something's cooking

well... there's usually some thing (or: more accurately: many things) bubbling away in the background.

but this one is taking a more shape (in the pot), bit by bit. it'll need some more time, but my recent obsession of watching wild life programmes (that previously just yielded an intent and intense yawn) is some indication of it.

it is also a direction onwards from my previous 3 observations on landscape. it'll be after the summer for it to be in full shape (leaving the pot on the boil metaphor).

tonight's fix was this one here (it's part 3 of 5 on youtube, so you can watch the whole episode).

it starts proper at 8:00mins

and don't miss 4:00mins onwards on part 4 ;)

i almost forgot some geographical details: it's here: the okavango delta in botswana.

in stillness

a bit of clarity and reflection on the loch's surface

just a moment long

the few seconds before the rain begins

Taking precedence...

... I was going to entertain you with a bit more on type dynamics, but then this was far more urgent and - frankly - far more entertaining, too... at least for me, perhaps for you?

Another visit to the sea. This may well be the last I sea of the West of Scotland coast for some time, but this morning, after having been far too tired for anything yesterday I decided to go to Troon again. Less than an hour on the train and a long sandy beach.

It was warm(ish) sunny, overcast to sunny and breezy. Well: on the beach it was VERY windy. But great: the sun was out, the tide was out too and so I had a fantastic walk, took lots of photos and thoroughly enjoyed my new music additions.

You wanna watch?

Switch the music on and here's Troon South Beach on a  sunny October Sunday.

 

 

And you know what? Change is here.

My job finishes in a week's time, next year at this time I will hopefully be a Fine Arts student in Berlin. And in the meantime I'll do assorted this and that, here and there - so, the blog will change a bit: I'll be putting more politics and research stuff into this too. No need to separate out all these parts any longer.

It makes breathing so much easier. It also is making my head so much lighter.

Happiness? This, here and now. Grin... Can you see it?

Hear the sea and see the moon

I've been very lucky with the full moon this year so far, if I count the April moon in Chile and various other occasions. Well, on 6 August while in California it was also full moon, and moon rise and sunset coincided again nicely - I've been racking my geography brain over this (and that is the wrong brain for that, I'm sure), but I don't think it's coincidence, is it? That sunset and moon rise coincide??? Anybody with a better astronomy brain than mine?

Na, anyways... the sun sets and the moon rises. Ate films the sea. I film Ate. Ate films more sea. I sketch Ate. Ate still films the sea and finally the moon makes an appearance above the low clouds. Ate now films sea and moon while I'm trying my best to differentiate the pastel sticks. Mildly successful.

Kalifornien Strand Nocturne, no 2
Soft pastel on paper, 35x25cm


Kalifornien Strand Nocturne, no 1
Soft pastel on paper, 35x25cm

But all in all a fantastically beautiful evening, lying in the sand, hearing the sea and watching the moon.

The sea in mist

Sunday morning I finally had caught up on my lack of sleep and woke up early, put on clothes suitable for the 'they see you as soon as you left your bunk bed' caravan site public and went to the sea.

I don't know when sunrise is here currently - Germany seems rather dark in summer, but it wasn't that long after and there wasn't any sun really... only fog. Beautifully, eery seafog. Don't know what the local words for it are. Nobody was up yet, all was quiet and so it was just me, the sea, the fog and a very shy sun playing with the mist.

I took quite a few photos and I think these will go somewhere with another medium.

There's another impression I want to capture, though there are no photos of it, but Ate filmed it - on Monday afternoon on our last swimming outing the day was very overcast, very humid and close as close can be. There was no horizon line between the sea and the sky, it was warm but not many went swimming. The sea was absolutely still and you could swim out far, lie still in the water and observe how water and sky became one.

As we lay in the water, trying not to move, Ate dreamt of an underwater camera and I of a painting kit for while in water.

Saturday's Seashores

... in a shy June sun. Things to find, things to see, things to pick up.

I'm intrigued by detail. Small forms and patterns on the shoreline, in the sand or on stones. And now with my computer increasingly doing what I'd like it to, I can easily tag and organise my many beachfinds from years past. Or indeed from Saturday.

Like this,



or this,



or indeed this.



It doesn't mean I stopped looking for landscapey, or waterscapey vistas. Well... any excuse for a bit of colour really:

Seashore Whiting Bay 1
neo ii in A4 Moleskine

The swan and I

The Swan.

... could be the start of a fantastic short story. But it isnae (at least for today).


It's much more prosaic. Encountered when trying to sketch the grassy, watery, boggy inbetween land that is the bay of Lochranza on the Northern tip of Arran. This was at high tide and the swan was toddling about, munching a bit of grass here, flapping its wings there. Well... until it discovered me and my pastels.

After a standoff (yes, I know... I wouldn't have won) I got saved by a hoard of sheep moving in fast and - probably joyfully oblivious to the mighty swan - made it retreat back to the river bank.

Phew...


Did I say it was about to rain? This is what I did anyway:

Lochranza Bay, 3
Graphite and neo ii in A4 Moleskine


Lochranza Bay, 4
Soft Pastel in A4 Moleskine


Lochranza Bay, 5
Soft Pastel in A4 Moleskine

They were duly hung

... after so few tiny, tiny waves...


Now... drinks anyone? Tomorrow at 6pm?

Now: some newspaper

... no, not to wrap yesterday's cheese, but yesterday's monotype experiments.

Well, for all the time we were there it did not stop raining. Now, RAIN was a bit too strong a word, more a persistent drizzle and the paper put up some brave resistance. The sketching went well, preparing the acrylics with some Lascaux extreme retarder (love the title) worked well too - it remained workable for about 20mins or so, and the copper plates are nice and solid to work as plate.

But, the moment it all came tumbling down, or rather: blowing up in my face was when I tried to pull the print: too much wind blowing in my face, into the sketchbook and the assorted paper mess with which I tried to keep my hands, clothes, bags etc reasonably clean.

Ok: lesson learned: minimise on paper setup in gusty gales; acrylics mixed with retarder also means: it can leave marks on your favourite clothing a lot longer than normal. LOL.

But, these still made all of it worthwhile, don't you think so?

Wet Feet, Monotype on catridge paper
a bit of newspaper and charcoal, too
20x15cm


More Wet Feet, Monotype on catridge paper
a bit of newspaper and charcoal, too
20x15cm

Two cool moody made with dreich and Scottish wind on a March Sunday afternoon monotypes.

It's the corner of the Loch where the river opens up into it, it has some beautiful bares trees standing in water, some rather adventurous waves came rolling in and a firm breeze in your face.

It's a great spot - I'm not sure if H. fully appreciated it, but I did! It's very moody with low clouds over the distant hills; the phtalo blue was a good choice (despite the stains it left everywhere); and the acrylics/medium is good enough to work with - it'll go into my Chile bag; not sure how it will perform under heat, but I will find out.

Here's an earlier sketch with a bit more definition:

No wet feet yet, Graphite on Cartridge paper,
25x25cm

All new beginnings

... are also so exciting.

So, if we stick with my new sketching location, take a look at its possibilities: an undulating river, moored boats in various states of decay, sandy shores, grassy shores, trees with exposed roots, little waves, bigger waves, hills in the distance, mist in the distance, ducks, swans, the air filled with the sound of gulls and the faint smell of the sea.

And, to keep my tree intrigue in motion: look at the birch trees against a winter sky.

I need to go again, rather urgently, I feel. The last two times I was there with other people - the first visit worked well with time for sketching - and me asking for that time; the second one was a bit more difficult: too much movement, someone I didn't know well enough, and some confusions over the purpose of a weekend (mine: doing art and having fun; his: working).

That clearly tells me: Gesa, go on your own next time :) But for tomorrow, the forecast is full of hail, snow and rain... and: the fog I had already once before:

Loch Lomond in fog,
pastel on board, 35x25

All new beginnings....

... are so difficult. Even if it's only one week, the last entry seems so long ago.

I had mentioned that I found a spot for some more frequent water observations: the shores of Loch Lomond at Balloch. I was there 10 days ago and explored the capabilities of my camera. There's some sunshine on the water:

And some video observation of small, friendly waves as they are criss-crossing the boat's path.






That'll be enough for another start, don't you think so?

No boat today

... well: none on Saturday is more correct.

Excited about the prospect of some pleasure boating on Loch Lomond in proper Scottish fog, we found the pier closed. So it was a little walk around the proper park instead. And, as luck may have it: I may have found a spot for regular visits.

It's an old and familiar one, indeed. But I hadn't been for a while. I don't think it'll be frequent, frequent but maybe once a month? That may get me somewhere to chime in with my fellow Watermarkers regular sketching/painting spots. So: for the March installment possibly with less fog, more green? Though I rather liked this weather - but I don't think I convinced the other two.

But, have this for the time being:

No boat today, 29x20cm
Soft Pastel on Arches paper

I've done some, too!!

[look at me! look at me! look at me! she shouts excitedly, jumping up and down]

... Linoprints that is, seeing that they seem terribly de rigeur this January, as both Jeanette and Vivien demonstrate.

Last week I finally got started with assignment 2 of the OCA course: simple lino cuts. I had been a bit uninspired as to that assignment (did I mention that before?); too much like school work, and the very first one consisted of a tedious block full of different marks and textures. Very useful but the thought alone did send me back to sleep.

But, thanks to my easily excited sunny predisposition (on such a dreich mid-January, back to work plod), the block was quickly marked and I could proceed to task 2 and 3.

I've been collecting all these impressions and images in my mind - the night skies, the water reflections and some trees against light skies impressions and they've been waiting for a medium - the pastels and the ink sketches are not graphic enough. But, of course: the stark imagery of traditional relief prints may just get there. With that realisation I quickly developed a couple of the photos of the bull's hollow into simplified sketches*.

Water so still so dark
Linocut on blotting paper
20x15cm

This is the first one: a simple single colour print with different marks - do you recognise the image?

Print Project 2_2 WIP
Linocut on cartridge paper
15x15cm

This is not quite finished but part of task 3 in this assignment. Again, an eery place, sky and water reflection mystery. For anything more definite, you'll need to wait til it's finished though.

*I had to laugh at Jeanette's comments 'think 10 times, cut once' - that definitely doesn't apply to me... cut, then think and then improvise... the same goes for the carefully developed sketches... I struggle to produce 2, 3 even just mildly attentive ones.
And you know what? I absolutely enjoy doing without.

A blue line. Still, so still

Water reflections #2
Soft pastel on board, 35x25cm

A blue line
still so still
clear so clear
water mirror, speak to me
speak to me of the secrets
secrets you keep
so tight so close
in your red water
water so dark
water so still




Reflections. So present. So clear
to touch them to hold them
they drip through my fingers
nothing to hold nothing to have




They stand in line
upright. tall. tight
white.

Look close
bark peels and breaks
a crooked trunk
a broken branch

How kindly though
they all reflect in water

The slightest blur
and all that is crooked
turns to beauty





Colours intersected by water
a surface so still that
it seems to reveal all there is

Look, can you not see?
All that there is
to marvel at

Clear lines long lines
unbroken
until
a breeze lifts
barely to hear
it lets the lake move
it breaks the lines
hides the trees

And nothing remains.




blue brown purple blue sand

And onwards.

So many words for what was, and a short list for what I'd like to do over the next year.

1. Two proposals for exhibitions:
- a group exhibition with the Eldon Group for in a couple of years time
- a small exhibition of the books from my Found Papers Project

2. More art stuff offline
- get a better sense of Glasgow's art scene
- check out Berlin too

3. More larger scale drawing pieces
- life drawing
- more observation pieces to fill some of the gaps of my distant love for the sea

4. Travel and paint
- in Scotland
- in Chile
- in Germany
Most of these will involve coastal locations, so for subject matter, seascapes will hopefully figure more prominently.

As for the last point, Casey introduced me to Astrid Volquardsen's pastel paintings of the German coast and her blog Pastell Bilder. Often small scale pieces they capture beautifully the sea, the breeze and the horizon.

The German coast is a place I haven't been to for years, and for the past few years fantasised rather intensely of going there for a holiday, preferably in autumn. So, when I stumbled across Astrid's evocative paintings, that wish had a clear visual expression.

Astrid Volquardsen, Foehr - Oktoberlicht
Pastel on board, 12x34cm


Astrid Volquardsen, Sylter Brandung 3
Pastel on board, 12x34cm


Astrid Volquardsen, Sanfte Brandung
Pastel on board, 12x34cm

(all images copyright Astrid Volquardsen
click on the images to visit Astrid's website)

These are some of Astrid's paintings but do check out her blog and website too. Curiously, Astrid lives just some 30 miles from my parents' place, what a funny small world this is, some times.

• Astrid Volquardsen's blog: http://pastellbilder.blogspot.com/

• Astrid's website: http://www.pastellbilder.de/

As a reminder, I got myself this for my 2009 calendar:

click on image to see a slideshow of the calendar

Urban Water Exploration #1

I was a tourist here once.
I no longer am.

The city looks different whether you are or you are not.

Want to follow me on a bit of discovery?

Turn on the soundtrack and on we go.



Out of the subway, across the car park to the embankment.

The river glistens in the winter sun.



But the Kelvin is not my destination, not for today.





I walk past some new build development, a dingy underpass
I wonder if this was a railway tunnel or wartime shelter
Or maybe both.



Hm, this is more like it. A bit of watery calm.
Some reflections.

But not quite right.
I am looking for light trunk dark backgrounds.
Onwards,
Past the bridge to the little pond.

It is half frozen, just the tiniest bit of open water around the edges.
Where does the water change its state.








So many trees
So clearly reflected.

Ok... time for the coffee with M.
I back track, go to my favourite coffee place - offshore... how fitting
Order a coffee and [click repeat] hear this song.





