My favourite uncle coined the name, not to be mean, but simply to describe what he saw in front of him – a little girl who regularly failed to comprehend the bleedin’ obvious. It was an affectionate nickname that also happened to be true, and now and then, continues to be so. Case in point, this week it finally dawned on me that if I want to paint bigger, I’ve got to draw bigger. Instead of doing this, I’ve been scratching out wee drawings in my wee sketchbook, hoping that when it comes time to paint on a big canvas I’ll magically be able to paint bigger.
Armed with this realisation, I gessoed (applied base paint that makes it easier to draw on) some A4 sheets of paper this morning, and rather than squishing multiple things onto a small page in my sketch book, I drew one thing on one sheet of paper. Currently, I am drawing hares, and I’m pleased to say, that drawing them 4 sizes bigger was no trouble at all.
I also decided to apply the same reasoning to the painting experiments. However, instead of painting a whole picture on big pieces of paper, I thought I would concentrate on painting particular elements on medium-ish pieces of paper (such as the eye below). The hope is to get better at the individual elements and eventually start piecing them together on ever bigger canvases. The great thing about drawing and painting larger things is, you can add more detail.
The weather on the Isle of Man this past week has been absolutely glorious, which has made being at Anam Cara nothing short of heavenly. My fella and I have been taking long evening walks to the Point of Ayre lighthouse, naming all the landmarks on the way, such as:
- Speckled-ridge Highway (the pebbly beach leading to the lighthouse).
- Smugglers Cove (a suspiciously abandoned jerrycan and buoy near the cliff edge).
- Last Chance Rise (the last place you can leave the beach and ascend the cliff to the lighthouse).
- Lovers Lookout (a discarded set on concrete steps that lead nowhere but provide a glorious vista looking back to the hills surrounding Ramsey).
- Little Rock Cafe (a patch of ground between the heather that is scattered with little pebbles)
- The Corryvreckan (a spiral like feature in the landscape that you have to circumnavigate, named after the Corryvreckan whirlpool off the west coast of Scotland, which, incidentally, George Orwell nearly drowned in 3 months before he finished 1984).
- The Devil’s Garage (an abandoned concrete structure that looks like a car mechanic’s pit).
- The Badlands (a wide, barren area with no vegetation but plenty of donut marks, of the car-wheel variety).
There’s other features too, but those are the main ones (or at least the ones I can remember). Naming them has made the walk a lot of fun, and it also makes me feel safer when I do the walk on my own, because if I come-a-croppa, I’ll be able to call my fella and he’ll know exactly where to find me. Though I don’t suppose telling emergency services that I’ve taken a tumble at the Devil’s Garage, between the Corryvreckan and the Badlands is going to be very helpful.
Walking in the Ayres is very inspiring, and I always have lots of painting ideas (most of which outstrip my current abilities, but I’m working on it). Having the walk right on my doorstep is, apart from meeting my fella, the most fortunate thing ever to happen to me.
bexODESSA 