I realised this morning that it’s almost exactly three years ago since I started this blog. At the time I was just trying to get back into making artwork and it was a bit of an experiment to see if it helped motivate me and  if it worked as a way of sharing images for feedback. It certainly did those things and a whole lot more, bringing me into contact with amazing artists and wonderful people from all over the world.

I wish I had a new piece to post today to mark the anniversary but I’m travelling most of this month with little more than a sketchbook so not much to show, just this noodling with an inkpen that I did lasts night:

This is a hedgerow from up in Lincolnshire near the hamlet of Culverthorpe. Looking back at those early posts and I see that they cover some themes that are still with me three years on; hedgerows, green men, mythology and the wild places. I think hedgerows in Britain at this time of year are the loveliest things, and they give our countryside a unique charm and beauty. My fondness for them is the reason I chose the title for the blog – and the crows? The crows are actually ravens, to be precise, Hugin and Munin, who fly around the world collecting news and then coming back to sit on Odin’s shoulder and tell him what’s going on. I though the blog would be a way of connecting with the world and gathering and sharing news in a similar way.

A few other recent experiments from the art table to make this post a bit of a miscellany. Firstly a couple of acrylic on paper paintings of a woodland clearing in the Grünewald in Berlin where I like to go and sunbathe in the summer:

The second photo shows some of the things that get taped to the shelves above my workspace to remind of things and fleeting ideas, and the pic also shows one of the little labels that are dotted around the flat to help with my German vocab!

And a quick collage of a chalice and Glastonbury Tor. The Holy Grail is one of the many myths surrounding this hill and I wanted to illustrate some of the stories:

Well, off to the French Pyrenees for 8 days, then in Paris for 8 days so i’ll try and post some sketches before not too long, au revoir!

I’ve posted before about my love of the islands off the British Coast and The Hebrides in particular after holidays I spent staying at a friend’s croft on Harris. One summer we were there and a meteor shower was due to pass over during the night so we went out to watch it in the luxurious dark that you get up there, well away from major sources of light pollution. It’s a magical place, although in the winter the Atlantic storms can be wild to say the least. But we were there in August, swimming in the sea diving for scallops, fishing in the Minch, that strait of water between Skye and the outer Hebrides, and visiting the spectacular beaches of golden sand on the west side of the island – happy memories!

Very difficult to photograph this one – time to get an A3 scanner I think!

This image includes quite a few of the things I remember fondly from the time I lived down on the Kent coast a few years ago; the beautiful dusty-yellow horned poppies growing in the shingle, the sandpipers flying along the beach, the changing moods of the sea and sky, and the weird landscape around Dungeness that we visited several times. Derek Jarman lived here and helped open people’s eyes to its strange beauty with his writing and books about the wonderful garden he created in the harsh, salty environment in the shingle by the sea.

I’ve framed the picture in the same frame as the Winter Night image –  I’m enjoying the format, so will probably do a series in the coming months:

Now to tidy up a bit, the drifts of paper are spreading, my work table is disappearing and I’ve annexed the dining table:

Back to the UK for two weeks tomorrow, then a holiday in France, so nothing but a sketchbook for a while. I’ll try and use the time to do some more drawing and take loads of pics for reference. I’m looking forward to the Pyrenees and I should come back with lots of new ideas 🙂

Ok, I know it’s a bit odd painting pictures of snowflakes and holly just when Spring is really springing, but as I’ve got an exhibition this December, and as the show is going to be midwinter-themed, I have to keep my hand in with this kind of thing. Actually, some friends have just been up in the Scottish highlands recently where there was still snow on the ground so it’s not totally out of place.

The barn owl is a creature I love very much. They continue to hunt throughout the winter so I thought I’d put one in, although this one has noticed the first few flakes of snow starting to drift down and has taken flight with a bit of a ‘bugger this, I’m off attitude’. On a more serious note, I do know several people who have told me that they’d had an unusually close encounter with a barn owl shortly after the death of a loved one. They are certainly birds with a lot of folklore attached to them, which is hardly surprising given their silent and ghostly appearance at twilight.

Trying out some shop-bought frames too. Framing is expensive, even more so here in Germany for some reason, but these frames the art shop look fine I think and are about half the price of taking it to get framed professionally:

There are oak and lime trees planted along the street outside our flat and, as we are on the third floor, our living room window looks out onto the canopy of the trees. I’ve seen this Greater Spotted Woodpecker in the branches several times and It’s a lovely sight with it’s striking black, white and red plumage.

I’m experimenting with not sticking the collage elements down flat with this piece as I like the lively look of the curled edges although I’ve no idea how this approach will fare over time; will the paper just curl or crinkle up more, do I need to treat them in some way – any thoughts would be welcome! I’ve seen some deep frames that would allow for the more three dimensional format, and I like the look, just don’t know how durable it is.