River Tweed, Scottish Borders – Hard Pastels
Just another “sketch type” scene similar to recent ones
River Tweed, Scottish Borders – Hard Pastels
Just another “sketch type” scene similar to recent ones
Ruined Cottages – Pastel and Charcoal
This uses the same techniques as described in my previous post with some exceptions. The variations in tone were obtained by watering the “slurry”pastel mix with different amounts of water or by overworking with a glaze of the same density of mix. The last stage is handy towards the end of a section – such as a wall, as going over the whole area, with a thin dark coat, seems to tie all the bricks and stonework together. The white highlights were removed last using a small electric eraser which is great for pin-prick precision. You can see these down the side of the fence posts, on some of the stone walls and in the trees.
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This scene was captured during John’s visit to Scotland in January. The cottages, in question, are old farm buildings and lie at the foot of the Pentland Hills where we walked one sunny afternoon.
Platt Hill – Watercolour
We had more snow today so I thought that I would post this which shows the hill opposite my house. It was done a few weeks ago
St Kilda – Watercolour
This group of islands, known as St Kilda, lie 40 miles to the west of the main Outer Hebridean Island of North Uist. There are are a number of islands and sea stacks in this group, the four main ones are Soay – towards the rear left of this painting, Hirta – which is shown stretched across this page showing the “Village Bay” and Dun – the one in the front left. The other main island, Boreray, lies to the right of this painting and is not shown. I have never visited St Kilda – this is from a friend’s photograph, although a pilgrimage is at the top of my “Things to do before I die” list.
The island of Soay was home to a type of feral sheep whose origins can be traced back to Neolithic times. Boreray still has some ancestors of the Hebridean “Dunface” type which have become feral in their own right. Hirta contained the only inhabited part of the archipelago and the remains of stone built dwelling attract visitors and volunteer restoration workers each year. In 1930, the population became non-viable and the last 36 residents were evacuated to the mainland ending a unique way of life. Rare film exists showing the extraordinary skills of the islanders, rowing across to the other islands and scaling the sheer cliffs to harvest sea birds, a main part of the diet. Evidently these folks had no fear of heights.
The islands are considered to be of such great national importance that they have been awarded “Dual World Heritage Status for Unique Scottish Islands” (for natural and cultural qualities – 2004). The islands were inhabited for thousands of years and this is thought to have peaked around 180. The way of life was a true democracy with it own “parliament”. These days it is possible to visit although this is not easy. For those so inclined see:
After the storm, evening – Watercolour
The past week, in these parts, has seen terrific gale force winds accompanied by heavy rain. Some parts of Scotland experienced “gusts” of over 120mph. This is the view from North Berwick, late one evening, looking out to sea. North Berwick is about 20 miles to the east of Edinburgh along the coastline. Although the sea looks quite calm now, there was still quite a swell when I sketched this and the waves, braking on shore, were quite lively. In the background is the Bass Rock, over a mile away out in the Firth of Forth, a one-time prison colony for politically minded souls or Covenanters. These days, the only signs of habitation are the lighthouse and around 150,000 gannets making this the largest rock colony, for these birds, in the world. Special permission is needed to land on the rock but the habits of the birds can be monitored, by CCTV or telescope, from the Scottish Seabird Centre near North Berwick Harbour.
Its a good time to stand and watch the power of the sea. There is something quite memorising and soothing about the rhythm of the waves. I used to fish near here and often would forget about casting the line out, preferring just to stand and marvel at the might of the ocean. This area is where the Firth (estuary) of the River Forth joins the North sea and conditions are always changing making spectacular viewing for those interested in all things of a marine nature.
Towards the Farm Cottages – Watercolour
I photographed this scene a couple of weeks ago when there was plenty of snow lying. It shows the long track leading towards Ratho Mains Farm Cottages. These dwellings once housed the local farm workers but they are all privately owned now. They lie about half a mile to the south of our village and they are surrounded by fields. A peaceful place to stay but things must have been hard getting out for supplies during the hardest weather. As they do not lie on local roads there was no snow clearing and its taken until a few days ago for all of the snow to clear. Just in time for the next lot which might come in a few days.
Storm – Black ink in a Watercolour Moleskine
Scotland was hit by a ferocious storm yesterday which brought gusts up to 90mph and horizontal rain. Fortunately it was quite mild although it felt cold and, so, was a day to be spent indoors. This is the scene, from the top end of the street where I stay. It was impossible to see the Pentland Hills at times as things came in and out of focus. I decided to try using just one colour for this and black, always a “no!-no!” seemed to match the mood of the day. The winds increased by late afternoon – it was quite dark by 2,30pm. It reminded me of a biblical movie, say in the style of Cecil B DeMille. At time I half expected a plague of frogs or insects to descend upon us.
More winter damage – Watercolour
This is another view of the damaged tree I attempted to show in my recent post (Jan 31st). The tree, in that picture, is the one right in the centre of this effort and is the one with the tell-tale, horizontal branch – in this case heading towards the right. The conifer, which I talked about, is lying just beyond this tree and is half in and half out of the River Almond. It will have to be moved as it will trap floating debris as it sweeps down the river, causing even more damage. Its about 30feet tall so I’m glad I don’t have the job of clearing this up. A strange thing occurred as I painted this. I had great difficulty in depicting the fallen tree and had quite a few attempts and much lifting out of paint until I reached this stage. It was almost as if I was showing Almondell Park at, let’s say, “Not its best” and some forces were around to stop me doing this. Sounds daft but it was really weird. Hope I arrived at a happy compromise.
Winter Damage – Watercolour
A walk in Almondell Park last week revealed how hard the winter storms have been. This huge chestnut tree has always been one of my landmarks and I was saddened to see a huge part of it missing. The foresters had already removed the thick branch and all that was left was a pile of sawdust and, of course, this huge wound – about 6 feet long in this painting. A clue, as to why it had been damaged, might be to examine the part near the top of the wound. Its a large hole which one’s arm can get lost in and looks as if it has been there for many years. Perhaps an owl of some squirrels called this space “home” The tree itself had always looked impregnable to high winds and heavy snow. It actually looks as if it has screwed itself into the ground but I fear it is now in danger as the remaining, large lower limb (to the left) is now “out of balance” having lost the counterweight of the missing one. I have included, here, a photo of this tree in happier times and a sketch I made about 9 years ago which might give some idea how the tree used to be. This is not the only tree to suffer winter damage. The large conifer, next to this chestnut, is uprooted and is lying into the River Almond while the whole wood echoes to the sound of chainsaws. A bit sad really but I suppose its natures way of thinning things.
Going Home – Watercolour
How many of you like doing the weekly shopping? Me neither, but it is a necessary evil. Staying in a small village means we have to drive to the outskirts of Edinburgh to get sustenance for the coming days. This is the scene, as we returned home on Friday. I often look at the trees which line the main road and they were looking great, set against the failing light. This is copied from a photo taken as we approached the turn off to Ratho and, in case you wondered, I was not driving. We have an unwritten rule that whichever one of who paid the food bill gets to sit in the passenger seat, trembling at the realisation that we have just supported the economy – again!