Cutting letters into stone...

When Barry and I were considering what sort of art would be possible to do whilst in the Highlands, we thought about the cost and expense of trying to set up and do letterpress; of him bringing all his hammers and anvils up here and storing them, of me leaving paper and ink etc etc and of course, we pondered the weather.

In the end, we looked around us and said, well this is a place of stone.  Nearby is the home of Caithness Flagstones which have been shipped around the world; and every croft and farm in the area is divided up by stone dikes that follow the landscape up and down and have stood the test of time; time and time again.

As we pondered stone we thought about craving stone; and of cutting letters into stone.  So in his inimitable style Barry began researching opportunities to do stone letter cutting in Scotland and by all the good graces of fortune, a week long course was being held in the Highlands, at Cromarty Arts Trust, whilst we were here.  We booked and off we went. Later on, we discovered it is nearly the ONLY stone letter cutting course in Scotland all year - serendipity for sure.

We both learnt heaps. The course was half lettering and half carving; so whilst I got the lettering side of things I had no idea where to begin with carving. For Barry, he felt most comfortable with a chisel in his hand and was unsure about how to create and space letters.  So a good balance really.

It was a great week, and we enjoyed ourselves tremendously.  I was in a small sub group of four - three of whom were stone masons; and I basically provided the entertainment I think.  But I did make gains through the week; and Robbie Schneider our tutor was most patient with my weird and wonderful interpretations of how to hold the tools, how to stand and how to use the tools. We laughed a lot.

Nevertheless here are some photos of my work - in all its less than glory; and finally with bit of a shine...

A pristine stone to begin - with the tools - a dummy to the left and three sizes of chisels to the right. All on a wonderful strong, large leaning easel.

I just could not control the chisel to get a straight line.

And my attempt at cutting a curve, circle, O, was somewhat depressing.

So I decided to try some straight, sans serif letters and I began to feel like I understood a bit about it.

So I tried to do another O...

Tiny chopping marks - you are looking for deep diamonds. Diamonds almost sort of, deep definitely not.

Chopping away a bit more (or hacking??)

Beginning to tidy up by chasing inside the letter.

And after a final tidy.

Some action shots along the way.

I began to think of my stone as my workbook - a record of my errors and improvements - so I kept working away testing and trying things.

And here is how it finished up.

I cannot lay claim to the Q.  I decided if it was a record and I wanted to use it as guide when I got back, that there wasn't a whole lot of point me only being able to refer to poor cutting as a learning tool. So I asked one of my mason mates (Mark, 27 years a mason) to do me a letter of his choice - and he did the Q - how delightful that is. I was thrilled to just watch him work on it and watch how he did things.

I also have one of Robbie's points at the top right as well. The plan is now to turn the stone over and write/cut a finished piece on the other side, so I will try that next time we are in the Highlands - the stones are clearly too heavy to travel to Australia in our luggage!

My work improved. There are still lots of errors and mistakes. I like the word SHINE.

Thursday Thoughts...

“Everyone has their favourite books to be re read and re-read. Such things become talismans and love-tokens, even personality indicators, the truly bookish will mate on the strength of a spine.” 

Jeanette Winterson.

I can't stay away from Ms Winterson when I am pondering books it seems.

In complete agreement with her, I really do think that folk have their favourites which can breed and re-read and utterly enjoyed time and time again.  That there are books we turn to when we are poorly; or need to be sad, or when we need to be cheered up.

The notion of books being personality indicators - I love it!  Rather than do all the psychometric testing simply tell us your favourite books or let us look at you book cases...

I must admit I fear what would emerge from a test like that for me (I am eclectic if nothing else). And what a great final line - I haven't heard of it happening, but am sure that it could!

Old bedhead in a shed...hearts and love and a love-token maybe.

The small fading beauties

Our time in Scotland is racing by it seems. We have done much walking, wandering and working and soon we head off for a week long course.

As we all each day I am captured by the small beauties - the seed pods and the flower heads going to seed. I think I love their muted tones as well as their elegant forms and sense of resilience.

This among all is my favourite. For a southern hemisphere person it is not known, and seems fabulous to me.  Called bog cotton here, it appears in the peat bogs around and not every year, and not always in great numbers, but this year was a good year up our way apparently.  There is patch at the cove at the end of our road and each morning I go to check on it and watch it change.  It was badly pelted with rain for a few days and then the wind so has become somewhat bedraggled; but nonetheless resilient!

If I had time and time again, I would investigate how to make paper from it, but that is not something that will be happening anytime soon. Still each day I visit and enjoy it. It is tiny - the stalks are about 12cm high and the cotton itself about 3cm long.

From here on in I know no names. Again, if I had time and time again I would discover what they are called, but for now I simply admire their beauty and record it. Most of them are small and the photos don't honour them on the bigger screen as best they might.

Silhouetted agains the sky,

 
And then nestled against the stone wall

A thistle with some fluff remaining!

And a bunch of thistles farewelling their fluff

This one feels like a basket to enclose or enfold something

And this tiny one is like a mini pine cone - it is about 2cm tall.

It is a real joy and delight to wander and see such tiny magnificence.

Thursday Thoughts...

“The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire” 

Ferdinand Foch

Some of the most amazing quotes some front the oddest of places.  I found this one on the wall of a Melbourne laneway - spray painted on as reminder to all of us.

I think it evokes brilliantly how good passion is. How when one cares about something, believes in something, is passionate about something, that we become vocal and powerful and unstoppable (almost).

