I have a few other paintings that were done earlier, but I wanted to share this one right away since Tom’s poem made me think of Remembrance Day recently past. When I painted it, I was enjoying the form, colour and texture …but I appreciate that Tom sees things in my paintings that give another layer to them, a whole other life.
The heather’s deep, my bonny lass,
where horses haven’t trampled down
the sturdy men and brittle grass
this day when all our sorrows drown
and somewhere pipes are calling still
across the glen and through the hills
to bring us back from wrack and war
which we will study no’ the more.
We do not answer, rise, nor march
to follow down the piper’s call
for we will feast in other halls
beneath the sky’s eternal arch.
Above us still the thistle grows
Our prickly, coarse, and perfect rose.
Another random doodle today. Something about this pictures makes me think of Scotland… maybe she’s gazing after her highland chief… although in the poem which comes to mind, everything ends rather badly for all concerned. For some reason, the only verse I remember is the second last of fourteen.
‘Come back! Come back!’ he cried in grief,
‘Across this stormy water;
And I’ll forgive your Highland chief,
My daughter!- oh, my daughter!’
Just to be clear, this isn’t meant to be an illustration for the poem – it’s just not stormy enough! Maybe it’s the day before… and why is she wearing a Fair Isle sweater? That must be an anachronism lol!