My wanderings take me to quiet places devoid of people and mostly that’s the way I like it:
“Along the Forest Footpath“, Acrylics on paper, 42x59cm.
Sometimes, however, I feel that certain landscapes need the presence of people to not only populate it but to bring welcome life otherwise we wouldn’t have any experience of it at all. This forest footpath I think is crying out for either a single figure, perhaps walking a dog, or a couple, who could be young lovers or more to my generation, old lovers, out enjoying the Great Outdoors. What do you think it could it be?
On my wanderings up and down the Glen I always stop at a place I call The Race which is my description of how the river races down over flat slabs of rock and plunges into a deep pool, smoothes out, gurgles around, and then makes off in a sedate manner on it’s onward journey. I always stop there and lean over the barrier to contemplate the Meaning of Life [42, since you ask].
The sun dips down below the horizon and the woods grow quiet. No more for today the chatter of tits or the machine-gun rattle of pica pica (magpies). The trees that remain vertical after the early January storms attempt to incarcerate the Rotten Calder but cannot contain it’s incessant flow to the Clyde and the sea.
Mixed media (charcoal and Neocolour) in sketchbook, A5.
The big freeze continues although bright sunshine still makes it a much better day for sketching than working in the studio.
Hopefully when the dreich weather returns I’ll be confined to barracks and so will try to convert some of these sketches into paintings. Personally I would rather paint direct from the subject but it’s too far for me to humpf painting gear the length of Calderglen, so I content myself with sketching.
“South Bridge”, mixed media in sketchbook, 2xA5.
The bridge is unfortunately closed off at the moment because of the danger of rockfalls further along the track.