Category Archives: painting

Painting and drawing

Everyone is back where they should be after the Easter holidays and suddenly I find myself on on my own for a couple of days. Although I have things I should be getting on with, I decide to take a break and do some painting and drawing.

So, this is how a near perfect day on my own goes:

  1. Go to the art shop and buy a couple of sheets of lovely 300gsm watercolour paper.
  2. Stop off on the way home at Morston quay and buy a cup of coffee from the National Trust shop.
  3. Drink coffee and take in the view and general hustle and bustle (boats being put in the water for the first time this year, dog walkers, seal boats loading up to take people out to Blakeney Point). Enjoy the sunshine.
  4. Follow the path along the creek and across the marsh with sketchbook and pencil in hand.
  5. Stop every now and again and draw what catches the eye.

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  1. Lunch
  2. Get out painting equipment, put on music (Bach, Brandenburg Concerto’s) and spend the rest of the afternoon painting (keep half an eye on the morning’s drawings but paint mainly from memory).

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Walk 1 – Cley

There is a ‘big’ high tide and I decide to go for a walk at Cley.  Driving past the quay at Wells I see the environment agency people out in full force and so decide to drive down to the quay at Blakeney on the way, just to have a look.

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A strong northerly wind is pushing the water higher than it is supposed to go, and the water is lapping over Blakeney quay. When the wind pushes the tide in like this it becomes obvious why tall, sturdy poles line its edge. The boats strain their moorings as they level with the top of the quay and are pushed up against the restraining posts by the wind and the water; without these poles the boats would be grounded, high and dry, as the water ebbs away.

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I carry on to Cley and driving down the road to the beach I can see enormous waves topping the shingle bank – it is going to be a dramatic sight. The car park just behind the beach is full of water; the sea seems to be seeping through the shingle and filling the lower ground. Out of the car I’m hit by the full force of the wind and quickly realise that a walk along the beach would be potentially dangerous as huge waves are crashing high up the beach, higher than I have ever seen them go before. In places they top the bank and surge down the other side onto the marsh.

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As I stand and watch, other people appear, and also stand mesmerised by the boiling sea. They have cameras and take photos but I have nothing to record the scene with. Instead I just look.

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Spray is blown high into the sky by the wind as the waves peak and then crash down. The sound is deafening: a loud, thundering roar that resonates deep inside you and the rasping, scrape of stones as they are pulled by the back draft. Seagulls are swooping low, flying just above the waves. They seem to be playing dare, as every now and then one flies below a breaking crest into the seething belly of the wave, before rising up again to glide, unconcerned, above the foaming water.

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It’s hard to describe the power and insistence of the sea, but when I get home I do some drawings to try and capture its movement …. I think they are rather too tame!

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Yellow cloth

Things are a bit frantic here at the moment what with exhibitions going up and being stewarded and two deadlines looming for future exhibitions. I am also continuing to make work for my gallery at the Knitting and Stitching show in the autumn ….. sometimes I feel as if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew!

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The good weather we have been having recently has helped my time pressures enormously. I need to paint large pieces of cloth and it is so good to be able to go out into the garden on a warm day and spread out and drip in the open air. Everything dries so much quicker in a gentle warm breeze than in a cold, dark garage which is where I have to do wet stuff in the winter. Only a month ago it was taking 4 or 5 days to dry an equivalent cloth.

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It is so much easier not to have to worry about covering the floor as outside the drips just soak away into the grass.

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The shadows stand out on the vibrant yellow ochre ….

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and as the cloth is a loose weave linen so you can see through it as well.

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These marks were a very serendipitous and timely surprise!

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Of course within half an hour the sun had gone in and it was raining which is good for the garden but it’s back into the garage to paint the next layer today!

 

A week of collecting – final outcome

I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed the Week of Collecting project that I finished last week. It was such an satisfying, yet simple, exercise and one that I will definitely do again in the future.

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The project was rewarding on several levels. Firstly, it was of course good to get out and walk and look and decide what to pick up and take home. It was good practise to write concisely about what I had collected and to hone my thoughts about that particular object. Finally it was very good to draw everyday.

