Newcastle’s quayside – Christmas Eve 2011

Today was my first official (self employed) day back at work, the children’s holidays extending slightly longer than usual, I decided to take a few extra days, now it all seems like a distant memory. For those who ‘suffer’ my blog, you will know I’m definitely not a winter person. Suffering from SAD, I push through until the door is closed on February. Yet the festive season had it’s moments, a simple Christmas Eve stroll through Newcastle’s quayside being one of them.

Edinburgh Royal Mile-New Year’s Eve 2011

I’ve posted another image from my Edinburgh sketch book produced whilst on holiday over New Year. This view is up the Royal Mile towards the castle. Very busy and pretty.

Grassmarket Edinburgh New Year’s Eve 2011

We spent Christmas at home this year but travelled to Edinburgh, Scotland for New Year’s Eve with the children. No snow for a change, but we suffered some of the worst gales in nearly 15 years with wind speeds of up to 102mph in Edinburgh. The journey home was dreadful. Made a few sketches from our visit and took lots of photos. Happy New Year to all my friends and followers.

Durham Dales

It seems only yesterday we were picking our way through the Durham Dales on a wild forage, hedges were heavy with plump fruit, blackberries our favourite, the children’s faces red with the eating. Here in our village the trees are almost bare of leaves, fun for the children while walking to school, but my mind is trapped in the last days of September. The fields seem to expand when the trees become bare. I put the jigsaw of spring and summer memories together, yet the picture remains less complete than the previous year. We seem to work harder with less time to spare. I remember the female hen harrier in early summer, gliding over the Tees in search of young grouse. I can still see the reflections in the pool of White Well on the barren roof of Cronkley Fell in Upper Teesdale. I hear the Helm Wind on Cross Fell and remember how we disappeared in the mist. Even during those few fortunate days spent in the wild places, you know it will be sometime until you come this way again. We visited Kilnsey Show in Wharefdale, North Yorkshire, during the summer and the weathered, crimson faces of men watching sheep brings a lasting memory of another summer that passed me by.

Summerhill Force-Teesdale

Being another year older, I decided to embark upon another project to add to my growing list of unfinished work. Between, work, children/family, rugby, farmers’ markets, college and writing my book, I’ve tried to bridge an unfulfilled ambition to paint a large acrylic of Summerhill Force in Teesdale. I’ve made a few preliminary sketches in pencil and coloured pencil. I produced a few small watercolours last year, but I need to get the big canvas done to satisfy the thing that lives inside my head.

North Pennine Swaledales

First free Sunday in ages, and my youngest son was involved in a rugby festival, so no walking again in October. I produced this sketch using acrylic inks on an acrylic pad which don’t buckle or bend when you apply the medium. It also takes pencil really well.

Next week I’m looking for a window to walk

People who come to parties

Autumn is here. Work has kept me firmly indoors away from the hills. I’m the ‘bear’ again made worse by those who enjoy people in office parties. I don’t do either very well and I’m brooding for sheep and peat. I also have some catching up to do on friends posts.

I promise to post a real painting soon.

Walkers on Cross Fell

A few more sketches from our recent traverse over Cross Fell and Great Dun Fell in the North Pennines. I think ‘Dun’ also means ‘brown’ so Great Brown Fell could pass. I produced many sketches from photographs taken during the day. I stitched a few together trying to bring some human element to the climb. I miss the mountain more than the people. No offence folks.

Knock North pennines

Last weekend whilst driving through the village of Knock high in the North Pennines, we found ourselves suddenly ambushed by a flock of Swaledales. They looked equally as startled and for a brief moment we stared at one another.  I reached for my mobile and quickly took an out of focus picture. I’ve tried sketching the image and painting but the mood is lost. The humble upload from my phone has far more atmosphere hanging in the early morning air. Work in progress and a large acrylic on the agenda.

Cross Fell- North Pennines

After a walk in the North Pennines, something strange seems to follow, a connection which remains with you for days – an emptiness or longing not unlike the feeling you have when you miss someone you love. The landscape seems to heal your mind, troubles disperse and the mysterious relationship between man and the land brings peace.

Often I’ve been aware of this feeling, none more so than my recent walk over Cross Fell, the highest point in the North Pennines at 2,930 feet, the highest and broadest piece of land in England.

The wilderness seems to filter through your body and you can’t rid the feeling nor wish. I spend days looking at my photographs, transfixed as though something is calling me back. The hold upon you is almost disturbing. Putting my feelings, (which I don’t understand) into words, is very difficult. Val can often be found trying to make sense of feelings and thoughts.

I’m still carrying the views and sounds in my mind, I’m certain if you put your ear to my head you’d hear the Helm Wind. Both inspiration and devotion I’ll never tire of the clouds and shadows racing across the burnt sienna and yellow ochare hills. There are moments when the mist descends its cloak, only for the wind to tear holes through the cloud revealing the nature reserve on one side and the equally stunning Eden Valley to the other.

While walking, we found the source of the great river Tees. A humble, gurgling spring emerging from rocks. Further down the valley the Tees becomes one of the most beautiful rivers in the British Isles with centuries of history along its banks.

Mines also splinter the landscape reminding us how difficult life must have been for people in the past. Loppyside Mine, Swathbeck Mine, Hunter’s Vein Mine are all names which sit between the contours of the map.

If any of you reading this feel a similar connection with a landscape I’d be interested in hearing from you.