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Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Innerpeffray and a twist in the tale of Sannick Bay...

 Well, we are back in Australia and settling in to things here, and gradually de-fuzzing our heads from jet lag.

We meandered our way back down to Glasgow over a couple of days and left as Storm Babet was beginning its run. We managed to skirt the edges of it most of the way, but there was rain, wind and the rivers ran high.

As we crossed Sutherland in the rain, the soft greys and browns were at their best.



We spent a couple of nights in Crieff, which meant we could re-visit Innerpeffray Library and Chapel which we happened upon so serendipitously last year. Always so special, and I hope to make it a regular visit whenever we are there.

Again, we were fortunate to have Lara, the Keeper of The Books to show us around and talk us through the collection and the displays.

We also spent some time in the school house where some lovely displays had been made - the stories of children at the school, and the books they had borrowed, were on all four walls.




But back in the Library itself, after having seen the magnificent Register last year, dating from 1747, I had wanted to know how many women had borrowed books? Lara said there were quite a few, and that in fact,  on the very first page of the Register there was a woman, called Beatrix who had borrowed a book. Not on behalf of her Master or Mistress, but for herself. And that made me happy.


Her name is the very last on the page, and I think the book she borrowed was something like Following Christ the way, the truth and the life. And she returned it.


Then. 

We mentioned to Lara the words of Pablo Neruda carved into stones on the far north coast of Scotland, and the magic of that discovery. She asked had we visited the Corbenic Poetry Path (we exclaimed, we had! Just yesterday!). And then Barry mentioned the second stone we had discovered way up North. I tried to recall some of the words and said something like - "and put my body back together...". 

Lara immediately said "The Marquis of Montrose"! We said "Yes! Something about On the Eve of My Execution". She went straight to a room next door and brought out a book - The Poetry of the Marquis - and read the whole poem to us.

We shared with her how our Librarian friend Liz had done the research and made sense of the words for us, and were excited to think that we had discovered the words and they were so well known and recalled. But as we stood there, Lara turned to the cabinet I was standing in front of and said "That's his Bible. And those are his seals".

Can you believe it? 

Sure enough - The Innerpeffray Library Collection holds the Marquis of Montrose's Bible and some Seals. How uncanny is that connection? How serendipitous the conversation? How amazing are Libraries and Librarians?

We all had a little shiver as we thought about it.


On the left hand page at the bottom, you can see his name Montrose.


And two seals from letters he had written in 1639 and ?1650. I still shake my head at the thought of it.


On our previous visit it had been pouring rain and we didn't venture out into the gardens and grounds at all, just made mad dashes between buildings. This day was glorious and we wandered along a short path and down to the river.



Along the way, we found this.


So many moments of coincidence and serendipity, we marvelled upon them for quite some time.

We hope to return to Sannick Bay to continue our quest to discover more carved stones; and to Innerpeffray Library where there are always magnificent discoveries to be made as well. What a lovely coming together of special places.

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Some favourites from our trip

 Our time in Scotland this time round has reached its end. As ever it has gifted us so much, so many moments and so much beauty. 

I am thinking I might end up doing a few of these posts as I daresay I will never be able to limit my favourites to a single post!

The scenery is always so very special, the moods and the light and the changing colours, so this is one for the landscape...

The cove in the sunshine. we had so many warm days in the beginning, 27 degrees saw us in t-shirts and wandering the cottage in bare feet - unheard of!


The unusual heat also seemed to make for summer storms - just like in Australia where the build up of heat over the day often breaks in a storm in late afternoon.


Our first month or so the landscape was full of heather. The hills were purplish pink and on a warm afternoon, we stepped out of the car and could simply smell honey. It was divine.


We experienced some fabulous low tides, which created a beach for us at the cove for the first time! They also meant we could wander out and through gaps in the cliffs to other beaches and coves. This sea pool with its stunning green rocks in the sunshine...


Another really warm day (26 degrees) and we headed to one of our favourite places Forsinard in the Flow Country. The home of the blanket bog, which stretches across the north of Scotland, is also seeking approval as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and is utterly magnificent. This time the bog was lower and drier, but I imagine it has filled up in recent days with the weather that has been had!


I love the many and varied fencelines in the north and along the coast. This set are at Forsinard as well, stumbling their way cross the landscape.


The Autumn skies can be sublime in their colouring (when they aren't leaden grey and bearing rain). A glorious sunrise with the fishing net poles.


I also like the grey skies - it is a colour I associate with Scotland - and as the season has turned chillier, so too have the hills lost the purple of the heather and the green of the bracken. The russet of the bracken is now strong and I love these colours together.


We visited a small Clearance village along the Strathnaver called Achanlochy. The weather was atrocious but the wee loch it stood by shimmered in the low light.


And the weekend before we left the winds blew at what we would describe sub-cyclonic levels (about 85-90km/hour). The cove had really large waves crashing over and over again.


Did I mention the weather towards the end? This is looking up the Kyle of Tongue with Ben Loyal dipping in and out of mist and clouds. The tide was out but a channel was still running. I love this muted palette.


