'Vigil' (the music)

I am now working with Ed on my project 'Vigil' and it's such a pleasure! The impetus for this new work was thinking about how Christ, in his suffering during the watching in the Garden of Gethsemane, reaches out to all those today who keep vigil in various ways, awaiting news of loved ones missing from home or serving in the Armed Forces abroad, or who watch by the bedside of a suffering relative or friend.
Arts Council Wales have awarded me funding to develop the musical element of the planned installation and professional singers will perform something I have written for the first time! This is my melody which Ed has harmonised in the style of the Russian Orthodox. The full installation is planned to include textile hangings, mirrors, music and accompanying book.

This Saturday, all being well, we are due to record the piece in St Chad's Cathedral and I'm ever so excited! To have the award of the funding is such an endorsement of my work and such an encouragement for me and it's great working with Ed  -  I'm so grateful!

More info about the installation and about Ed and his music can be seen on my website.

Hopefully, next time I return, a recording will exist!

Snowy interlude

We have had so much rain lately, though we have not suffered nearly as much as some have, that it was lovely to look out the other day and see the mountain slopes garmented in snow. I have been captivated since childhood by the sheer beauty of snow, how it transforms surfaces wherever it falls, how light sparkles and gleams on it, the muffled quiet of sounds in its muted atmosphere and the colours of shadows on its pristine surface.

I can never resist sketching and stitching it, so now include a fragment in progress, one of the nature-based pieces I am working on at present. I like to work on different pieces concurrently and, as at present, often run more figurative and abstract works alongside one another. This stitched piece photographed has become even 'snowier' as it has evolved and I am also working on a new installation 'Vigil', involving abstract pieces and music  -  more about this in my next blog, coming very soon!

Poetically speaking

When I looked out on Sunday morning, the hillside seemed mournfully quiet, sad in sunless colours. I lit a candle to bring a little warmth and light into the room and wrote down a few words. Today, I looked again at those words and set them down like this :-

                         Silent slopes sit,
                                                   dark with a
                         grey foreboding,
                                              sunless,
                           still,
                                      waiting for the next
                                storm to
                                                unleash its
                                  f       r       
                                       y
                          u 

                           sodden ground
                                                     plays in
                                           no dancing shadows    -


                          quiet tension of
                                                     the                     space
                                                              between      -

                           invasions of water
                                                               p  o  u   r         in

                                                                       p a t  h    s
                            multiplied by  days and
                                                                     nights    of
                                      dr e n  ch  ing
                                                                  un  -  cea  -  sing
                                                           r  a  I   n

                             a  n  gry     BLASTS   of   

                                                                       W i N D  s

                             s h ak  e         homes

                                                                    cr   ack   trunks
                                                     like twigs   -

                               fragile beauty    to  ss ed   aside
                                                                                  and mourned;


                                 we seem    trapped,
                                                                   not in a Narnian wonderLand
                                        white with ice and snow    but 

                            peer toward remembered  hillsides
                                                  l o s t   in veil  after   veil   of
                                                                           unending     w e t ne ss;
                                                                              
                               until today;
                                                       now   fresh snow  g lea  ms
                                      on  slopes       in
                                                    sudden      br  u  sh  -  stroke
                                                                                                 of
                                                                      pale sun    - 

     brief     in- ter-lude    of  calm      -

                        then  clouds    s  l in  g      icy     pellets

                                                         hail   against    windows,

                                        a      r u s h    of     wind    in
                                                                              the colder air;


                                           we wait for what
                                                                              may come.


                         
                                                             
                                       
                                   
                                               


                                                                    

New year begins

It has been a dramatic end of the year for Aberystwyth, the seafront and prom so devastated by the storms and spectacular tides! I was here at home in Dolgellau when most of this happened. We lost our lovely pear tree when it was broken in the high winds but some of the trunk and branches remain, so we're hoping very much that these might continue to survive and grow. Also broken away were several pretty trellises along the back fence and although this damage might seem minor compared with the seafront and other parts of the country, we're still sad because the tree had grown so well and was so pretty!

Artwise, I'm so excited because I've been awarded Arts Council funding for the first part of 'Vigil'  and I've just begun working on it. I'll be meeting now with Ed to hear his first take on the music  -  more on this and the project generally next time! It was also great to have two pieces selected for the Gas Gallery Open in Aberystwyth in December  -  very fortunate in being able to go in for this, as my university studio made me eligible as working, at least some of the time, in Ceredigion!

This image, 'Swirl of Bright Water', shows one of the pieces selected.

