My practice has always revolved around themes of landscape, nature and place. A desire to better know and understand the world around me.
Over time these explorations have moved and developed, from detailed interpretations of maps and geology, to a profound enquiry into our sense of belonging and connection. There is however a strong thread which continues to run through these thoughts for me, the idea that by learning about, understanding and building connections with the natural world, and with each other, we foster a stronger desire to care for and protect it. Until recently this was viewed from the context of living in an urban environment I felt little belonging or connection to, therefore it was a deep, perhaps melancholic, longing that was the driver to these thoughts and that was often present in my work. This is exquisitely described by author Rebecca Solnit in her book ‘A Field Guide To Getting Lost’ where she talks of - “the colour of solitude and desire, the colour of there seen from here, the colour of where you are not” and that “Blue is the colour of longing”.
In February 2022 I travelled to Cove Park, positioned on a west coast hillside overlooking Loch Long, for an artist’s residency. This time allowed me to connect deeply with the environment, the design of the building providing an almost invisible delineation between outside and in. I lived and worked with the rhythms of nature, feeling intensely in tune with the shifts in light, weather and movement of the water. A somewhat unexpected, but very welcome, element of this experience was the community and interconnectedness I felt with my fellow residents. This feeling of ease, the sharing of ideas, time, food and materials, with a group of like minded people, brought my perception of what it means to feel like I belong to the front of my mind and into my paintings.
Later that year, in the depths of winter, we boarded a ferry to our new home on the Isle of Bute. However, rather than the stereotypical Scottish island dream escape so often portrayed, for us this move was somewhat of a compromise. We had dreamed of a remote bothy in the far reaches of a rugged landscape, but how achievable or even realistic is that style of living for most people? I now question if this really was the dream anyway - a place of complete solitude and remoteness? Bute was the most realistic version of our dream, still close enough to our family but somewhere which we felt had the potential to provide some of what we were searching for. What I have found here is so much more that I could have imagined. As I sit at my kitchen table looking out of the window across the whole of the town to the hills beyond, I realise that my time on residency at Cove Park was almost a prologue to this move, a moment which showed me what is important.
My relationship with the sea since being here, and following my work over the past few years to overcome my childhood fear, has grown exponentially. Spending time in, on or around the water has become a huge part of each day and developing my understanding of the sea has in turn deepened my connection to it as a living body. Learning how to read the water, kayaking around the coast, snorkelling in the shallows, feeling the water cradle my body as I swim. I’ve walked miles and miles around, across, up and down the island. I’ve seen three seasons, so far, and noticed even tiny changes in the colours, textures, sounds and smells. I’ve learned about the wildlife, sat still as an otter scampered across the rocks, listened for the blackbirds and tawny owls, floated above hermit crabs tussling over empty shells and watched transfixed as gannets elegantly plunged into the water like gleaming white arrows. This is where I believe a sense of belonging can be found and is something I’ve read about countless times in the writing of Rebecca Solnit, Mary Oliver, Nan Shepherd and Amanda Thomson, to name but a few - by taking time to really notice and pay attention to the world around us, we build deep relationships with it and care about it’s future. Alongside these deepening connections to nature, I have found an equally nourishing connection to my community here. An inspiring group of people who have embraced, nurtured and held me, and from whom I learn and grow.
Perhaps a sense of belonging is in fact something within yourself, which can be carried around, and is not necessarily tied to one geographical place. Maybe it’s a moment in your life when all the streams of your being flow together and make you feel whole.
You can visit the exhibition at Tighnabruaich Gallery, Seaside House, Tighnabruaich PA21 2DR 11am - 3pm every day except Tuesdays or you can view it online on the gallery website
‘A sea of memories’ 1 - 10, mixed media on paper, 21 x 21cm