Thursday, July 27, 2017

Garden delights









Summer in the West of Ireland has been a mixed bag so far - no surprise there. But the sunny balmy days obliterate a sizeable chunk of the memory of rain-drenched days (weeks), and we can pretend we are in the Mediterranean and set up our garden furniture (which amounts to a bistro table and two chairs), drink white wine and eat olives and temporarily move the lemon tree outside. The latter was ill and nearly died, but after receiving the right treatment it is blossoming with the most divine scent.

After visiting gardens in Wexford, including this one and of course my mother-in-law's (she is the gardening expert we turn to, and I must not forget to mention here that she has won prizes for the fruits of her labour), we are sketching ideas of how to turn our lawn into something more abundant. Most seaside gardens our end of the isle tend to be quite bare, with lawns, bushes and rocks, and while it isn't possible to grow as many plants as in the sunny South East, there are a lot of options, even for this tricky, mostly exposed corner. Now to find the time (and the money)...



Wednesday, July 12, 2017

On the easel | Irish landscapes







The first land-(and sea-)scape is a recent commission, which prompted me to paint another one in the same format. I look at the first one, and certain elements and colours make me think of the writer Ali Smith, whose Desert Island Discs I was listening to while working on the painting and whose book How to be Both I read a few weeks ago.

These formed associations can be strong and lasting - the painting or drawing will bring back memories of whatever I was listening to at the time, down to flashes of sentences. That's why I am selective in what I listen to in the studio (no radio apart from Lyric FM) or work in silence.

Which makes me think, my students have no choice - I can only hope that my playlists of 'mellow music for the art classes' (the general consensus seems to be that background music is desired) do not offend anybody's audio/visual synthesising.


Thursday, July 6, 2017

'Such incredible loveliness'








A favourite passage from Frances Spalding's biography of Vanessa Bell (Tauris Parke, London, reprinted 2016, p. 268) and a scene from our holiday at my mother's house - my nephews' hats (1 & 2, no. 1 made by my sister) and my sister's hat (also her own creation) lined up on the piano awaiting the next outing in the sun.