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

30 January

The clear weather continues, and the sun rises over frozen ground.  However, the crimson band just above the horizon suggests that this will change before long.

In the lane, where the hedges have been closely cropped, the green, rounded tips of daffodil leaves have started to appear in the banks.

I take advantage of the good light and manage to complete the painting based on last week’s woodland visit.  I use the colour notes that I recorded in situ, but otherwise work from memory.  The result successfully reminds me of the feelings of peace and seclusion.

http://www.artistinthelandscape.co.uk/carolsaundersone.html

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

29 January

In the latter part of the afternoon the rain departs and the sky clears to allow for a vibrant sunset.

Walking homeward, I see the moon, almost full, shining a brilliant silver/white in the darkening sky.  It looks like the most perfectly lit Chinese lantern, suspended above the landscape.

When I arrive at the cottage, I turn at the front door and look back, to see it peering at me through the branches of the trees opposite.  I think of Shakespeare’s Robin Starveling, carrying a lantern and a thorn bush in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

28 January

I am very aware of horizontal bands in the landscape today - narrow strips of field; lines of hedges; slender, rectangular blocks of mauve cloud.  During my weekly stint of kindling chopping, I pause to watch the white flecks of gulls moving forward and back repeatedly over the surface of the earth, into and with the prevailing wind.

The sun breaks through in the afternoon and at 3.20pm I see that the moon has appeared in the pale blue sky.  The light is warm and we see aconites and snowdrops in flower.  Spring begins to feel close at hand.

I return from the walk and spend some time looking at the work of Mark Rothko and William Scott.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

26 January

Fog lies over the landscape this morning.  I wait until the sky above me has become milky white, and then set off to visit an area of private woodland, to which I have very kindly been granted access.

Within the wood, all is perfectly still and the mist creates an atmospheric backdrop.  I walk silently along the paths, pausing to take photographs.  Whilst I am there, the fog lifts and the sun saturates the surrounding hues.  I record the colours of moss, leaves and bark.

I return to the studio to paint during the afternoon, using the colour notes as reference for the current painting.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

25 January

In a complete contrast to yesterday, the day is bright and quiet.  The winter sun gleams between the narrow uprights of young trees, casting them into strong relief.  The hedges in the lane have been cut into sharp castellations and the path is scattered with shards.

The light is good for painting and I manage another full day at the easel, making some gains. I am not yet sure exactly what tack the piece is going to take, and will review it with fresh eyes tomorrow.  Some paintings can take a while to reveal themselves, but no addition is ever wasted. 

Painting, it turns out, is very successful as pain relief.  The regular, sharp, stabbing pains caused by the shingles, go unnoticed whilst I am working.  The concentration and problem solving required, block out the sensations in my back.

After work, we take another walk and when the sun has set, I see the half moon caught in the treetops as we pass though the wood.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

24 January

It is not a good day to be carrying a large painting along a high street.  The bag is likely to act as a sail in the wet and windy weather.  I park as close as possible to the gallery, tuck as much of the parcel as I can under my arm, and make a dash for the door.  Fortunately, I arrive safely and manage not to take out any ceramics as collateral damage on the way in, which is always a result in my book!  (Or smack the picture on the door frame - another old favourite).

I make a short trip to the framers and then set off for home.  The road on which I leave the village must be one of the highest for several miles around.  From it there are expansive views of rippling and rolling countryside, peppered with timbered houses and a church tower.  In the distance I can see that a very heavy band of rain is heading towards me.  The layer has turned to thick mist and as I arrive at the junction with the main road, the rain starts hammering on the vehicle.  The wind howls across my path as I climb a steep hill to a particularly exposed section.  Water runs down the road like stream.

In the afternoon, I add another layer to a painting and varnish two others.  By twilight, the weather has begun to clear.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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

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

23 January

Despite the increased tiredness caused by the virus/meds combo, I manage to put in almost a full day’s painting.  The concentration very effectively reduces the pain and itch of the ever-increasing number of blisters around my waist.

I work mainly with a blue/mauve palette, include some warm greens and highlight with touches of orange and pink.  I am still thinking about the small garden birds and am very aware of their increasing activity and song around me as I walk - especially at twilight.  The recent shadows on snow are in my head and so I paint the little ones busily taking their last meal of the day, as the winter sun sets behind distant shrubs and trees, and just before they go to roost.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

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