Inspired

I visited an exhibition today in Leeds that contained an exquisite little book called 'A Venetian Brocade' by Helen Douglas, who is a Scottish artist and photographer. The images in her book are collages and layered images of Venice. I was really inspired by them and wondered if I could create something similar related to Saltaire. I took the basic idea (though I could not, of course, not slavishly follow it as I could only guess how she'd created the pictures). Anyway, playing around with some of my recent pictures of Salts Mill and the canal, I have come up with this collage. I do quite like it, though I'm sure with more practice I could improve on it. 

Patterns - and creativity

I seem to be adopting a blue theme in the last few posts. (Cool! 😄)  Here's a collage I made of reflections of Salts Mill in the canal. I'm often drawn to these patterns in the canal and river, which constantly change with the light and the movement of the water. Saltaire is so familiar to me and, even though it's a stunning World Heritage Site, I sometimes get bored by the same old views of the same old places. It's good to challenge myself to make something 'new' of it - and these sorts of patterns and abstracts are as 'original' as you can get, in that each frame cannot be repeated exactly. 

Having said that, I also feel a little frustrated that I get so far and then can't get any further, creatively speaking. This is not displeasing - nice colours and shapes - but I can't help feeling I should be able to make more of it. It's not really very artistic. It reminds me of when I was doing 'O' level Art. I'd drawn some flowers, quite nicely and neatly, and my art teacher took up a brush with red paint and drew a big messy outline around each flower head, with the idea of encouraging me to be freer and looser in my work. It clearly wasn't the right way to go about getting me to relax into it. I was horrified and didn't really see what she was getting at.  Now, I do, of course, but I still can't free my brain of that 'neat' gene. 

OK, pushing myself to riff on the theme now... a paler version:

Pale and layered ( probably like this the best!):

A layered and blended version: 

Change the colours: 

Spring

 'Spring is when life’s alive in everything.' 

Christina Rossetti

'It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, 

a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, 

and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.'    

John Galsworthy

Liminal

Such a familiar sight and yet it continues to uplift me every time I see it. I've lived in the shadow of Salts Mill's chimney for over twenty-four years now and it has become an old friend that says 'home' to me. There is something about this shot that speaks to me. We have reached a liminal time of year. Nature doesn't know if it is winter or spring: bright sunshine promises warmth and doesn't quite deliver, a biting wind harks back to winter frosts, bare trees have leaf buds only just appearing and yet there's the occasional flurry of early blossom. The cherry trees on the main road have yet to flower but there is apple blossom in our gardens and blackthorn blossom in the hedgerows. And that blue, blue sky... a clear blue that does suggest a certain crisp cold. 

I am becoming aware that I'm reaching a liminal point in life too. Without really consciously deciding, I know it is time to prepare to move to a smaller and more easily managed home. I've loved living here in this old, solid, stone terrace, full of echoes of previous families who've lived here (I sense very contentedly), to which I've added my own story. It's been a real haven and is wonderfully located, in a good community. But these old houses take some managing and the steep stairs (though they allow the high ceilings that make the rooms feel spacious) will one day take me some managing too. They're not a problem yet but having Covid over Christmas underlined to me that the gap between 'coping' and 'not coping' is actually surprisingly narrow. I don't want to be forced out by ill health of one kind or another (though there is no sign of that yet) so I realise I need to prepare for and make a willing choice to downsize and future-proof  (as much as one is able) before I am forced to do so by circumstance and before the undoubted stress of moving starts to look too daunting. 

I've an idea of where I'd like to move to - and it's not far away. Beyond making sensible preparations to get this house to a saleable point (tidying and decluttering mainly) there is little I can do except to be ready to jump should a suitable property become available. I am, of course, already wishing it to happen, even before I am really 'ready'. Just as no-one can speed up the seasonal changes and there are false starts and it is frustrating 'waiting' for Spring, I shall have to wait and trust the process. I have to place it in God's hands. He hasn't let me down so far!