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This was quite nerve-wrecking as I had decided to do my drawings on one continuous piece of paper so that I could bind them into a concertina book at the end. If I went wrong the whole thing would have been ruined and by the end of the week I was beginning to get quite nervous about putting paint to paper. Drawing this way makes you think and observe and consider much more carefully than normal.

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I did  however have one shot at getting the drawing right in the journal that I recorded and documented my findings.

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Both of these hand-bound books will be on display at The Archive Project exhibition at Haslemere Educational Museum in February.

Along with the books I’m also showing a series of small sea-purses and other imagined objects that could well have been found on the strand-line. Here they are photographed on the beach and give a clue as to how they will be displayed in the museum.

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I’ll give you a preview when they are ready ….

Spending time

It is a perfect summer’s afternoon – for me at least – with bright sunshine and a stiff breeze to keep me cool. It’s thin jumper weather rather than t-shirt weather. I walk northwards out along the dyke from Burnham Overy Staithe to Gun Hill with my husband, who as a good packhorse, is carrying a rucksack with a flask of tea, an enormous flapjack from the baker (to share), sketchbook, pencils, brushes and paints.

The wind is coming from the North West so we decide to turn left inland when we get to the end of the dyke to walk the spit of land that is called Gun Hill from the inside. This way we are protected from the wind by the high dunes until we round the end, opposite Scolt Head Island, to go back along the beach when the wind will be behind us.

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The tide is out. It was a big tide this morning so the Staithe and the paths around Gun Hill are puddled and wet. The exposed marsh is covered in a light purple/blue haze as the sea lavender has been out for a few weeks now. It is coming to the end of its flowering and soon the marsh will be predominantly green/brown again. We stop, facing inland across the marsh, and I paint. Looking back towards the village I can see occasional flashes of light from cars going along the coast road as the sun glances off their windscreens. There is virtually no sound apart from the song from several large flocks of small brown birds that rise up from the bushes, corner over the marsh and land further along. This happens over and over again and they make their way slowly across the edge of the marsh. I’m not sure what they are but a look through the binoculars shows that they aren’t sparrows …. They have smooth reddish brown bodies – I’ll look them up later in the bird book.

Another 10 minutes walking and something else catches my eye; a strong black line of mud with a shining flash of water in front. It’s hot sitting here out of the wind, so I do a quick pencil drawing and we’re off again.

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Round the end of Gun Hill we notice that the cordoned off ternary has been dismantled for the year. In the spring, the Natural England wardens who look after this part of the coast, section off parts of the shingle beach with simple stakes and lines to allow the terns to nest and breed. Terns prefer to nest on the ground and they are well camouflaged on the sand/shell/shingle. It would be very easy to walk over a nest and it is best that the birds are allowed to lay their eggs and let the chicks hop around protected from trampling feet.

We sit and have a cup of tea and a bit of flapjack. The wind has shifted. It has come round to the north and is blowing straight onto us. I put on my sweater. To the left over in the small channel that drains into the sea between Scolt Head and Gun Hill, children and adults are sailing little boats up and down. It is a perfect place to learn to sail. At low tide there is just enough water to be useful but also safe. The freshening wind fills the sails and sailing on a fast reach the water creams round their bows and their masts tilt. Hanging onto the mainsheet the sailors have to hike right out to avoid capsizing.

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I sit and write these observations and then paint the beach in front of me while my husband snoozes.

I can’t think of a better way of spending time.

Work in Progress (at last)

I don’t know why, but after weeks of prevarication and confusion I woke up this morning and knew exactly what I needed to do!

I’ve been fiddling around making work that is either too big to be called a sample or too small. I’ve tried things out that have had nothing to do with my core ideas in a desperate attempt to get to the ‘thing’ that annoyingly stayed just out of reach. Nothing has quite worked, although some things have had promise. Obviously it has all been worthwhile and has contributed to this eureka moment. Strangely, I think deep down I already knew what had to be done – it was there in my brain all along, but for some reason at 6 o’clock this morning everything fell into place.

Today I’ve painted 2.5  metres of linen cloth and made 120 wire eyelets. All that remains is to put them together ….

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….  of course it may all go horribly wrong!