Watching The River Flow.

"No man ever steps in the same river twice" - Heraclitus

This is a scene that I have painted before. This version is different (no stepping into the same river twice), and much bigger than the previous version. It's Cod Beck in Thirsk.

Cod Beck is the only place where I have seen lampreys. Being migratory, they must have made their way from the North Sea up a series of rivers including the Humber, from Hull; the Ouse, through York; the Ure from Cuddy Shaw Reach to near Myton, where they picked up the Swale to Topcliffe. At this point they turned into Cod Beck at Topcliffe and followed it to Thirsk. That's quite a journey for a fish. They've been around, largely unchanged for millions of years.

So I've seen lampreys, otters, deer, and most other things. Just need to see a live badger now.

This painting is a return to landscape. The canvas is a little narrow for what I wanted, although it looked okay in the shop. I found it quite restrictive. I initially decided to make a feature of the sky in the way that I painted it. I want lots of mark-making and dribbled paint. It hasn't quite gone according to plan on that score yet, but it isn't finished so we'll see where it goes. At the moment I am thinking of adding a pair of wheeling buzzards into the sky. That puts me in mind of Kurt Jackson, and one of his 'Field' paintings. I'll give it some thought before I do it.

 Blocking in. I love this stage; it's probably the most exciting bit.

 Drawing some of the shapes with a finger wrapped in a rag.

 Scrubbling in colours,

 Starting to refine the shapes.

 And a little more...

 ........

 &  little more..

I think the sky need to get messier, and maybe a couple of buzzards wheeling?
Ok. Let it sit for a while and think about the sky and those buzzards..

 Ok. No major changes. Just a few highlights on the water, in the left foreground, and a little lightening of tone in places in the sky.
Oh, and a pair of buzzards wheeling.

(detail)
I will probably work into the bids a little, but for the sake of this posting, it's done.
Sticking with the Dylan influence, I've changed the title to:

Freewheelin'

If I had wings and I could fly,

I know where I would go.

But right now I'l just sit here so contentedly

And watch the river flow.

 - Bob Dylan

Here I Stand. I Can Do No Other

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.  ~Martin Luther

One of my previous tree paintings was completed and blogged about at the end of our Ofsted inspection (post: November 9th 2013) . This one was finished at the start of Sara's Ofsted week, and as I said about ours at the time, I look forward to reading the report. I'm sure that they will have done well - they deserve to.

Most people seem to agree that there is something very special about trees. I'm not sure if it is because of their age, or their size. Probably it is a combination of both - and something else..

This painting is larger than the others I have done, and is based on a photograph that I took during a walk with Sara along Nidd Gorge near Knaresborough at half term. I wanted to isolate the tree, so that it stands against a (textured) background. I wanted to enjoy the paint, as well as the process, allowing it to run and layer, so I used different brushes (most were bigger and different shaped) to the ones that I usually use, so the the marks that that they made would be different to my usual fare. 

The title, like the quote above,comes from the German reformer Martin Luther.

Anyway, here it is:

Blocking in and laying down some colour.

Moving the paint around and establishing some of the shapes.

......

The main shapes and starting to build up the background.

Starting to build up the detail of the tree.

 .... starting to get there, but the bottom of the trunk is too thick, and it needs a little more colour and contrast.

Here I stand. I Can Do No Other

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds

To darken nature and be summer woods -~Robert Frost

Jackdaw

Corvus Monedula

 

I have no more knowledge of the fact than the Devil has of the jackdaw.

- Old saying.

 

Jackdaws are considered sacred in some parts, because of their propensity to live around, and nest in, churches. The Devil will have nothing to do with them because of this. This, and the fact that they are supposedly innocent birds,  despite the fat that they are believed to take your stuff and hide it, explains the saying above.

 

Our garden was visited by a beautiful little Jackdaw on Saturday, and it stuck around long enough for me to grab my camera, so I thought I'd have a quick go at painting one.





Jackdaw

The swans will sing when the jackdaws are silent

 - Ancient Greek & Roman saying.