The imagery of a soul on fire, blazing, bright and hot suggests that we're not talking about a soul simmering away; or coming to the boil, or simply embers. When we are so fully engaged and passionate, we are on fire and we are powerful.

Maybe time to once again get on-fire...

Sunset in Maleny a while ago...

Words as we walk...

I do love the Scots' attachment to words and language.  In Edinburgh I love coming across poetry carved into the walls of Parliament House as well into the flagstones in different courts and closes of the capital.  To me, coming across words as I walk is always a joy and a delight.

In Wick we visited the Heritage Centre and it was a great few hours exploring so much. We asked for directions to the wee art gallery and set off along the way.  We had not gone far when I looked down and saw these words carved into the flagstone footpath. Of course, we stopped to read them and photograph them.

Here they are in no particular order, but leaving my favourite to last!

This is a lovely description of it...

During our visit, we couldn't say we have had a spell, but we have certainly had hours where for the first time ever in Scotland we've said we're hot!

When you put it like that, who wouldn't?

I can't even begin to imagine how to pronounce this...

No frost yet.

Definitely some of this!

 And to finish, my favourite new Scots phrase - "off we go then, toddle bonnie"!

And from inside the small but elegant St Fergus Art Gallery, the first real signs of quintessential Autumn we have seen. We have seen the fading of flowers, and the bracken turning from green to yellow to russet brown; but these leaves really said Autumn in a cheerful manner.

Peace and an exhibition

Barry and I spent International Day of Peace here in the Highlands this year. We had hung our weather grams and peace doves at home before we came away; but brought a few pieces with us to hang near the cottage on the day as well.

It was quite breezy!

They hang on the gate to the cottage...

We had been to Thurso on Wednesday to deliver the peace bookmarks to the Library for folk to share.

And the timing was right to view the exhibition at the Art Gallery there.  Called Flow Works, it featured two artists Shaun Fraser and Hannah Imlach.  They were both wonderful but I fell in love with Hannah's detailed analysis of the peat bogs and the exquisite and perfect resolution of her works.

As a lover of process, it thrilled me to see some pages of her notebooks, and then understand where some of the inspiration for the work had emerged from.

The work is based on the Forsinard Flow area - which is nearby us - a special peat bog environment and an area where the peat is studied in minute detail - the things that grow there, the environment and the water quality.

These works are inspired by the grains of pollen preserved in the bog. The sculptures link to the meteorological devices used to measure wind. Their form is that of the birch and hazel trees that grew here long ago. The golden orbs move in the wind...

 Meticulous is the only word for it.

The pollen radiometers are shaped like the crowberry and common heather pollen found preserved in the peat. They measure the amount of sunshine...

I don't know the scientific inspiration for these rain water collectors, but the microscopic visual imagery that inspired them is clear...

Each work is also intended to be activated by the conditions of the bog - filling with rainwater, spinning gin high winds and measuring solar radiation.  Simply astonishing.

Thursday Thoughts...

“L’art fait ressortir les grandes lignes de la nature” (art brings out the great lines of nature). 

Antoine Bourdelle


I am so often in awe of folk who can do a quick sketch. Who with the minimum of line can convey so much.  And I am often intrigued by how a person can create such a sense of the whole; that they somehow know how to put down the lines that give the best sense of the thing.

I would love to be able to express the essence of a thing in a few lines.

It seems to me that good art truly does this - that it can see the most beautiful lines in nature and then magnify them or bring them into focus for our viewing and understanding.

Talk about the great lines of nature... Grantville 2018

Of flowers and fading...

Not  a lot of art is happening whilst we are away - there is however a lot of walking, weeding, digging, whippersnipping, moving of heavy flagstones and general yard work to keep us busy.

We try to walk each morning and afternoon and traipse around the moors and this way and that - down to the beach; along to the cove; up to the common land behind us; along the road, and around the village.

We stop often to photograph the small things, the wee things.

For me it is often flowers, and their seed heads as they fade into autumn.

There are so many different thistles - I love them in their powerful purple.

And I love them almost even more as they fade away...

The heather is taking over the hillsides...

And I have no idea which plant this is but I love its shock pink flowers along tall thin stalks by the side of the road...

And just the tiny wee things fading...

And then blackberries from our own bushes - made into a luscious blackberry and raspberry pie.

And finally peace.  I have finished 10 embossed peace bookmarks and am taking them to Thurso Library tomorrow for them to share around International Day of Peace on Friday 21 September. It's nice to share small thoughts of and for peace around the world. We will hang our own installation on our gate on Friday as well we hope.

Dilapidated beauty

We have been in the Scottish cottage for a week or so now; re-acquainting ourselves with the place (Armadale, Highlands) and renewing our spirits and souls.

We have hassled with technology for a bit, but think we might have won that episode for now.  Hence blogging again!

Across the bay from our cottage is another locality called Ladnegulin; and we visited to have look at a croft house for sale.  Just because...

It was described as derelict in the sales blurb, and that it was, but it was beautiful in its dilapidation.  Certainly I don't want to live there, or attempt to renovate it, but I just ached with the beauty of its windows and their stories.

So many stories told and untold from this place I am sure.

Our cottage is across the other side of Armadale Bay (but not in this photo, it is more to the left).

The curtains...

Attempts to protect...

And a door...

It was interesting how my interest in it as a dwelling dissipated as we spent time there; I was instead caught by the ageing of it, the loss of things, the loss of the people who had lived their lives there; a multiplicity of losses, and yet its dignity was steadfast.

So much beauty in this place; always found in the unexpected corners and hollows, and coves...