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

14 January

At 2.30am I hear the long, wavering call of a male Tawny owl.  The “hoo, hoo, hooo…” travels across the dark and silent landscape to where I lay listening.  I don’t find the sound remotely spooky; to me it is comforting - the voice of another creature awake at this lonely hour.

We spend a peaceful day walking and reading.  During the early afternoon I go out to the studio and use it as a hide, setting up my camera and taking photographs of the bird of prey and the garden birds.  At one point, I am intrigued to see the kestrel and the woodpecker sitting on adjacent posts, happily ignoring each other and focussing on their respective tasks.

The bird feeders are doing a brisk trade and for some time I concentrate on a female blackbird.  I am very fond of blackbirds.  Their bright eyes and quick movements make them look so alert and inquisitive.  I often have them in mind when making the shapes of birds in my paintings.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

13 January

It is heartening to see the pale golden sun reaching out from under a band of light grey cloud, as I look out over the garden this morning.  The goldfinches are already raiding the bird feeders and the robin is hopping about territorially at the base of the apple trees.

In the little meadow, the green woodpecker and the kestrel return to seek out their respective food sources.  They have become daily visitors now and I am pleased to think that we are helping to feed them.  I go outside to chop some kindling and see that the emerging snowdrops are beginning to form tiny white flower heads.  My arrival disturbs the woodpecker, who flies off to the safety of a nearby hedge.  The flight patterns of woodpeckers always amuse me.  I watch it travel in an up-and-down scalloped-shaped line.  It’s body shape makes it look like a flying wooden skittle.

I pack some work to go to an exhibition and review yesterday’s painting.  The compositions need to rattle around in the back of my mind for a bit longer.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

12 January

The first sound that I hear on waking, is a robin singing....and singing....and singing.  There is virtually no light, but he is in full voice.  I cannot prove it, but my gut feeling is that a change has occurred, and that he is singing for longer.  I suspect that the holding of winter territory is now overlapping with singing to attract a mate.

The dawn breaks onto another grey morning, but the cloud begins to thin and soon patches of watery blue sky appear.  I realise how something as simple as a glimpse of colour in the sky cheers my heart and energises me.  

We take the path through a wooded area, and I see a flash of pinkish-brown out of the corner of my eye, and then another.  A jay zooms through the trees at head height, to my left.  

In the studio I work on two paintings, adding colour and building up the layers.

During the late afternoon, the sun emerges from beneath the cloud base, just for five or so minutes, but the effect on the colour of the landscape is striking.  A line of trees on the horizon turns an amazing red-gold.

I love art, but it can never out-do nature.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

11 January

Fog.  Visibility is down and sounds are muffled.  It makes the landscape look mysterious.....but is still not good for painting!

I do what I can, but then the framer very kindly delivers some work and I set about constructing a box and packing a painting to be sent to a customer.  It is a kind of law of the universe that, no matter how many boxes I save to recycle, there is never one that is quite the right size!  Thus I begin wrestling with cardboard, fasteners and tape before I have a bespoke container for the picture.

Millie and I have our second outing at dusk.  I walk to a location from which I sometimes see owls take off at this time of day.  Unfortunately not this evening.  The sound of our steps disturbs a few roosting birds.  They shuffle amidst the branches overhead, whilst the trees “drip, drip” in the silence.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

9 January

Another day of grey.  There is almost no air movement and consequently the heavy layer of cloud refuses to budge.  It continues to sit over us, rendering the light as virtually permanent twilight.  But the birds are busy.  In the morning the small white ovals of distant gulls look like scattered grains of rice on the green surface of an emergent crop.  I hear, but do not see, a buzzard, somewhere above me.  The “mew mew” is a strangely high-pitched call for such a large bird.

Necessary appointments break into the hours of work, and when I can get into the studio I continue the preparation of panels, in order to build up my stock of paint-ready surfaces.  This will aid the fast flow of ideas later.

At dusk, as we walk home from the direction of the church, I listen to the “spink, spink” of blackbirds in the hedgerows on either side and calling from somewhere up ahead.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/

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

8 January

It is one of those winter days when it never seems to get fully light.  A thick layer of cloud drapes itself over the whole landscape like a damp, grey blanket. There is no frost today, but it is bitterly cold and the concrete farm roads are slippery underfoot.  All their potholes and crevices are packed with ice.

We walk briskly along, in order to keep warm.  Two horses, wearing what look like oilskin coats, lean silently over the rails of their paddock and stare at us as we pass.

The poor light levels are not good for painting, even with the studio lights.  It is very difficult to accurately assess colour in these conditions.  Instead, I begin preparing panels with layers of gesso, so that I will have surfaces to work on later in the week.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/