Learning the Art in Living - Artist and Art for Health Practitioner. Working with the creative process for health and well being: Painting / Drawing / Installations / Nature / Sound
As September begins, a sure sign that summer is coming to a close is the change we see in the patterns of the Swallows and House martins. A subtle change that accompanies the transition of the light.
Their early morning flight in large groups, their congregating on telegraph lines, their loud chitter chatter – all signalling that they will be departing soon for distant shores.
For me there is a sadness that accompanies this time, captured in the lines of Mary Webb’s poem:
Within my spirit is a voice that grieves,
Reminding me of empty autumn skies.
“Swallows” by Webb, M. (1930) The collected works of Mary Webb. Poems and The Spring of Joy. London: Jonathon Cape, 1928.
In a small attempt to celebrate these wonderful migrant visitors that bring such joy every year, I have put together a short video clip. It is fairly basic, using limited equipment/resources, but for me it catches something of the anticipatory mood inherent in the “jubilant” activities of these beautiful birds.
ART AS A MINDFUL PROCESS with Ian Wiggle
At Old Gala House – Galashiels
I am running three themed, process inspired workshops during September in the Scottish Borders. They can be booked independently or in any combination.
These workshops are about slowing down, taking time, becoming aware – a kind of “listening” with the eyes. No previous artistic experience is needed as I will gently guide participants, creating familiarity and confidence with the art materials and process.
CONVERSATIONS WITH COLOUR
A 2 hour well-being painting workshop.
This workshop is less about “how to paint”, but rather the emphasis is on experiencing and enjoying the artistic-creative process itself.
It is about exploring the qualities and moods of colours, individually and when in “conversation” with each other. You will use an oil-on-paper rag technique as a way of connecting directly with the colours. All art materials provided.
A full day workshop (10.30 to 3.30) set in the gardens and Scott Room at Old Gala House.
It is a creative blend of science and art exploring the mysteries of plants; seeing the plant world not only with the eyes, but also with the heart.
The emphasis is on experiencing nature creatively through a journey of exploration.
We will use guided observation, drawing, charcoal and colour (pastels) as the tools for participants to arrive at their own unique creative expression of the chosen plant.
All art materials provided. Bring your own snack for lunch.
Responding to the changing light – Autumn / Winter / Spring / Summer
Accompanying the change of light throughout the year, a small group of us have been taking the same walk to a nearby woodland, making seasonal mandalas with found materials provided by nature.
We started at the Autumn equinox in September 2022, repeating the same walk on the Winter solstice and then again in Spring, and finally on the Summer solstice that has just passed.
We tried to be sensitive to the qualities of the day light at each of these 4 points in the calendar, as well as the weather, atmosphere and to the changes we observed in surrounding nature. Responding to these we collectively choose a spot, in or near the woodland, making our mandala using the variety of materials that nature provided at the time.
Photographs do not do justice to the 3 dimensional, sculptural forms that we created. They can only hint at the different locations, materials and qualities that each of the four mandalas revealed.
Autumn Equinox
A large expansive mandala formed, within the woodland itself, beneath the canopy of leaves still present on the trees. The transition here from the dominant light of the summer – diminishing to meet an equal proportion of darkness in the night – felt significant as a backdrop to our form. Similarly the differentiation of light and dark within the mandala was so subtle that it seemed to merge with the natural undergrowth on which it had been created.
Found materials reflected the summer growth that had not yet come to a complete hault, and yet we could also feel the movement in nature towards winter.
Winter Solstice
In contrast the site for this mandala was nestled within a cluster of now bare birch trees.
An old mossy stump centred in this small grove was our focal point. A moist misty day gave plenty of opportunity for using mosses, lichens, rotting leaves, ferns and more. Whilst the mandala was concentrated on the tree stump, it rayed outwards beyond the cluster of trees as if dissolving into the rest of the woodland.
To acknowledge the time of least daytime light, we placed a small lantern in the centre and lit the candle.
Spring Equinox
Our chosen spot for this mandala was on the edge of the woodland. On the boundary between bare branched deciduous trees and the “devastation” in the open area, fairly recently cleared of (mostly) pine trees.
This position felt more open and bright compared to inside the woodland and suited the sense of an increasing light, growing into and through the spring equinox. Our mandala gradually formed out of crumbling bark, cones, branches, feathers, stones, moss and lichen.
Summer Solstice
Finally we returned to the same woodland at the summer solstice. We were aware as a group that we found it hard to find a place or focal point for the mandala. We explored the area for some time before agreeing to use a large upturned stump of a pine. This was in the open area of “devastation” from previous felling. The bare barky ground now beginning to “green”, populated with small creeping plants and other seedlings.
The beautiful stump, with its gnarled roots protruding skywards, acted like an “altar” on which we placed, wove and threaded our summer finds.
A rhododendron bush, growing on the boundary, provided flashes of colour amongst the greenery, grasses and ferns.
