In conversation is where I share my thoughts on painting, drawing and my inspiration - country lanes, fields and woods where it is quiet.
I have been taking walks down the lane and into the small wood a lot lately, taking my little sketchbook with me (it fits perfectly, alongside a set of fineliner pens, into the deep pocket of my walking trousers). I find I am noticing more each day. After yesterday's torrential rain the paths were thick with mud and the thing that struck me most today was the vibrant green colour of the spiny horse chestnut burrs contrasted against the rich dark mud into which they had fallen. An abundance of ripening crab apples, taking on a pink blush, in the hedgerows too.
The sound of the woods
I love the sound of the woods. On a walk through the little wood yesterday, I listed some of the sounds in my sketchbook with the intention of exploring ways of depicting them in my art: wind through the trees; creaking; bough knocking against bough; a soft thud as something falls; crows; birds; branches snapping.
Today, on Youtube, I watched a documentary about Iranian artist Ali Banisadr, who's synesthesia, means he sees sounds. During the Iran / Iraq war, at the height of bombing, when he and his family took refuge in the basement, he first made charcoal drawings of the sounds of war. He now lives in New York where music is an integral part of his paintings. It is a fascinating documentary and his paintings are equally so.
As I walk down the lane this morning the hedgerows are bursting with red berries of different kinds. Small yellow-green crab apples have fallen to the ground. I look forward to the hedgerows in winter because you can spy into them as you cannot when they are in full leaf. There are birds nests and badger tracks and all sorts. And you can see through into the fields behind the hedgerows.
In the quiet places
I am inspired by country lanes, hedgerows, fields and woods where it is quiet. I crave quiet where I can hear my own footsteps, and notice my breath and where my mind stills and my consciousness is the sight and sounds of nature, uninterrupted by the jarring cacophony of urban life.