Group of Woodland Figures

170320 SM Figures

Subconscious Musing, 20 March 2017, mixed media on sugar-paper, 59x86cm.

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I Know a Place

170131 Woodland 01
Acrylics on canvas, 45x61cm.

I know a place where the birds sing softly.
I know a place where the leaves lie gently.

I know a place where field mice forage
And wood lice feast
on fallen logs.

I know a place where the wind sighs high through the canopy
and pine needles drop to replenish the earth
in a thick spiky carpet of orange and brown.

I know a place where we always meet
To renew our bonds
In secret union.

I know a place where I will be happy
To spend eternity
With you.

Shady Grove

p1160955
Acrylics on canvas, 46x61cm.

Cheeks as red as the blooming rose, eyes of the deepest brown,
You are the darling of my heart, stay till the sun goes down.

Shady Grove my little love, Shady Grove my dear.
Shady Grove my little love, I’m going to leave you here.

Shady Grove my little love, standing at the door,
Shoes and stockin’s in her hand and her little bare feet on the floor.

Wisht I had a big fine horse, corn to feed him on,
Pretty little girl stay at home, feed him when I’m gone.

Shady Grove my little love, Shady Grove I say,
Shady Grove, my little love,
Don’t wait till Judgement Day.

I learned this traditional Appalachian mountain-song at High School (Rutherglen Academy) Ballads Club under tutelage of Norman Buchan, my English teacher. This version is from a boys point of view unlike the version linked here by Shelly Colvin live at Music City Roots at the Loveless Café in Nashville. Don’t know who her guitarist is but he sure does a fine job on that gee-tar!

Original charcoal sketch inspirations:
160525-01-grove

160525-02-grove

Doon the Glen

160919-calderglen-02-stage3
Acrylics on canvas, 51×100.2cm.

Doon the Glen there’s a great muckle tree                                    :down, great big
Blaw’n o’er by the wind last January                                               :blown over
It’s roots exposed to the winter rains we get in June
An’ a’ it’s branches ripped aff in the fa’.                                        :off, fall

It spans frae bank tae bank o’ the wee mickle burn                     :small
That feeds the Rotten Ca’der,                                                              :Rotten Calder
That meets the Clyde at Redlawood,
Rins through the great City of Glesga                                               :runs, Glasgow
And oot through the Firth tae the wide Atlantic Ocean.             :out, to

D’ye think a’ they sticks I drapped in the watter                         :dropped, water
Will wan day wash up on some foreign shore – France,
Spain, Portugal? Mibbies e’en America?                                        :perhaps even

If ye fun wan o’ them please send it hame.                                  :find one, home
It’ll hae ma name oan it.                                                                     :have, on
And the Saltire Cross.                                                          :Scotland’s national flag

Fairy Dell

160914-calderglen-01

…or, Spot the Elves!

Out of this wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!

Acrylics on canvas, 51x76cm.