So that's the landscape for now. We were fortunate to observe so many changes in the colours and light given the length of our stay this time. Precious. We will carry it with us in our hearts as we go, and look forward to a return. As the locals would say Haste Ye Back.

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Thursday Thoughts...

“Alphabet letters combined – safeguard the fleeting fragments of the day and outwit the loss of memory” 

Isabelle Allende (adapted)

This is such lovely way of thinking about the value of our alphabet and of our ability to combine letters and to make words.

In the most rudimentary way I combine alphabet letters each and every day by writing lists - to help me 'outwit the loss of memory'. If I write it down I have half a chance of remembering. 

I like her use of safeguard - the idea that by writing things down, recording them, we are taking care of events, protecting things such that they can be remembered or known by others; not simply remembered by ourselves.

The fleeting fragments oft the day is just such a lovely turn of phrase for the many moments we live, share and experience in a day. Some are large and impactful, but some are small but beautiful, and fleeting.





Tuesday, October 24, 2023

The Emigrants

The Emigrants is the name of a statue at Helmsdale, on the east coast of the Highlands, created by Gerald Laing and unveiled in 2007. 

It is a statue in bronze, of a family leaving Scotland, setting out for Canada after having been cleared from their home in the Kildonan area.

It is a reminder of the horror of the Highland Clearances, but also a reminder that many families left and created new lives in other countries, and contributed enormously to the growth, development and culture of those places.

But I find it achingly sad.

The father/husband is looking out, bravely facing the future, setting out for anew life full of bold hope. His holds tight to him, following his father on this venture, whilst the mother/wife cradles her baby, looking back. Her head is turned, her foot pointed backwards, as she surveys all that she is leaving. All the support  for her children and all that she knows, as she heads to an unfamiliar land. I think of just how hard that must have been.

We visited it again recently and it moves me still. This photo was taken in the morning when the sun was out, the rest of them were taken the evening before as the grey cloud covered everything and the mist was coming in.


Her face is so thoughtful, so considered. That baby, so tiny.



The sculptor has done such a good job of creating a sense of movement, and of the wind. The wind howls and blows there I can confirm.


This angle I think shows the disconnect between his potential experience and hers...


And I love how the sculptor paid attention to her dress, and made it interesting and lovely. She wasn't dressed in rags, meant to be grateful that she was getting an opportunity to move somewhere else. She was a  woman with good clothes and was leaving all that that meant behind.

 
And that foot. Anchored to her place, her home. Not wanting to leave yet knowing she must.


It is a beautiful and poignant piece and each time we visit I notice something different. This time it was her dress. But each time, I am moved, and feel achingly sad for her and so many women like her, being forced from their homes and leaving so much behind.

Sunday, October 22, 2023

An update - the Stone at Sannick Bay

 Who would have thought that a follow up post about the most recent find at Sannick Bay would need to come with a trigger warning, but I think it should. The words inscribed are quite graphic with some violent imagery, so please take care if you proceed.

At the end of the most recent blog post I welcomed folk to come along the journey with me to try to interpret/translate/transcribe the words.

I had worked out several of them, and was surprised that this stone was engraved in English, which at least made it easier for me to pick out the occasional word.

So, I got an email from my blogging friend Liz Ackert who had done some googling. 

She had put these five words into a search: ashes, hopeful, recollect, confident and just. 

And from this search she arrived at these places:

Lines Written on the Eve of His Execution

Jame Graham, 1st Marquess of Montrose



So here is what I had thought I had found:

8 lines

1. Let
2. (Open) all my
3. 
4. (then place)         upon
5.                    my ashes (throw)
6. Lord since thou knows    here all these (alon)
7. I'm hopeful once             recollect
8. And confident           with          the just

And here is what I think I can now read on the stone:

8 lines

1. Let them bestow on every earth a limb
2. Open all my veins, that I may swim
3. To thee, my Maker, in that crimson lake
4. Then place my par boiled head upon a stake;
5.  Scatter my ashes throw them in the air
6. Lord since thou knows  where all these atoms (alon) are 
7. I'm hopeful once  thou recollects my dust 
8. And confident thou'll raise me with the just      


 So, pretty weird and pretty interesting.

In the end the discovery by Liz of these words has made me now wonder if all of the stones are different - do they each involve a different person's quote? This is clearly not a Pablo Neruda poem as we found on the first visit! The contrast between the two sets of words is intriguing; both I think are about death. One seems beautiful; one macabre.

So the mystery deepens, and the desire to return and discover more increases. That, however, will have to wait for another time as we have started slowly wending our way back to Oz...

With many, many thanks to Liz for her enquiring mind and expert googling!


Thursday, October 19, 2023

Thursday Thoughts...

"We make a living from what we get. We make a life by what we give."

Winston Churchill 

I have always loved this quote and the subtle differentiation between a living and life. For me they are certainly two different things, and as an artist this rings true even more.

It is hard to make a living as artist; but oh my you can make a great life as an artist. We definitely make our lives as artists in the many ways art influences us, the way we spend our time, the places we visit, the things we talk about, the works we make, the things we buy, and the friends that we make.

