To the Sea, To the Sea

It's a dreich February day in North Idaho, and the fog was thick before noon. Lovely to observe, actually, with frost-covered tree branches looming out of the mist like the bowsprits of sailboats. My current residence is very pleasant, with wild turkeys and deer constantly parading the grounds and foraging beneath tall pines (and in my mother's flower beds). Still, there's an intangible something about being near salt water. Being away from it just feels as if there's something lacking! This could be attributed to one's background….who's to say….. All I know is, I'd be packed in an hour if the chance appeared to be seaside for a few days – even in winter!

Walking beaches during wild winter storms on the Pacific Coast was a highlight of my childhood Februarys: the drama of thundering seas pounding against land; storm-tossed 'flotsam and jetsam' being pushed up the beach with torpedo-like speed and force; and the fascinating piles of ocean detritus left on the beach to dig through in search of 'treasures.' I am deeply grateful to my parents for providing me with such opportunities. It is little wonder that Scottish marine subjects make up a large part of my work.

"Stonehaven Solitude" is one of several paintings based on the NE coast's lovely Stonehaven town harbour. I could spend several months harbourside and still find more subjects to paint! The water's beautiful colours under clear conditions, the myriad of 'artistic' boats, the entertaining comings-and-goings of both locals and tourists…..it's the 'bee's knees' for a painter!! This lovely wooden sailboat is a great subject – I wanted to emphasize the snug peace of the harbor in quiet times, thus the rather restful colours, water calm enough to hold cast reflections, and solid, stable, vertical lines of the pier's construction. I wonder where the boat has been, and what interesting trips it will log in the coming year? The imagination kicks in……..

Coffee in the Fog

The ‘dark days of Decembre’ are certainly here in North Idaho. Thick fog today….. reminds me of the Haar creeping silently in from offshore along Scotland’s coastline. No hint of sea sounds or smells up here though, on the hill just above Coeur d’alene proper, just a couple ghostly deer munching on the front lawn, and the parade of big bronze-feathered wild turkeys making their daily tour round of the neighborhood.

A good day for many things; for yours truly a chance to dig into the paints and muck about in the grays of an Aberdonian winter day, study over the details of operating a big Epson printer who has come to take up residence in my studio area, practice fiddle, and partake of a favourite indulgence, a cup of strong, black cafetiere-brewed coffee. Cafetieres are wonderful inventions, simple, lightweight, easy to clean, requiring only hot water & good quality grounds to produce a superior sensory experience (half the joy of good coffee is the smell, you know!). I am amazingly fortunate in visiting a nation of tea drinkers that my friends all include cafetieres ― usually in at least two sizes ― in their kitchen paraphernalia. This particular tool for brewing the perfect cup lives at a must-visit charismatic establishment, John Briggs’ Persian Carpet Shop on Allardice Street in Stonehaven. The sea view out the window was tempting, but the bright colours of the oilcloth table cover and produce won out!

Celtic Music Festival Blues

It’s Folk Festival time in Stonehaven next weekend – I imagine most of the usual charismatic suspects plus a whole lot of new faces will be attending, with wee sessions going on ‘roon’ the toon’ and harbourside…. the eyes water as I think of the fun I’ve had trying to keep up with hard-driving tunes and jam-packed time schedules, so as not to miss a performance or chance to sit in on a ‘crackin’ session!’ Am very thankful for help staying focused on the positive in a wee monthly gig downtown at Art Spirit entertaining Artwalk attendees – a brilliant opportunity for exposure for my work and to share some of my favourite tunes.

Music-oriented as I am, I’ve done a small series of paintings celebrating Celtic music, my long-suffering fiddle being the subject! It’s a Sanctus Serafini copy, ca. 1823 (I know, by rights I should’ve painted a fiddle made by a Scots luthier, but had none handy here in Idaho!) By appearance it’s either been well-loved, or had rather a hard life depending on one’s viewpoint, having undergone some extensive reparations. Plays a fine tune, though, depending on the player(!), & is a treasured companion.

The images are meant to go beyond the music, to invite the viewer into a more intimate aspect of a musician’s experience, the sheer pleasure of the beauty and form of our instruments. Thus, you see the fiddle depicted in multiple perspectives and angles one wouldn’t normally see unless working with the instrument personally. I created the series in a more anal phase of my painting career, trying to get every dot of paint just in the right spot. The dark backgrounds suggest our murky past – for the most part undefined and undiscernable, yet full of everything (all colours combined makes murk!) that makes Celtic culture what it is today. Celtic knotwork, composed of several colours (cultures) and populated with many, many ‘wee blobs’ (people) is placed behind each fiddle image to represent a flexible, yet extremely strong grounding in the music and heritage of the Celtic countries.