Midwinter solstice – The Artist in Studio Hundy

Advent calling

Gathering inner light

A bright moon, clear nights, crisp frosts, blue sky days and intermittent grey rain – it is December.

Birds in the garden seek what they can. The Wren searches in the stone wall for insects, the Robin rules its territory, bouncing and flicking its tale to ward off intruders. Buzzards wait patiently on telegraph poles – one such perch used on occasions also by a Kestrel. Sparrows assemble in the hedgerow awaiting the bird seed or fat balls to be put out and then descend in great numbers, “squabbling” as they feed. Blue tits seem to “fall” between branches within the pine tree to gain access to the nut feeder. The 3 broods of Blackbirds that hatched in the summer nest by the shed are feasting on fallen apples.

The water bath outside our kitchen window, when not frozen, seems to be a welcome place to take a sip, a dip, or even a proper shower.

Bringing in greenery generates a sense of freshness to a world now largely sealed off from the outside elements. Windows tightly sealed, curtains drawn at 4pm, keeping in that vital warm.

Adding a little extra light compensates for the long dark nights.

Many hours in December have been spent in Studio Hundy engaged in the printing process. This year I rose to the challenge of a 4 colour reduction linocut. I discovered various things along the way, but am always delighted by the experience of seeing the image gradually evolve as each new colour block is printed.

As the earth “slumbers” and plant growth stills, the animal kingdom continues with its winter activities; whilst we, as humans, have the potential to experience the anticipation that advent brings.

Four seasonal mandalas

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.

Midwinter’s nigh

Slumbering earth

Moon rising

We are very close to the midwinter solstice and the shortest day. Physical darkness predominates at this time of year – often during the daylight hours as well. We frequently encounter grey, overcast skies. What a delight it is when we see the winter sun, or perhaps an occasional rainbow.

Even the sight of the full moon’s brightness brings joy.

We yearn for the light in winter and as advent advances, I find myself more and more enjoying not only the warmth of the fire, but also the heart-warming orange glow of the embers.

Irrespective of our religious beliefs, this time of year is very often a time of preparation, and perhaps also reflection. For me, certain activities enhance the sense of anticipation – the printing of a Christmas card in Studio Hundy or cutting greenery from the garden for a garland or door wreath; these are all part of what makes the lead up to Christmas special.

The earth feels as if it is somehow “slumbering” now, but there is still a lot of activity in nature, particularly amongst the many birds that visit our garden.

What a fantastic treat I had earlier in the week when I was refilling the feeder on the tall birch tree. Just before I came down from the ladder, a Long-tailed-tit perched itself on a branch just inches away. A few minutes later a “flock” of 8 to 10 of these beautiful birds arrived. The message was out!