Why do people climb mountains? Is it because “they’re there?” In Scotland there is a tradition of ‘bagging a Munro’, climbing one of the mountains over 3,000 feet. My idea of climbing and bagging is a bit different….
Why do people climb mountains? Is it because “they’re there?” In Scotland there is a tradition of ‘bagging a Munro’, climbing one of the mountains over 3,000 feet. My idea of climbing and bagging is a bit different….
Bodies of water and their crossing will always fill me with the siren call of adventure. The anticipation of exploration and (self) discovery are strong allures so I headed out to the small island of Lismore on my own kind of pilgrimage.
When creativity is flowing you feel alive and vital. But there are fallow periods in any artist’s life, and that is when you need to nurture yourself and build a scaffolding to support you as you revitalise your artistic practice.
A treasure hunt for sound vibrational art led me to Cyfarthfa Castle Museum and Art Gallery in southern Wales to view the works of Megan (Margaret) Watts Hughes. Her extraordinary pictures were created by singing into paint on a glass plate, revealing what the artist believed was the invisible “voice of God”.
Sometimes it takes radical trust to believe that things will work out OK. After last minute repairs to the van, we are back on the road travelling through the Cotswolds and encountering more of the Roman history of Britain.
It’s so important to document not only your finished work, but also the process of its creation. This means you exhibit your final findings as strong images, yet the process of how you came to make them, your ‘compost’ of ideas and creative process is a valuable part of the work as well and should be valued as such.
Creating sculptural book structures was a challenge I set myself this weekend. I have been influenced by observing the new and proposed housing developments in the city and how to portray the tension between housing and green spaces.
Art is never created in a vacuum. It is always a product of its time, taking its influences from politics, society and the artist’s experiences of life. Art challenges and disrupts, it expands our thinking as I discovered this week at the Tate Modern in London.
Stretching yourself is important in art as it is in life. What is also important is to acknowledge and celebrate each milestone, big or small. Like finishing a project or even touching my nose with my knee!
I have always been drawn to travellers’ tales, both adventure travel tales as well as stories of the Roma people and travellers who were once a common sight camped in the English countryside. Thinking about travelling and finding shelter these past two weeks has led me to experiment with cyanotype prints out in the field with what materials I had to hand.
History wraps itself around you when walking anywhere in England. I’ve just discovered a town with a museum named King John’s Hunting Lodge. Although King John died well before this building was erected, it is a nod to him and the town in Somerset which features plenty of historical references and old buildings.
I have always thought of site specific art as part of an external landscape, something ‘outside’. This changed when I started making art on flattened out cardboard boxes from things I had eaten, drunk or ingested. Adding actual coffee and wine to the mix has yielded surprising results.
Permission to play is a ticket to freedom. Being immersed in nature at Dartington has been about allowing myself to notice what I’m interested in, which in turn has become the focus of experimental and playful art making.
Walking to and from the studio each day, I have found myself counting my steps. When I was creating some drawings, monoprints and mud resist patterns, I realised I was making a map of my daily walks to and from the studio.
Is there still magic in the world? At Wiseman’s Wood on Dartmoor in Devon, the ancient oak trees entwine their branches to whisper their stories. You start to feel the presence of otherworldly beings all around. Strap on your boots and go!
Invoking the spirit of Michelangelo, I tried out stone carving. I find it difficult to create in 3D but was keen to try new things. Starting with no clear plan, I hoped that the stone would to speak to me. It did!
Finding a cosy nook to read in feels like home, especially when it is wet and windy outside. The ghosts of great writers, thinkers and artists once tarried here or walked the 1,200 acre grounds of Dartington Hall estate in South Devon. It’s easy to imagine their benevolent presence as I settle in this year of post graduate study.
Learning new things is exciting. But it can also be really, really challenging. The first days of mastering life on the road in a motorhome have been eventful in the extreme. It’s been a crash course of leaning, with plenty more adventures to come.
How can we use the motions of our body to create marks and can these marks become maps that lead us back into an active arts practice? I contemplate these ideas as I pack my bags (again) to travel to the UK this week. Walking and mapping will help me document my 10 months away.
It’s disappointing to reject artworks you know you have laboured over. Painful as it may be, we have to ‘kill our darlings’, the works that we have spent so long with, they no longer feel fresh. Instead, think of these as pilots, leading the way for the better works to follow.