The first afternoon had that feeling of being let out to play after school has finished for the summer – you know it’s going to rain but you don’t care. That feeling continued for much of the stay. I’ve tried to bring it home with me.
I settled in quickly, the landscape felt like home. My routine revolved around meals and the weather. With no commitments or obligations, I quickly settled into purely caring for myself – and although a routine was established, it could be broken at a moment’s notice to photograph or draw, or to just stop and watch the sea.
I met very few people and that suited the purposes of my stay. But those I met were great and the sporadic conversations were nourishing. The guest list, a neighbour, a taxi driver, sheep, cattle, robins, dogs (in particular, a collie who ran the length of the road to meet me as I approached his house), a black cat, thrushes and blackbirds… and dolphins.
I walked out onto a tiny peninsula to see remains of an old fort. It wasn’t so much the destination that resonated with me, but rather the walk itself.
I spent a lot of time walking and sitting outside. I had days of purely thinking and examining my practice from a different point of view, literally! I made a group of sketches and kept a written record of each day.
I didn’t unpack the art bag until I had been home for around 2 weeks. I have started working from sketches done on Skye. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what is coming next. I am working on a slower approach, in many ways.
I can’t do that, sorry ?
Apart from the necessary clothes and general art materials, I took three objects of significance. My leather bag “the coolest bag in the world”, my anniversary edition Opinal knife and my watercolour tin – it’s around 35 years old I think. It was quite liberating to have very little else in the way of important possessions there.
I left some of my postcards behind, and a poster of my recent solo show.