 

I have also included a couple of pictures of Aber seafront before the storms and high tides hit.

 

 

 

 

The prom on a lovely afternoon this autumn.

 

 

 

Years ago, in my undergraduate days at Aber, I stayed for a while on the seafront in Alexandra Hall Annexe, in a super room right at the top of the building.  Now I walk along the prom (well, trundle in the wheelchair!) and look up at where I used to be, that is, I did until just the other week! It was so exciting living there, when the tide was running high, if my door wasn't locked, it would open and close when a large wave broke against the seawall and small pebbles would be tossed right over the roof to scuffle down over the tiles! Of course, this was the excitement without the damage, which is so sad and such a shame  -  hopefully the council will be given enough money to have the necessary repairs done.

My daughter took the following photo of me from my collection of slides from the 70s and got it onto computer, so I include it for fun! It was taken during my undergraduate days while I was on my year abroad in Italy. The time of year is early springtime, 1974, and I was visiting the Tuscan hills near a little town called Rocca San Casciano. I used to love knitting back then, mostly jumpers and cardis, and this pink jumper is one of my creations. As the image shows, seventies' flower-power had not passed me by!

 

What a strange thing time is, in some ways this seems as if it is a photo of someone else, in another lifetime; in other ways, I'm still the person looking out of this picture; I still love art and music and poetry, still have my dreams  -  perhaps foolishly! Life has also brought me many riches I had never dreamed could be possible  -  nothing whatsoever to do with finances! I feel even more aware now of how short life is, of how time races by. On several occasions, I have faced mortal dangers and survived but there will be an end, that is only natural and the separation from loved ones will be the hardest thing. The date and time for this mortal chapter to finish are, of course, known only to God and that's fine by me. My deepest prayer is that it will be my time to go and Juls and Ed will still have many years of joy-filled, fulfilling lives. How many of these I may see is not up to me to say, I just treasure every second of knowing how they are, how they're doing, and hope to be given strength to finish a little more before I go. And who will go first, me? Arthur?  -  something to be acknowledged now and faced only when it comes.

 

Our poor pear tree has faced its mortality and we don't know whether the part that is left will still grow. The following images show the garden with the broken pear tree lying on the grassy ground and the gap in the corner which the tree's lovely branches used to fill  -  the back fence is also without the trellises. But we have been lucky, no terrible floods pouring in and ruining the house!

 

 

 

 

 

Until the next time!

 

 

Happy Christmas!

Weather outside sounds atrocious but Christmas is nearly here, so safe journey to all travelling in the next few days and a Very Happy Christmas and Joy in the coming year to all!

 

Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda!

Poetics and winter

I have been spending time floating on the lake of music and imagination and wandering in the meads of poetry  -  all will be revealed 'but not yet', as the phrase was spoken in 'Gladiator'!

Meanwhile, winter has arrived with cold and snow on the tops of the hills. The woolly cardis have once more taken up residence in the wardrobe (when not upon my person!) and the remaining lighter clothes put away until the return of spring. I feel so sorry for the little birds when the temperature drops and wonder how they survive.

                   Below is one of my pictures of blue tits feeding on nuts in the garden.

 

 

A great tit arrives to tackle a fat ball.

 

 

 

 

The blue tits like these, too!

 

 

 

                                    Another frequent visitor comes for some favourite food!

 

 

                                          

 

 

 

Back again!

My poor little blog had died a bit of a death but I will now try to resurrect it!

Very exciting for me is that I have now begun my part-time PhD in Fine Art at Aberystwyth University. As well as this exciting development in my life, I now have three solo exhibitions lined up  -  amazing! The first will be in the Cloisters Gallery, St Davids Cathedral, March 2014  -  both Arthur and I are looking forward to being back there again  -  the second will be in  Oriel Ysbyty Gwynedd, Bangor, April - June 2014 and the third from 10th January  -  22nd February 2015 in MOMA Wales Machynlleth.

I have always believed in art in hospitals, so it is really good to be exhibiting in Bangor Hospital next spring and I am very excited about the forthcoming solo in MOMA. Lucinda, MOMA's new curator, is really nice to speak to and I'm looking forward to working with her on the exhibition  -  she is very keen on my idea for it  -  there will be sound as well as visuals and Miranda thinks it could also form part of my PhD, which would be great.

 

This image is 'In the Garden, Secretly', the one which was Highly Commended in this year's Open Exhibition in MOMA in the summer, when the theme was 'The Garden, Yr Ardd'  -  my take on the Garden of Eden!