Category: Journal

This is just a huge thankyou to all the people who helped raise the final amount of £1110.45 for War Child UK. They let me know yesterday the money has been received and express their gratitude to everyone who contributed. Should any of you who helped wish to see their report and thank you letter I will forward it on to you.

Thank you

Dominique

The book to accompany the project on my local landscape is here. Each copy is £15 which includes postage. If you would like one then email me at – dominiquecameron3@gmail.com. It looks fantastic thanks to Gary Doak’s photography and Iain Sarjeant’s design. Thanks to both of them for getting this publication together, it has meant a great deal .

Many of the pieces in the book will be part of a three person exhibition starting on April 9th with Tatha Gallery. You will be able to view the images on their website and buy online if you want any of the work. We are hoping that it might be possible to visit in person before the end of the show which ends the in the first week of May. Fingers crossed…….

Dominique

The damp from last nights rain seeps into my old shoes numbing toes as the wind finds my fingers, stiffening the joints making it difficult to draw. But I am here and that feels fine enough. I sit in one of the iron age hut circles still visible with my back tucked between rocks that make up the surviving boundary wall. Rain spots the paper as a hand not quite my own scootles over the terrain with a crayon, looking, listening to the song of skylarks in the fields below. A bumblebee sits to my side, its wings gently folded against it’s body. Rabbit’s fur caught on a gorse branch smokes in the wind that whips my hair toward a crow and the horses watch on. A dog barks on a farm.

Skylarks and lambs, that’s how it is today, the spring is almost come. At least it settles in the lee of the dyke where stones warm to the notion. Grass bleached, scoured, hungover, stretches and yawns, saying it will get going shortly, in a bit….. promise.

Sitting and looking and drawing. A selfie of sorts perhaps. The tree and me.

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.

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.