North Pennine Gallery

There were too many distractions this year to focus fully on North Pennine Gallery. I’ve stepped in once or twice, but lack of time on the hills meant I was short of material and preoccupied with other projects.

At the age of 51, I graduated from University as a qualified teacher. I’m now fortunate to offer my services to schools and colleges but who wants a 51-year-old teacher when many schools have reduced art as a secondary subject with only one lesson every two weeks. The priority of this government and ministers to make all our children scientists and mathematicians has created an education system based on an ideology of state controlled curriculum, void of creativity and the arts. However, this isn’t the fault of schools, more the privileged who run the country.Thankfully there are still some schools out there which see the arts as a fundamental part of a rounded education, were there is still place for creative thinking and expression.

A sketch from the North Pennines- where my heart is.

Happy Christmas

Old footpath

Busy lives strive to abandon the spirit from places we carry with us. The day-time window beckons the soul, while the fingers tap and the pen push, the mind is wondering lonely fells giving birth to infant streams. The hunger for solitude searches for intimate landscapes becoming intimate places within our hearts. While alone we miss the company of others, in the landscape a journey out becomes a journey in. Office days become wasted years as the trappings of modern life fade the memory of an old footpath walked long ago by a younger man.

Girl in the winter hat

I’ve been busy with my sketch book encouraging my loyal group of dedicated learners to sketch as often as they can. I firmly believe the best way to learn about drawing is to draw. Read as many books, watch as many videos as you wish, the learning is in the participation and I believe I’m speaking from experience. For many years I allowed my interest to waver. It’s only the past six  years I’ve picked the pencil and brush up again.

I’ve also had the benefit of some good friend’s blogs and websites who’ve encouraged me along the way. Barry Coombs. Leslie White, Carol King, Amber, Val ,Patricia and to everyone else who I’ve failed to mention, but who’s taken the time to like or commented.

 

Stay warm

Keith

North Pennines

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.

Postcards from the North Pennines

2011 North Pennine sketchbook

More postcards from the North Pennines. My long distrust of old, empty barns continues with this fellow. Probably no more than a few hundred years old, but still spooky enough to keep this sketcher firmly on the outside. I’ve also been up to some of my old tricks, sketching without first seeking approval and also chasing sheep. I’m going to get a name one of these days.

Goldfinch in the cherry

Goldfinches in the cherry

Throughout the course of the week, the garden’s cherry tree has become the local diner to our resident goldfinch population. On Sunday, I changed the mix on feeders, 1, 3 and 4 using the RSPB’s ‘Premium Feeder Mix’. It’s not cheap (pardon the pun), but the results have been nothing short of astonishing!

We’ve enjoyed visits in the past but nothing on this scale. Today we had 8 goldfinches, hanging from the branches like Christmas decorations! My camera’s zoom lens is only a modest, so I couldn’t get close enough without spooking them from their perch. Each time they would fly out the branches clapping their wings almost in applause.

So I decided to create a composition from the better pictures. Using Photoshop, I reduced the size of the birds in the background and changed the direction so they all faced the same way. I then printed the finished montage and produced this sketch. On the down side, I could have sworn I saw a sparrowhawk this afternoon.

 

Cronkley Fell

Cronkley Fell

I’ve already planned my Boxing Day abdication! The requisite…  a remote area void of parties and merriment. Lonely yet friendly in much the same way two friends enjoy each other’s company yet share few words. I’ll pack my rucksack and head for the shoulders of the North Pennines by way of Cronkley Fell. I’ll meet no other walker. The route to the summit will pass an old Shepard’s shelter, a railway carriage, battered by storms yet clinging on.

I’ll take my rest with a view down to the river Tees, watching clouds build over Widdybank. When the wind-chill becomes too much, I climb down Main Gate towards the river, following its course to High Force before heading back to Hanging Shaw where the car will waiting. Short, cold but filling me with warmth that will last the festive.

Teesdale Pub

Warm winter pub

There’s been a distinct lack of people in my work of late, since becoming so intent with capturing the last days of autumn. November’s snow is one of the earliest on records, and to think we still had snow back in April makes me shiver. I delved way back into the archives to capture a winter image free of the white stuff.

This picture speaks for itself. Cosy warm pub filled with idle gossip. Remember when smoking was allowed in the pub? I’m always trying to capture a little of Norman Cornish in my life studies, looking for everyday people going about nothing much.

I really like the way this gents trousers ride high above his belt.

Again, small details observed and banked.