The palette of a chaffinch

 In amongst the various commitments here and there we snaffled Friday afternoon for some arty play. I sat down to see if I could capture the spirit of a chaffinch.

I love these little birds, and nearly always stop as they hop around the window feeding on the seed we scatter. I love their colours and I just think they are so beautiful.

I have discovered that they are perhaps commonplace - they seem to exist across the UK in quite large numbers - but each sighting is still special to me.

So I set about playing with a stylised version of this wee bird. How could I get the individuality and the sense of the chaffinch across, in a small drawing? Drawing realistically is not my strength, and so I set about trying to abstract it in a way.

And then I tried to work out where the different colours might play.

And then I tried to workout my colour palette and how to make it, mix it.

And here is my plate of colour. It is a marvel to me how well nature produces and combines colours in such perfect way - these colour do go together so well.

Across the three - the swatches, the plate and the painting.

And where I go to with this wee one. I will go in again and put some softening washes over the top I think; but I was happy with the patches I drew for the different colours, and the colours themselves are pretty close to where I wanted to be.

And back to other moments of nature and perfect colours... the stormy sky on Saturday morning.

And some lovely news through the week - Hame has been extended by another week! So the show is now on until next Saturday 5 October, and I am thrilled that more folk will get to see it.

I spent some time hand-editing the postcards that are out and about promoting it.

Thursday Thoughts...

“Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader – not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” 

E.L. Doctorow

A good book is definitely one where sensations and emotions are evoked.  I think if the writer is talented, they do manage to make you feel something; rather than simply be told something. They evoke rather than describe perhaps?

One of the best books I have read recently was the Booker Prize winning Prophet Song by Paul Lynch. I felt that this book was the epitome of evocation. With limited punctuation, you felt like you were rushing along. You felt as if you were inside her head - with thoughts about making tea; and getting the kids to hockey practice and the fear of the watchers on the streets. He managed to build a sense of fear and trepidation; of constriction and spiralling out of control so well.

They say a picture can paint a thousand words, and much imagery does evoke sensation. But so does really good writing.

Perhaps the anticipation of that storm arriving...

Week 3 and general loveliness

 I have gotten into the rhythm of collecting the postcards and stitching the book. This time, the book was stitched before lunch on Sunday!

I delivered it back to the Museum at opening on Monday morning and it has joined the other two books as an ongoing record of visitors' thoughts.

They are forming a lovely gathering.

I spoke to lots of folk through the week about this question, and so many of the adults were almost embarrassed to say they would take their phone.  We talked through how it actually holds lots of information as well as lots of photos; enables us to do banking; and may hold our passwords and apps to access so many functions. We all agreed in the end it was OK!

Photographs remained a priority for nearly everyone. There was discussion about how so many of our possessions are just 'things' in the end; but there was a lot of pondering about things of sentimental or familial value - taking jewellery for example that had been handed down thru the generations so that there was something for future generations as well.

So many interesting discussions.

Through the week we had some truly magnificent blue sky days. On one of them we headed to Tongue, to climb to Castle Varrich. The views from the top were astonishing.

I received an Aurora alert late at night on the night of the full moon and thought there was no chance of seeing the Northern Lights. The moon was so bright, and the streetlights in the village were also on. They were slightly stronger out the back where there is little or no ambient light; but here they are shimmering in the corner with a bright full moon AND streetlights! I was amazed that was even possible.

Taken at 2.03am

And last but never least, flowers keep me happy and they get scattered all over the house and as bunches get reduced. single blooms hold their own. A fading cornflower on our new kitchen bench.

Workshops with the Students

 Gosh it has been a real whirlwind of a time, and in amongst it all we ran workshops with two classes of the High School Students.

Working with their teacher, I had asked them to consider the four questions that are being asked at the Museum. So they did some mind maps of those questions and came up with some words.

We worked with luggage tags and made an accordion book with a pouch to hold them. They each had eight luggage tags, and we had heaps of options for paper and writing.

They followed the examples I had like this.

This approach is really similar to one of the pieces in the exhibition The Emigrants; where I had recorded thoughts about what the woman would be trying to achieve in her new home - the things that would help establish home, rather than just the building of a house. By collaging different papers, different images, different things associated with the place and home it felt like we were helping create home.

They did some marvellous creative and inspiring work - here are just a few of them:

They worked so hard and so well! Most folk finished maybe 4 tags, and their teacher is going to keep working with them to complete their artists' books.

We also had the pleasure of talking with them again when they visited the exhibition through the week. 

It is always so energising (and at the same time tiring!) working with young folk making art - their ideas, creativity and imagination; as well as their sense of design, colour and thinking always amaze me.

Their thank you to me was a fabulous luggage tag!

Thank you Mrs Wilkinson and Farr High's S1 & S2 classes.

International Day of Peace

 We have brought some of our peace flags and doves with us to the cottage in Scotland and have hung them on the fence and in the plum tree. The weather will take its toll, but peace persists.

It is such a difficult time all round the world. The small acts kindness, of wishing and hoping and talking about peace are all we can seem to do to influence things. But perhaps small steps act as gentle reminders that so many of us seek peace, and may become a quiet roar...

In the sunshine yesterday.

And in the haar this morning.

And in the window sill in the kitchen...

Some reminders of old peace weather grams and doves back in Maleny - taken just before we left.

Peace. May we seek it. May we treasure it. May we be it.

Thursday Thoughts...

“It is simply this: do not tire, never lose interest, never grow indifferent—lose your invaluable curiosity and you let yourself die. It’s as simple as that.” 

Tove Jansson

This is the sort of advice that one should receive at several points along the way. It should definitely form part of a "Guide for Living" or some such.

Curiosity and interest are two things that keep us alert and active, engaged and alive I feel. The loss of interest in other things, the no longer wondering what if? or how does? or even why? seems to lead to a sort of slow decline in the life force.

The inclusion of indifference is also key I think - when we grow indifferent to suffering, or bad news, or other's feeling or concerns, our own life force and energy also dwindle as a result.

I am glad that of now I am still curious! Still interested! Still intrigued by things and people and places! It helps to keep me alive.

Honesty, 2023

Stitching the book for week 2

 I collected all the cards early on Sunday morning, and the great news was that there were 38 postcards to stitch! I had printed 40 of each question, so to get nearly all of them completed and popped in the box felt great. The other two are probably acting as lovely souvenirs somewhere...

Barry took some slow action shots as I started stitching at the kitchen table.

With so many cards, covers and title pages to stitch I calculated I needed two threads of 4 metres length. I decided that would be more tangled mess than I needed, so I chose to work with two shorter pieces knowing I would have to join the thread along the way.

It is never my favourite task, but I managed a few weaver's knots and the stitching went on.

Once again I really enjoyed reading the responses - some familiar and expected:  family, comfort, love, and warmth;  and some unexpected ones like armchair, the sea, and community. And one person had written what I had been wondering about.

From all my work with domestic abuse and family violence, I know that home is not always a safe place, and I did get one card that said "tension, fear." I hope that folk who feel that way might feel validated if they pick the book up and come across that one. It's not always sunshine and happy families.

I delivered the book back to the Museum on Monday morning; and it is now alongside Week 1's book. 

The postcards for Week 3 are out, ready for folk to join in and this week's questions is: