Acrylic, gold mica flakes, paper, on canvas, 2022, 61 x 61 cm.
From walking at Edenmouth, on Kinshaldy beach, in and out the shallows at low tide.
My eyes rusted and lost/containing seawater/and my hair full of saltmarsh. /I ask for its touch, brimming/its voices and reasons
Acrylic, charcoal, water soluble crayon, linen on canvas, 2022, 61 x 61 cm
part of a series about Kinshaldy beach and the Eden estuary.
I had planned to paint over all of the first layer with its strong lines and paint runs. but stopped as I became aware that the charcoal lines done from my sketchbook notes were actually doing really interesting things with the under layers. As always, the fact that this has a piece of raw linen wrapped edge to edge across it, makes something special happen.
Acrylic, paper, linen, oil pastel, charcoal, soluble graphite on two canvases, diptych. 2022. 80 x 120 cm.
“I’ve torn my scarf into shreds; I’m all wrapped up in a blanket.
I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers.
With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted;
Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss.” (Meera Bai)
This is a painting that was a puzzle for months, until I stuck the large pieces of linen onto it, which freed me up to fit it into this series, give it a subject and a reason to be finished.
Acrylic, paper, charcoal and linen on linen canvas, 2022, 122 x 91.5 cm (48 x 36 inches).
rising on the steep deep wood /in place
falling
birds calling
in and out the tomb-court
A large piece of raw linen has been stuck onto this painting, after plenty of paint had already been applied. It might seem a bit drastic, but it was a game-changer.
Acrylic, paper, charcoal on linen, 2022, 61 x 61 cm.
This painting came after a birthday walk in the Trossachs, amongst birch woods and hilly sitka plantations, above the river Garbh Uisge, meaning Rough Water. Walking through the birches I got my pocket sketch book out and drew madly which made me feel a bit dizzy. Here there is a feeling of looming hills and promontories, and birch trunks and the river full of rocks.
In the Hills refers to the wish of the painter to be up in the wild places, in the heather and the trees, walking and finding themselves.
Acrylic, gouache, water soluble crayon and paper on canvas, 2022, 61 x 61 x 4 cm
Junun is music that is basically Sufi Qawwali from India, with a little help from an Israeli Sufi singer and poet, Shye Ben Tzur, and Jonny Greenwood. On the album is a poem by Meera Bai, a 16th century Hindu mystic poet, a Bhakti saint, and the line “Let’s go to that land, where my beloved shall be found” inspired this painting. The idea is that the beloved is the god Krishna, and the saint wishes to immerse herself as his devotee.
Acrylic and linen on canvas, 2022, 50 x 50 cm.
There is a lot going on under the top layers of paint in this one, a rectangular piece of raw linen over previous layers … and then the top layer itself is quite three-dimensional, thick and thin, skimming over the surface and then stopping in lumps and squiggles. The final brush marks done with a small brush taped to a bamboo cane, to try to let the brush fly over the canvas. Suggesting water surface and light in some sort of homage to Monet’s Nympheas.
Acrylic and linen on panel, 2022, 61 x 61 cm
Many layers and again, Gaelic scratched into the layers, Duilleag-bhaite which means drowned leaf, literally, but is the name for water lily. It’s hard to see this one’s depth in a photo.
Acrylic, pastel and linen on a box canvas, 80 x 70 x 4 cm. 2022.
Not so many layers on this one, as the raw linen does such wonderful things. I left quite a bit of it showing. A light touch compared to so many of my paintings which are deeply layered.