In particular I like how Churchill suggests a living is made by what we get (earn) and a life by what we give - our contribution, our generosity, our kindness, our care, our concern, our offerings of art.



Let us keep making a life of art and peace.

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

An online course

 One of the tasks I set myself whilst we were in Scotland was to participate in an online course. I am never sure how much art I will get to make; how hard or how easy it will be to do so, so as an insurance policy I set the time aside to do a course with Sally Tyrie through Fibre Arts Take Two called Visual Narratives - Print, Paint, Stitch.

I will be doing this course for much longer than our time here, but it has been so good. I really struggled at first as I couldn't get into the groove, I saw a lot of people on the course diving in and doing amazing things and was feeling somewhat out of my depth, and I realised I was in a remote locality with little or no access to all the materials required and only a dinky little travel printer! But I gradually sorted my head out and worked out how to make it work.

Working within constraints.

The calligraphic layering I played with here was part of the course.

I really enjoy working with the idea of place and chose as my starting point the fishing net drying poles and the fishing sheds in the village.  I have photographed those poles so many times, in so many moods and thought they would offer me somewhere to begin.

One of the main ideas in the course is to not make a direct translation of a place, but rather to try and abstract it, and move away from the obvious, creating a sense of place, hinting at the essence of it, without being able to say - oh look, that's an Armadale fishing net drying pole kind of thing.  

And so I began. I have taken and used sooooooo many photos! And learned a lot of techniques of modifying and editing.


And printing in black and white on fine tissuey papers was a thing. And the printer was not fond of the light paper! Altho as ever, the mistake became interesting, with the judder of the paper the image broke up  a bit.

 
Getting into  the detail.


All in all I have printed and created a lot of papers for use in collages.

Starting small in my journal.


I wanted to try some 'real' work on a small scale - everything I work with here is small - and chose some luggage tags as a starting point. 

I am not great at this collage thing. My brain keeps interfering with itself and I find it hard to let go and just respond to materials. I also find it hard to rip things up or cut them and so I have had to work at that.


I have made two luggage tags - yay me.

One in blues and one in browns.

 
But every time I walked by that brown one that white rectangle was all I could see. So I darkened the spiral knot with a black pen and took up the whole white piece with the concentric circles. Which helped a bit.

But it still stuck out and drew the eye way too much.


And so I covered it with some transparency which had a print on it of sorts, which knocked it back and made it a bit more interesting and less obvious.


It is a truly wonderful course and from my interaction with it thus far, I would highly recommend it (and I expect any of the courses offered by FATT). I have a long way to go, and many many new techniques to try and I expect I could be here for quite some time. Being able to go at your own pace is good, and I have recovered from my fear of not keeping up or being good enough and am pottering and pushing myself which is a good combo.

Sunday, October 15, 2023

A return to Stones from the Sky

 Barry and I  were really keen to return to Sannick Beach and look for further carvings in the rocks. We checked out low tide and headed back one day few weeks ago - luckily the weather was somewhat more clement, and the midges were non-existent! Made for a more enjoyable time of it.

We were probably (actually definitely) over-confident. Having read about there being maybe twenty more carvings, we absolutely felt we would find a heap when we searched the rocks at the other end of the beach. 

We started at the end of the beach and this is the area we were searching.


Keeping in mind they only appear at low tide, we were hugging the edges and clambering across wet rocks precariously.

Looking back, we had reached this far from the cliff and not seen a single one.


My fear was as the tide seemed to be turning quite quickly, that they were out there on the real edge where  I would not venture...


Barry spotted this wet rock and we think can just make out some numbers on it.


But we were really, really almost to the sand when I did that turn around, fuzzy up your eyes and scan, scan, scan. Suddenly this huge rock popped up!



And yes, there were words! And the carving was similar to the first one we found.


One of the gob-smacking things for me was that the carving appeared to have been done upside down, given the way the rock was resting. I can't honestly believe that somebody could have managed that, so we came to the view that the wild and heavy seas had probably moved the rock at some point.


It was almost impossible to photograph it well and I feel as if I only managed fragments.


But you can see that the carving was just as beautiful as before.


To make ourselves feel a bit better after finding one, not twenty more carvings, we went back to see if we could re-discover the first one, and we did!

Chuffed we were. But as you can see, the tide was will on the turn compared to when we saw it first here, and we would have had trouble getting close to photograph it this time around. We are fairly sure it was something to do with our first visit being near a full moon, so the tide was actually at its almost lowest.


We planned to get back a third time, but the tides, time and weather were against us. I had hoped to get some better photos and close ups of the writing on this second large rock to make the transcription better.

But there is always next time, and in between I can keep trying to decipher what this rock says!

So far I have:

8 lines

1. Let
2. (Open) all my
3. 
4. (then place)         upon
5.                    my ashes (throw)
6. Lord since thou knows    here all these (alon)
7. I'm hopeful once             recollect
8. And confident                 with                 the just

Feel free to join me in the quest!