Wednesday, 10 January 2018

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

10 January

The grey lid is still on the world.  The fine mist clings coldly to my face and finds its way through the weave of my gloves.

As we pass the now abandoned sheep fields, Millie and I put up a flock of fieldfares that have been scouring it’s curved surface.  I count approximately 25 as they take flight.

Further along the road, I glance through a gap in the right-hand tree line and catch a glimpse of some roe deer.  They are difficult to spot in this light as they are blending tonally into their surroundings.  Walking quietly, I reach the end of the bushes and slowly turn the corner.  I am able to get a better view from here and manage not to startle them.  There look to be six in all, grazing on a field margin and sheltered by a long, undulating hedge.  The white markings on their hind-quarters are the only parts of them to stand out against the mud and twigs.  I don’t want to disturb them, so I turn back and take another route.

The lane climbs upwards, between some buildings and a small wood. The view is diminished, but I am cheered by the songs of skylarks above the fields on either side.  Their high-pitched tunes ripple like a musical waterfall.

Back in the studio, despite the poor light, work must be done.  I complete the gessoing of the panels and make a rapid colour sketch on a large sheet of paper.  Then I begin to paint backgrounds on the panels that are fully dried and sanded.  Finally, I cut up the sketch and use it to make a collage, in order to help me to think about composition.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson