Sitting and looking and drawing. A selfie of sorts perhaps. The tree and me.
Cherry tree.
Dog dreams .
A drawing from the Drumcarrow Craig series.
The white horse of Drumcarrow Craig.
A drawing about a place called Drumcarrow Craig in Fife. It is a small hill a short distance from St Andrews, an extinct volcanic plug where the remains of an iron age broch still stand and the outline of at least three hut circles . The hill is scattered with small boulders, exposed slabs of olivine dolerite, with small pools and bog. There are white horses . It is the start of another new project with writer and friend Rebecca Sharp. We will be working together and independently to explore this small landscape- as Rebecca says….’the stories , voices and buried/dreamt things’. This is my reflection, and initial response.
About time.
The decision concerning my next project has loomed large for months now it seems. It has proven complicated given our current circumstances here in the UK with the country in lockdown and my dodgy ankle (Glencoe can wait ), but I now have my next expedition mapped and the planning can start.
I am intending to explore the most easterly and westerly points on the Scottish mainland – they being Peterhead in the east and Ardnamurchan in the west. These two landscapes are so very different enviromentally, culturally and linguistically. Peterhead has one of the largest fishing ports in Europe and over half the residents speak Scots. Over in the west Ardnamurchan is a gaelic spaeking, crofting community of only two thousand. The landscape is wild and remote. Beyond that I don’t know much, so I’m eager to get going with some research whilst we are still in lockdown to see what I might unearth about these two wonderfully distinct landscapes.
I cannnot wait to be travelling and drawing again.
Snow fields.
Snow day.
Lapwings peewitting, crows polka dotting the bare fields. Kids at the strawberry farm out on this snow day. A quad bike pulling a girl in a plastic box, slipping, sliding across the track, giggling, squealing. Two boys wrestling in the deep snow, hurly burly, falling , laughing on this snow day.
Out where the solan geese bide.
