A perhaps even more whimsical variation on the sky flowers theme. Here the reflections of roses in the water are more like roses than the clouds are. I was trying to capture that colour in the sky when blue is just starting to fade into yellow without being really green! As with most of this series, there is a dream-like quality to the vision.
(C) 2022 Hilary Farmer
A pleasant day in late March. The local buffleheads were out – that’s a kind of black and white duck. Plein air painting can be such a wonderful way to connect with the world. Looking at a painting I have done in nature always takes me right back to that moment.
Tom wrote a haiku for this painting celebrating spring …and buffleheads!
bufflehead breezes
wander down island narrows
ruffling spring waters
image (c) 2021 Hilary Farmer
poem (c) 2021 TJ Radcliffe
Early in September I went out with my gear and found another local beauty spot. It was really hot that day! I was glad to find a bit of shade to set up in. The challenge as usual with plein air painting was to catch the light quickly – as well as the colour of the water and the shapes and locations of the clouds before everything changes. The result is less detailed but fresher and more dynamic than working from a photo.
Here is Tom’s poem which at first seems to be for another scene but wait for it – the final couplet tells the tale.
In summer gales these waters roil
as wind and tide and waves contend
for who shall make the sailor’s toil
the worst. And who shall best unmend
the flapping canvas, spliced up rope,
a bimini not made to cope
with gusts that come from angles all
around the compass. Masts might fall
as waves come in from every point.
The bow is bounced, the stern is slewed,
the sky with clouds ascudding’s strewed
as the sea tests every joint.
But in the calm it lies serene
as if those storms were never seen!
image (c) 2020 Hilary Farmer
poem (c) 2020 TJ Radcliffe
This is a plein air painting from August. The sun was high and warm reflecting back all kinds of glorious colours in the water. I captured a couple of sailboats at anchor as well as a few floating markers. The mountains of the mainland are in the distance. I have a lovely memory of the day when I look at this.
Tom wrote a thoughtful poem that speaks of times long gone the results of which still impact us today.
Upon a time a Spaniard passed this way
anchoring and sending out a brace of boats to sound
the waters all around the quiet bay
where otter, seals, and cod could still be found.
The shore was all alive with other eyes
that watched the strange great ships and wondered where
they had first tasted of sea. What skies
had witnessed their emergence from their lair?
Dark ravens cocked and turned upon the wind
Dark rhymes were brewing in the human heart
Dark beneath the summer sky the sins
of darkness drove the worlds apart.
The ships sailed on, left chaos in their wake
and broken words that promises forsake.
image (c) 2020 Hilary Farmer
poem (c) 2020 TJ Radcliffe
Had the wonderful opportunity to visit the far western edge of this country recently – that is the west coast of Vancouver Island with its incredible Long Beach, charming Tofino, and amazing sunsets! We stayed at Middle Beach Lodge which was lovely. This painting was from a view along the path from the lodge to Tofino …and yes, the wild roses were blooming. The scent of the sea and rich undergrowth of the enormous cedars was a heady combination.
Here is Tom’s wonderful poetic take on this time and place.
Somewhere in the vasty distance
out across the endless sea
moving waves meet wind’s resistance
turning toward us, you and me
who stand upon this western shore
having all and wanting more
while the waves eternal kiss
sand and stone in sunlit bliss
beneath the summer flowers in bloom
whose wafting scent illuminates
our memories in days that wait
for all our yesterdays atuned
to this present joyful place
awash with waves that leave no trace.
image (c) 2018 Hilary Farmer
poem (c) 2018 TJ Radcliffe
It has been a long time since I posted anything. I haven’t been doing much digital doodling but I have been creating some studies for a painting course I started a couple of weeks ago. The course is called “Illustrative Painting” and so I am trying to establish a narrative of sorts. I have in my mind that the voyage is a metaphor for journeying into the future or even an internal journey of the mind. On describing this concept, Tom sent me this poem – within two hours!! There’s even a short version and a long version…
Elegy for a Future (short version)
The water’s kiss is soft against the blade
that cuts a careworn future from the past;
irrevocable, now the choice is made
to cross the Rubicon and finally cast
a glance ahead: there awaits the shore,
warm coastal waters leading ever on
toward mystery and landscapes to explore
beneath the golden light of other dawns.
Elegy for a Future (long version)
The water’s kiss is soft against the blade
that cuts a careworn future from the past;
irrevocable, now the choice is made
to cross the Rubicon and finally cast
a course into the beckoning unknown
where distant shores, intriguing inlets, wait
for a bold explorer, all alone,
in search of other futures, taunting Fate
while mourning for a life that might have been
in another universe and time,
a different incarnation in between
Tartarus and Nirvana’s distant climes.
That perfect future lies unsullied now
by compromises, awkwardness and pain;
in memory, reclining ‘neath a bough
sipping on a julep with a swain:
an ideal match in all respects, and fair,
in the heaven where such spirits dwell
beyond the reach of merely worldly cares
for heaven means there is no chance of hell.