Water, the city, reflections, trees... all in an hours walk.

Note to self: need to do this more often.

The bull's hollow in live

Water reflections #1
Soft pastel on board, 35x25cm

On the first morning at my parents' at breakfast,

I to my brother: 'Torben, do you want to come to the bull's hollow with me?'
My mum [alarmed]: 'Oh dear, what do you want to do there?'
Torben: 'Paint it... because it's so spooky' [makes funny noise].

And he guessed without reading my earlier post.

We didn't make it that day.

Morning 2 when I get downstairs for breakfast:
My mum: 'Karsten [my dad] already wanted to go with you to the bull's hollow so that you can paint, but you've slept too long.'

So, that afternoon, all four of us go. My mum rather keen to avoid the hollow [because it's so spooky (makes funny noise)], but in the end, they leave me there and go for a walk and I for a paint.

Here's some prep sketches and one of pastels of the lochan at the bottom of the hollow. It was so still that you couldn't tell what was the reflection and what the birch trees.

Bullenkuhle, study 1
pen, ink and neo ii in Moleskine, 24x21cm

Bullenkuhle, study 3
graphite in Moleskine, 24x21cm

Hm... I hadn't used the water soluble graphite for some time, but I do like it a lot;
and: these are trees I do like, too
(well, at least the birch, the junipers are a bit rough and ready, I admit)
... much more than symbolic ones.

There's a twin post with another pastel across at Watermarks on this... here

Present #1

... well not really a present. But something good nonetheless.

My rejects from the RGI exhibition were parked in some of the postgraduates offices in the department. And when talking about the paintings, we arranged for them to come and look at sketches and the small bits and pieces that are kicking about my flat. It got labelled as Wine and more (mulled) wine at Gesa's, but it effectively was a private viewing.

I surprised myself with how many paintings I can display in my tiny flat - which already is severely lacking in available wall space. When I was preparing, I caught myself thinking just how presumptious the whole thing was, and almost hid the paintings away again (well, it was about wine in the first place, wasn't it?). I think one of the last jobs I would ever contemplate doing is marketing. It's not that I cannot enthuse people about stuff, but to do that in order to SELL stuff? I dunno.

I still laugh at a job interview I had in Glasgow years ago about a job as a fundraiser for a charity. Who knows what made them invite me... possibly some equal opps stuff on foreigners or so, but I completely made myself trip up, fall face flat down in the show... hahaha... that will never work as alternative career.

Now... my visitors last night were enthused alright in any case. So much so that they ignored all the small pieces and went for the proper(ish) stuff. No questions asked. I sold more than £300 worth of original prints, small paintings and an old oil painting between the four of them. How very cool. And I promised them to take them round my friend's place were the Coloured Sand paintings are temporarily deposited.

That's me done: I far exceeded my (unambitious) pre-Christmas sales target. Got a few new fans. And some money to go towards my next holiday. Cool.

My present #2 is on its way also: a present from work in the shape of a new laptop. Not any old laptop but one without a right click. Cannae wait!

PS: the photos are mangled uploads to flickr... I've been searching for Watermarks. I think these qualify and I rather like the recomposition of them

Some sea talk over the weekend

The sea is yellow, 70x50cm Pastel on board

.... across at Watermarks.



While searching through the depths of my comp, I discovered that of course most of my holiday snaps are of the sea. And more importantly: with many ferry crossings. There are some colourful gems among these, one I thought I'd share:

(Oye, guapitita! - We need another ferry crossing! Soon!)

I am off for the weekend... actually already gone. For some research stuff in Bath. Bath was booked up with tourists... and so I am ending up in a cool upmarket(ish) hotel in Bristol: with pool, sauna etc...

And I grin at the thought of a weekend spent in a strange city and in a good hotel. Just the right thing after too much lecture writing and teaching over the past weeks.

Definitely different to some of my first hotel rooms on my own in strange places, with no working shower, only pay porn on telly and on the wrong side of the train station... they made me usually think of exactly this piece of bad German 80s retro:



Have a very good weekend! I know I will...

Watermarks

No more waiting on the sea....

Here's a splash... throw some stones across a still lake, watch some leaves float along a stream, wade in the sea at low tide or get soaked in a rainshower (wait: no, definitely too cold for that in December).

Seascape in Earth, 70x50cm
Soft pastel on board

Water does so many things...

So, we thought we'd do something with our fascination, curiosity and interest in the marks that water makes.

Watermarks is our new joint project, bringing together 9 artists from across the UK, France and North America. Vivien, Lindsay and Katherine have got this idea going and I am very excited about being part of it.

Do you want to see what we are doing? Start here to look, comment, follow etc:

http://watermarks-art.blogspot.com/