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