Abstract Landscape Painter. Rural Dweller. Lover of Modernist Art and Design.
8 February
Frost. A coating covers everything outdoors. The field on the other side of the valley is lightened in tone and turned to a warm, rose-tinted ochre, by the rising sun. The trees in line with the cottage cast long, mauve-brown, saw-tooth shadows across its surface.
I am pleased to see that some of the fieldfares have found their way into the meadow. They are most welcome! I take photos as quickly as I can - of one on the floor and another sitting on a fence post. When they are facing me I can see how similar they are to their cousins, the song thrush and the mistle thrush.
The wide puddles on the muddy airfield tracks are covered in ice. There are curved and swirling lines in its underside, and air bubbles trapped in its surface.
A flock of birds takes off on the far side of a large field. They travel together as a mass of dark specks. Their combined form, an ovoid shape, trapped between the horizon and three, white, linear clouds.
The cold studio soon begins to warm and Millie curls up beneath her blanket on the armchair. Just before lunch, whilst cleaning my mixing knife, I inadvertently slice the tip of my little finger. The mini trowel has rounded edges, but its blade is so thin that it makes a quick, deep cut. Being a fingertip, it bleeds persistently, so I wrap a cloth around it, binding it tightly, and grip the cloth. I am keen to finish applying the paint with which I am currently working. There are areas of the painting that I want to continue working on while the ideas are flowing and the colours are mixed. I hate being disturbed when I am part way through a process. It can be difficult to pick up exactly where you left off. Next time I come to the painting I will be different; a bit like waking briefly from a dream - when I fall asleep again, it will be a different dream.
All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson
http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/