Four seasonal mandalas created collectively, without much planning or discussion, responding to nature’s rhythm within the cycle of the year. Thanks to the freinds that participated in this creative, and quite magicial process.
For the last month – or more – we’ve been hearing the cheerful chatter of martins and swallows at the front and back of the house. Flying high overhead in the clear blue skies, skimming low over crops in nearby fields, and swooping and turning with dynamic aerobatics, down and up to their nests in the eaves. Their characteristic twittering, uttered on the wing, is even more pronouced as they land on, or enter into the nest.
This year we are “fortunate” to have a nest right outside our bedroom window! So in the early hours, when they are busy catching insects and returning to the nest to feed their young, we are treated to the sound of their constant nattering. I wonder what they are “saying”?
The garden at this time of year suddenly brings colour, texture and form in abundance. The borders have grown tall and plants are competing for their place in the light.
Some have reached their full flowering potential, whilst others are still emerging from buds. Echos of spring can be seen in swelling seed pods.
What a delight it is to walk quietly through this palette of nature, drinking in the changes that occur each day.
As part of my Art as a Mindful Process, these 4 workshops will explore, through colour moods, the quality and movement of the light, as day passes to night and re-emerges at dawn.
We will be using a wet-on-wet watercolour technique as a way of experiencing the changing light.
These workshops are about slowing down, taking time, becoming aware – a kind of “listening” with the eyes. No previous artistic experience is needed as I will guide participants, creating familiarity and confidence with the art materials and process.
Local to Hawick in the Scottish Borders? …. and interested, go to: Live Borders Creative Spaces to book a place.
2021 is coming to a close and it is the last day of the last month of my “Sound Calendar”.
Although I have been listening carefully throughout December for something in nature that would represent this 12th month of the year, it has not appeared on my sonic horizon.
Instead I have chosen an audio clip, I have called “Time”. In December it seems to run away with itself, particularly in advent. It can feel hectic. And yet there is also a feeling of time slowing down when Christmas arrives; perhaps it even stands still? Time takes on a heightened significance as the old year comes to an end and we prepare for the new.
TimeWinter Mandala – created together on a walk (30th Dec 2021)
You can listen to the audio clips for the full 12 months of 2021 in:
On one of my regular walks, as the November light was beginning to fade, I was struck by the variety of sounds coming from the cow sheds on our local farm.
It was a “demanding” noise that seemed to signify something was about to happen. As the volume increased, a farm vehicle emerged with the evening feed. I returned at the same time the following day with my sound recorder and, on cue, the “cow chorus” began.
Light changes, weather shifts as autumn takes hold of the year. The greens and yellows of summer gradually turn into warm reds and oranges. Often wet and windy with intermittent days of calm, soft sunlight.
My soundscape this month tells a short story of transition. It parallels the change that can also occur in our relationship to the world at this time of year; from outer to inner focus – our desire for warmth and comfort, as we experience the cold and wet outside. At an onomatopoeic level – from dreich to hygge.
Listen on headphones for the best effect.
A sound story – Dreich to Hygge
The warm colours of autumn moving into earthy rich browns, and the glow of fire embers in the dark chamber of the woodburner, remind me of the colours and contrasts often seen in many Rembrandt paintings.
A free study of Rembrandt colours – chalk pastel on black paper
Cooler days have arrived and there is a definite autumnal feel in the air. The regular sight and sound of skeins of geese has now started. It is an indication that summer is truly over. These flypasts will become a more frequent occurrence, louder and with greater numbers, as we enter into October. Sometimes the geese fly in their characteristic V formation at a distance, to the north or south of our house, and occasionally (if we are lucky) immediately overhead.
Skein of Geese – watercolour sketch 2021
I have wanted to record the very particular “calling” sound of these birds for some time now, and was fortunate enough to have my sound gear at the ready this year.
I was also interested to visit a local loch where, I was told, the geese often congregate in the evening. So at the weekend we walked to Hule Loch, located on exposed moorland between Greenlaw and Duns. Sitting in the small hide we were able to take in the panoramic view of the loch, its multiplicity of birds and the surrounding hills. The colours and light changed so dramatically during the short time we were there, as the wind blew, the rain came in from the west and cleared again.
Although the sound of the wind was quite dominant inside the hide, I was able to capture several minutes of audio to bring back to Studio Hundy.
I have created a September sound piece encompassing 3 phases: over our house – a large skein flying in from the east and away to the west; from the hide – a small group of birds on the loch taking flight; and finally (also from the hide) – a large skein of geese coming in to land.
Geese soundscape
The latter was a fascinating occurence as the large cluster of birds seemed to ungainly drop down onto the surface of the water in a random manner, like some kind of precipitation out of the sky! As they landed onto the water their “cries” diminished, until eventually the loud cacophony of sound gave way to an occasional “squawk” or honk.
It’s a sharp sound to listen to, and at the same time incredibly beautiful – also so unmistakable!
The Artist in Studio Hundy 