But now ahead there awaits the shore,
warm coastal waters leading ever on
toward mystery and landscapes to explore
beneath the golden light of other dawns.
There is no destined end or certain truth
that’s final, fixed, unchanging: all that lives
will wend its way toward age from simple youth;
though much is taken, there’s still much to give
unto the years of life that lie ahead
upon this journey toward the Happy Isles,
letting go of Clotho’s tangled thread
and facing toward new futures with a smile.
poetry (c) 2013 TJ Radcliffe
The image of “letting go of Clotho’s tangled thread” in the last stanza caught my imagination – Clotho being one of the Fates in charge of weaving human lives. After I read that I did some more quick sketching.
Now the figure is at the moment of departure – just about to let go of the rope. There are more ropes heaped up on the dock – the “tangled threads”. Then I went to the next class and produced the following two studies (among others) – the second shows the teacher’s (Charles Vinh) input – turning the figure towards the viewer.
The ink sketch was done during class before discussing the figure position with the teacher. I added some colour later at home.
Here I am trying to establish an interesting balance between tones in the painting, drawing the eye towards the figure.
The next step is to consider the figure in detail with lighting, clothing etc. Next post!
sketches (cc) 2013 Hilary Farmer
reflected mountain
green dragon ripples over
cloud-flecked blue water
This doodle is not a portrait of the Bay… more just a feeling… an impression , one could say 🙂 I visited this beautiful place in Quebec last weekend with friends.
Today I am experimenting with blogging directly from my iPad mini… hence the short text.
UPDATE: Haiku from Tom. See above!
Haiku (c) 2013 TJ Radcliffe
(cc) 2013 Hilary Farmer
At about the same time as Marlowe (last post) is contemplating his problems, Dru is somewhere else with problems of her own. I thought it was about time I showed our heroine… Decided to just show a suggestion of the background. I hope you can tell she’s on a ship.
UPDATE: In from Tom – new poem!
It seemed like such a fine idea
to cut the cable, setting free
this ship of fools, like wise Sophia
teaching him a lesson, see!
The deed is done, though now I wonder
if in my haste to steal his thunder
by leaving him marooned alone
I’m not mistaken in my tone?
Perhaps if I’d been less reproaching,
not let his people’s ways be mine–
though in my anger it seemed fine–
I wouldn’t now these doubts be broaching.
Now what’s that bumping on the hull!?
A bear, a duck, a wayward gull?
Copyright (C) 2012 TJ Radcliffe
image (cc) 2012 Hilary Farmer
Is that how you spell rarrhh?? hmmm
I have been doing a lot of drawing for Songs of Albion so when I decided to do a quick random doodle for the blog, it turned out to be an Albion character – Rothgar the seabear and oracle! We are trying to keep a reasonable buffer so what I am currently drawing won’t be seen on Albion for a couple months – we’ll see how long we can keep this up! All that to say, you may have to wait a bit for more scenes with Rothgar…
UPDATE:I love this new poem from Tom! Check out the original TS Eliot – The Hollow Men – out if you’re not familiar. I especially like Rothgar’s take on the final line! (and it answers the question of the spelling – there’s just one h in rarrh lol)
I am the hollow bear
Whispering of secrets
Waves without waving
Force without motion
My voice alone speaks
Deep the world’s singing
In the name of the wind
This is the living sea
This is the green water
Here the wave’s portraits
Self-painted on sand
Are raised, here they recede
Under the shining sun
I walk alone
Through evening dew and morning mist
Across the sand, across the stone
This is the vision
This healing balm of mystery
What cannot be riven
The knowledge from the knower
Between the act
and the fact
Between the wolf
and the pack
Falls the Shadow
This is the way the world begins
This is the way the world begins
This is the way the world begins
Not with a Bang but a RARRH!
(c) Tom Radcliffe
image (cc) 2011 Hilary Farmer
I just prepared this drawing for Songs of Albion but thought it would be nice for my blog too! Trying to create a certain kind of atmosphere is sometimes easier in black and white – or actually in this case, shades of grey.
I just saw the new comic for ExtraOrdinary – also in shades or grey. It’s very cool – make sure you move your mouse over the picture for some neat effects!
UPDATE: Thanks to Tom for this lovely evocative sonnet to accompany my image.
Charcoal twilight shadows sketched upon
the canvas sky illume a private tryst
between the silent hour before the Dawn
and the Dusk that lurks behind the mist
at day’s long close. A silent hawk swoops by
while Dusk and Dawn exchange a midnight word
beneath the Northern Summer’s peaceful sky,
a fleeting touch that’s been so long deferred.
They speak the tongues of twilight, voices soft
for sharing secrets commonplace and rare:
just where the Night goes hiding when the waft
of Summer comes to rule the Arctic air.
And when at last they’re parted by the Night
They know they’ll meet again by Austral light.
Copyright (C) 2011 TJ Radcliffe
image (cc) 2011 Hilary Farmer
Green Tea Doodles 