Long Tailed Tits

Aegithalos Caudatus

I spent yesterday at Staveley Nature Reserve near Harrogate, taking photographs for a painting that was never going to get painted. Well, it got painted. 

It was freezing cold, but I managed to get settled into a hide and, between taking photographs, have a good conversation with a like-minded individual. 

I don't know any folk tales surrounding these beautiful birds, but I love the way that they flitter around in groups. Individually they have to be one of the prettiest of our common birds. As a group, with their long, elegant tails, I love the way that they break up the shape of the feeders that they descended on yesterday.

 Mapping out where everything is going.

The first tit.

 detail.

 Building it up, bird by bird.

 Detail.

 Starting to look at the fatballs.

Finally with the feeder added.

Aegithalos caudatus

The King of Birds?

Troglodytes troglodytes

"He who shall hurt the little wren 

  Shall never be belov'd by men." - William Blake Auguries of Innocence

At New Year it is said that  the apprentice Druid would go out by himself into the countryside in search of hidden wisdom. If he found a wren he would take that as a sign that he would be blessed with inner knowledge in the coming year. Finding a creature small and elusive to the point of invisibility was a metaphor for finding the elusive divinity within all life. Well we had one on the garden yesterday and I'm still looking for some elusive divinity.

St Stephen's Day (26th December) used to be so called, because it was a custom amoung villagers to stone a wren to death on that day in commemoration of the stoning of Saint Stephen.  It was believed that the wren's song betrayed St. Stephen, hiding from pursuit, to martyrdom. Thus on St. Stephen's Day, December 26, a wren was traditionally killed, and a group of boys would carry it in procession from house to house.

The name Wren means king in most European languages, including Manx.

Has there ever been a bird with richer folklore attached to it?

Time to let it dry for a few days.

Blue Tit

Cyanistes caeruleus

Blue tits learned to peck the tops off milk bottles in the 1920s in Southampton, before the trick spread everywhere. I remember them doing this when I was young in Sheffield. Apparently they weren't after the milk, because they have a lactose intolerance, but the cream on top (of full fat milk) is a rich source of energy for them. It doesn't seem to happen anymore, but then how many people get milk delivered these days? We do, but it's skimmed/semi-skimmed.

My sparrow is too wet to work on, so I've started a new painting, this time of a blue tit. I sometimes go ages without painting, and it's been a while since I had several paintings on the go at the same time, but you have to make hay while the sun shines. I suppose you only speak when you have something to say.

Another one chalked up to learning. Still, I enjoyed the day.

Cyanistes Caeruleus

House Sparrow

Passer domesticus

After sitting counting and recording for the RSPB's big garden birdwatch for an hour today, I got the impetus to start something I've been meaning to do for some time; painting birds. What I'd like to do is look afresh at some of our more familiar, common birds - the ones we take for granted.
I'm interested in any folklore that might be associated with them, and if I learn something about them along the way, all the better.
The house sparrow is in decline, and has been for some time. We don't really know why, but the smart money seems to be on effective herbicides killing weeds. No weeds, no seeds. It also appears that with changing agricultural habits, there is less acreage left with stubble, further reducing available food supplies. Shame.
In folklore, the sparrow plays different roles, depending where you are. Apparently if one flies into your house in the Europe, it's an omen that someone will soon die. In Indonesia, it means that there will soon be a wedding.
They are a symbol of Christianity - an offering given by those with very little to give. They are soul catchers to both ancient Egyptians, and to mariners, who used to tattoo themselves with a sparrow, to ensure their soul's safe pass should they perish at sea. Shakespeare and Chaucer both made reference to their lustfulness.
Dreaming of sparrows represents your feelings of being loved and comforted.

I'll have another look tomorrow, when it's dried off a little.

Painting the sparrow was trickier than I thought it would be. 

Hmmm. Every endeavour leads to either success or learning. 

Chalk this one up to learning.

That's as much as I'm doing. Finished.

Passer Domesticus