Cherry Blossom and Winter Fayre Cheer

I try to skip my eye from rosehip to holly berry to the herbs flowering valiantly against the grey. I try to accept the freshness of the wind and focus on the gaps between the rain. But perhaps I should just confess that I don't want the darkness to come. Some years the winter solstice is a cave I can crawl into; it is safety and solitude and snuggling warm with a cold nose. This year the darkening feels exhausting. Each week I am more tired and I fear it is because I need the sun. Maybe I need the sun's masculine strength, but that thought is a heavy one and doesn't help me. Maybe I am lonely inside all my many protective layers. That thought neither. Which is possibly why, in my work, I am creating sunshine :o).

This is Cherry Blossom, completed in time for The Chagford Winter Artisan Fayre, of which I am proud to be a part. It promises to be a day of warmth, levity and bright company - just exactly what I need.

And there is fun to be found even on a cold morning. Forest School is the highlight of our week. Here Emily regales us with a story of the wind and the sun while we glug hot chocolate and scoff snacks.

Later we made hogitats (hedgehog homes, for those not in the know). Pickle (whose Forest School name is Earthworm) and her lovely friend Rabbit made one together and it did look very inviting.

And we finally met Thomas's cousin, Naomi, and her dad, Bob. Pickle was impressed with Naomi's Hawkins-style communicator, but more so with Naomi's pirate boots. It was good to spend time together, although Chagford's windy lanes and unconventional shops narrowed the choice of venues. Here we are in The New Forge, Pickle clutching the bubbles set Naomi had given her.

I am not entirely in denial about the season. I have bought a fibre optic tree (don't tell Pickle - it's a surprise) and have made some of my work into seasonal cards which will be at our splendid Fayre and are also in my Etsy shop.

So, okay, although I have my Eeyore moments, I am actually quite excited about Christmas. I know it's cool to be aloof and moral about the consumerism and the excess, and for good reason, but I love finding things of happiness and knowing they're stashed away for my girl or for the other wonders who people my lucky life. For balance of sorts, I have been talking about the Philippines tornado. I told Pickle people from all over the world are sending money to help. She looked a bit sad and said, 'But I haven't got any money.' Then, much brighter, 'I can send them chocolate money for a present!' I am coming to believe that the thought really does count.

Wave

Here's my second painting, temporarily perching on this pedestal, soaking up the scrutiny.

Wave

Oil on Canvas

16"x16"

As you may be able to tell, I really had fun with this one. I got messy. It was my first attempt with a palette knife and I fell in love. 

In person, this painting is almost sculptural, it's so 3D. I wanted to get all the differences between water moving en masse in a surge, fragmenting into droplets as it falls, and roiling as foam when it meets the navel of the next wave. Delicious.

And I'm still sucked into that bit of blue sky at the end every time. I want to go there!

So, this is a less personal painting than Polar Bear, but there's still something of me in it. 

There's something of FreeDancing in the movement and the way water succumbs to all forces whilst carving through mountains and chiseling shimmers into the sea bed. There's something of me in this heave, poise, fall, tumble, heave...

There's something of me here for you, with open arms.

Sometimes the fall is the best bit.

Polar Bear

So, I've finally got round to  photographing some oil paintings I did a while ago. The work I'm in now is quite different and I'll show you it as it comes together. But to start, to push my head up through the clouds, I'll use each post to show you a new painting for a while, tell you a little about it... and hope it's sunny up there.

Polar Bear
Oil on Canvas
16"x16"

This is my favourite; my love; my all-time protector, mentor; my deepest, fiercest friend. This is Polar Bear. He stands behind me when I need to act with courage. He uses his amazing nose to scent for danger when I feel cautious and need reassurance. He has been known to decapitate a foe with one blow of his mighty paw. Yuk. But wow.

He kind of scares me. I mean, he is unquestionably on my side. Always. No matter what. But it's like that dizzy feeling you get when you look up at a mountain so huge you have to lean back... he's just awesome and I am grateful every day that he is my ally. I have been bigger, braver, stronger, more powerful so many times because I have Polar Bear back-up. Who wouldn't be?

Polar Bear is one of my very first paintings, and one of my favourites. I had learned nothing; all was intuition. I know several artists who treasure their earliest works. Any ideas why this might be? Do we lose something as we hone our skill? Or are we simply nostalgic for that canvas-virgin feeling. Actually, to this day I quake at the knees and tremble with excitement every time. (I am still talking about painting here.)

Polar Bear was in an exhibition of mine a couple of years ago. Although I sold other work, I priced Polar Bear way higher than everything else because I just wasn't sure I was ready to sell him. I'm still not. He would have to go somewhere very special. For now he's in my daughter's nursery. What better bodyguard could a little girl wish for?

Do let me know your thoughts. They're always appreciated. Thanks.