heart’s content.  I could paint more, if I had more accessible surfaces.  But then more can often be just that ..more…instead of inspiration.

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