Monday, 31 December 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

31 December

This last afternoon of the year turns out to rather grey and mild.  Nevertheless, I enjoy walking and looking at the silhouettes of the trees – their structures appearing both strong and fragile against the winter sky.

I have watched the year come and go – the seasons and the weather; the changing light; the creatures and the birds.  However, it is the trees of which I have become especially appreciative during this time – their life force and their sentinel-like presence in the landscape.  I have found peace and hope amongst them.

Writing these notes has encouraged me to observe and to remember the beautiful and wondrous displays of nature that so frequently go unnoticed.  I can honestly say that my life has been made much richer, simply by looking at and thinking about what is happening in the landscape around me on a daily basis.

And so, on we go...

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Friday, 21 December 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

21 December

“Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful.............”

...which just about sums up the grey afternoon of thick drizzle.  Now, however, the wind is blowing the clouds away and the silvery-white full moon has appeared to light this longest of nights.  It cheers my heart as I walk home along the lane with Millie.  That fire will soon be lit.

Work has finished for the year.  No painting now until after Christmas, although no doubt I shall be scribbling in a sketchbook and pottering about in the studio, tidying and keeping a bit of heat going as the temperatures drop.  As much as I love my work, it will be good to have a rest, although, in truth, painting is never far from my thoughts.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Wednesday, 5 December 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

5 December

It is cosy inside the studio.  Its small interior space is warm and light.  Colour, from the numerous small paintings and postcards on the walls, seems to increase that warmth.  Millie sleeps under a chequered blanket in the armchair, while outside, the thick mist hangs heavily and silently over the fields, cocooning us on a small island of visible land.

The holly tree opposite my door still has berries to feed the mistle thrush and the wood pigeons.  Few birds forage in the cold, wet, open spaces of the garden, but some rustle and hop surreptitiously amidst the shelter of the remaining greenery.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Sunday, 18 November 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

18 November

In the last hour before the sun sets, we take a walk around the footpaths of the old airfield.  It’s a brilliant afternoon, with what little breeze there is, coming from the east.  This makes the air chill, and predictions for the week ahead are for daytime temperatures in low single figures.  When the weather comes from this direction, we bear the brunt.  Autumn has, however, been very mild up until now, so a few frosts would be entirely normal.

The sun slips down below the tops of the trees ahead.  It casts giant shadows over the field as we approach, and appears like a golden lantern playing hide-and-seek, as we walk through the wood.

The gleaming circle sinks further down behind the bare hedges, finally disappearing below the horizon just as we reach home.  The temperature is dropping rapidly now.  In the leafless apple trees of the garden, the bird feeders that were so busy earlier, hang devoid of occupants.

Within forty-five minutes a waxing, gibbous moon hangs in the inky blue sky, peering in at the front windows of the cottage.  Time to put the kettle on and light the fire.

It has been a very busy few months; especially these last weeks.  From now on until Christmas, I will work more steadily, preparing new projects and developing ideas.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Sunday, 21 October 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

21 October

The early morning sun, diffused through the thick mist, makes the trees outside the window look like an image from a sepia photograph.  The thin, mostly empty, branches weave together in an abstract, basket-like structure.

The leaves of the adjacent ash have faded to a pale yellow and I find their narrow, drying blades scattered over the vehicles beneath and gathering in a line below the window-wipers of the van.

In this period of Indian Summer, the winter wheat and spelt have germinated, filling the vast, undulating fields with neat, verdant lines.

We make the most of the warm afternoons, walking the dry footpaths which, as soon as the Autumn rains come, will be inaccessible until next Spring.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Monday, 1 October 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

1 October

The air is keen and the sky pellucid.  A hemisphere of morning moon hangs high up against the intense blue backdrop, whilst directly below it, a crow, flying into the wind, appears stock-still – the white and the black.

On the fields, more crows - noisy flocks on the newly drilled earth.  The soil is so neat now that the roll has been over it, that it looks like the raked gravel of a zen garden.

I pause by the wood to listen and to look.  I feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders and, as I stand, I hear the treetops beginning to move.  The sound grows louder as the gust of wind moves from the far side of the wood to the near.  As it passes over us it releases a shower of tea-coloured leaves, twisting and floating their way down to the grass below.

Autumn is truly in residence now.  The blackberries have gone from the hedgerows and morning frosts are just beginning.  The light is turning golden and the days are starting to close early.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

Tuesday, 11 September 2018

Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

11 September

I’m currently working on a wide, narrow, panoramic landscape painting.  Today, therefore, I am particularly focussed on the shapes of distant trees and the surface of the land.

The morning is warmer than I had anticipated and, by the time that we get near to the Hall, I am beginning to feel very over-dressed.  The small windproof jacket, that I have put on over a t-shirt, is making me steam as the sun shines on my back.  I feel as is my torso is cooking en papillote!

Millie, meanwhile, is rootling in the hedgerow, fascinated by the many scuttling noises therein.  I coax her along the bridle path and pause beneath an oak tree.  That invisible force, the wind, is making its presence known by slowly rocking the heavy boughs back and forth.  The roar of the power passing through the leaves is like the sound of heavy rain or the churning of the sea.  Two black rooks fly above me, repeatedly heading into the rush of air and then pausing, like tethered kites, until they tilt..... and allow themselves to be blown backwards to start again.

I turn to my left and watch the light pass over the compact shapes of distant woods, large solitary trees and undulating hedgerows.  The colours and tones change from moment to moment, as bars of shadow run down the stubble fields and ploughed work.  The hues intensify and dim from second to second - lights on, lights off, lights on, lights off.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson