oak – Dreaming In Stitches

Slow Art In Action…

Growing a tree…

Once upon a time there was a woman who was fascinated by trees. She went out almost every day taking photos of them, and when she wasn’t snapping pictures, she’d be gazing at trees, and occasionally talking to them…

It just happens that the same woman is an obsessive stitcher (yes, it’s me – you guessed).

So she decided – not for the first time – to grow one in stitches.

She didn’t know exactly what it was going to look like, but she had an idea – a touch of awen– which she sketched onto the canvas.

A riot of colours were swooshing around in her mind, and eventually she chose the ones she was going to use.

It was autumn and lots of things were happening in her life, but gradually, stitch by tiny stitch, the tree began to appear.

She took the initial lines and gradually elaborated on them with the threads, letting her imagination decide where to take them.

Sometimes, when there were dark days, the repetitive, meditative process of stitching took her mind away from problems and sadness, and gave her peaceful, mindful moments. And all the time the tree continued to grow – watered just a few times with her tears.

But there was a lot of happiness too. She thoroughly revelled in cosying up on the sofa when it was cold outside, thick woolly socks on her feet, listening to the radio or TV while on she stitched.

Time passed, Christmas came and a new year began.

The tree took shape.

And all the unknown spaces, all the blank areas on the initial design, were filled with silk, wool and metallic threads.

Until at last, one day, there were no more spaces to fill…

As Above..

❤

January stitching…

slow stitching

Nearly the end of January and I hope everyone is now getting back into some sort of ‘normal’ routine. (Oh yes, I can hear the cackles from here…).

Around here, things have been going quite well. I’ve somehow managed to get back into a semblance of a domestic rhythm – which is not something the feminist in me would ever have expected to write – but still, there’s no escaping the fact that for me at least I function better and get more creative work done when the boring bits are under control.

But I eased myself in gently. A visit to the V & A at the beginning of the month to see the Fabric of India exhibition, was a great way to get the creative juices flowing. I’ve decided that 2016 will have more Artist Dates* – it’s too easy to get caught up on the hamster wheel of daily life and we need to step off and recharge from time to time.

Fired up by the trip to London I’ve managed to get back to stitching properly this month. Unusually for me, I started the month with two pieces in progress. The first is an experiment with a different style of stitching, inspired by a summer’s day on a Scottish beach.

2016-01-26 10.03.20

I remember sitting on the beach (at Sango Bay to be precise), looking out at the sea and sky and realising that there were distinct bands of colour running horizontally and suddenly thinking that it might make a good subject for a stitchy piece. I didn’t have the phone with me, so instead, I scribbled notes about the different colour bands in a little book I was carrying, and hoped it would be enough description to enable me to interpret it when I came home.

When things were a bit rough before Christmas, I started putting this idea together, and I think having a completely different, ‘see-how-it-goes’ approach made it easier to pick up when I felt able.

2016-01-26 10.01.47 — detail from ‘Beach’

But although it’s definitely producing the look that I was after, I have to say that I don’t find I enjoy long periods of stitching this way. Dare I say it, it’s almost like weaving, in as much as I have to progress from line to line, working lineally. Which explains two things – first, why it remains only about half stitched, and second, why I am now totally concentrating on the other piece – yes, yet another tree…

2016-01-15 13.29.24

I am much more ‘at home’ creating tree pictures, especially if they contain lots of spirals.

While I’ve been curled up, stitching away at this latest specimen, I’ve been thinking more deeply about this addiction to trees. I thought that if I could go back and collect up all the drawings, pictures and doodles I’ve ever done, I’d hazard a guess that well over half would have featured trees. I have no idea where this all started, but I know I was already doing it when I went to secondary school.

My Instagram feed is full of tree pictures – my own and those of the many other people out there who also share this fascination. Last week I met another lady, also an embroiderer, who does exactly the same thing and takes a daily picture of a favourite tree – it’s a small world.

You don’t have to be obsessed with trees for long before you become engaged in exploring the mythology surrounding them. I had originally thought I might write about that in particular, for instance the Tree of Life, Yggdrasil, Druid oak groves, that sort of thing – but it’s such a huge topic, these are just Western mythologies, and trees feature in the mythos and cosmology of cultures all around the world – I wouldn’t know where to begin or end.

So if trees speak to you too, then I’m sure you’ll have your own thoughts on why you’re attracted to them and there’s a very good chance the enchantment goes right back into the mists of time. Something to ponder as the needle goes in and out…

And I shall carry on with this one and wish you all happy stitching!

❤

* Artist Dates: Julia Cameron’s suggestion in The Artist’s Way that artists should have a weekly ‘Artist’s Date’ to charge their creative batteries.

Back again…

hearth and home

I really must begin by thanking you for bearing with me over the last few weeks. I know I’ve always maintained that blogging should be done as and when you feel you have something to say, not to some self-imposed schedule, but even so, I have been well and truly off-piste since November, so I do appreciate you sticking with me.

The last couple of months of 2015 were pretty full-on for me. A mixture of dreadful lows and gorgeous highs, set against the unrelenting onslaught of Christmas. I’ve learned now just how much energy this kind of ricocheting takes and discovered that I can now say ‘no’ fairly effectively (I recommend it!). I’ve also been humbled by the tremendous care and help my daughters have offered over this rocky time, they’re growing into extremely lovely young women and I’m proud of them.

I want to apologise to all you wonderful bloggers who I’ve failed miserably to keep in touch with lately. My one and only resolution for the New Year is to get this back on track. Blogland is a wonderful community and I love being here with you.

And so, 2016 – what’s happening?

I’m hoping to use 2016 as a year of exploration. The old loves, history, nature and landscape continue to fascinate me – more than that, they have me enthralled. I think I’ve always known that these threads were calling to me, this year I hope to weave them together in a way I hope will begin to express their importance to me.

Last year was an enormous learning curve for me on the practicalities of being an artist. For this year I’m intending to protect more time for making art. I’m going to brush the rust off some of my old organisational skills to help me achieve a better balance – in fact I think I might adopt balance as my word of the year.

When my dear friend died last year, far too young and with far too much still to give, it really brought home to me how precious life is and how important it is that we use our time for the really important things, and so that’s what I intend to do.

May you all have a wonderful, happy and productive 2016 – be you!

❤

I continue to photograph the oak most days on my morning walk. The shots in this post are from the end of December and beginning of January – too much grey, not enough sunshine!

Green – everywhere I look…

hedgerow watching

I just don’t seem to be able to get away from greens at the moment. I suppose that this year, even more than usual, I’ve been tuned-in to greens, having been working with a green palette for quite a few weeks.

Embroidery – well the way that I do it – is an extremely slow art form, and all those hours of stitching, inevitably lead you into a very close relationship with the different shades you’re using.

And similarly, the various textures, coarse tweeds, strong wools, fluid silks, all play differently in your hand and in the canvas – all working together in sometimes unexpected ways.

Trying to plan what goes where I find to be a fairly pointless exercise. Instead it seems to be better to simply let each thread decide, according to what else is happening around it.

Impossible at this most verdant time of the year, to ignore the way that the countryside changes colour. So many delicate plants appearing in the lane every day now, but all held together by nature’s tapestry of green.

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All photographs taken in the lane on the daily dog walk, over the last couple days. Follow me on Instagram for other daily pictures…

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Tree time: An oak through a year…

hedgerow watching

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Well, as many of you will know, back at the beginning of January 2014, on a whim, I started taking a photograph each day, of one particular oak tree that I pass while walking the Delinquent Dog.

A year and many, many pictures later (I didn’t miss out too many days in 2014), I thought I’d make a little slide show to show how the oak and the surrounding hedges changed over the course of the year. It’s also a record of some of the blue skies – and the many grey – we enjoyed during our morning walks.

I love watching the tree, but in fact it’s really the changes in light that have had me most enthralled over the months – even the enormous changes day on day we sometimes have.

What these pictures don’t show is the rain – occasionally quite a lot of it! And sadly they can’t give you the sounds to go along with them. Today, it was really noticeable how much more the birds are beginning to sing again – it might not feel too spring-like yet, but it sounds like spring already. And there have been many mornings when the wind was roaring through the branches, like a train going past!

I’ve selected quite a few here, but if you’re really interested/mad/have nothing better to do – and want to see every day – go over to my Instagram page – click here or on the links in the sidebar – and you should be able to scroll through them all.

I was going to stop once I’d completed a whole year, but I find now that I can’t just walk past without getting the phone out for a quick snap, and anyway the dog automatically walks to our spot and waits for me, so I’ll just keep on doing it. I’ve sort of got into the habit of posting them up on Instagram, so if you want to keep following, just pop over to the side panel or follow me on Instagram.

If anyone feels a tiny bit inspired to do something similar – not necessarily a tree, there are lots of alternatives – please go ahead and tell us all about it – you’ll actually be the one who has the most fun though – I guarantee.

❤

Tree Time: December…

hedgerow watching

It’s hard for me to believe that it’s nearly a full year since I started the daily tree project, but there we are, time flies and all that.

This was the oak on Christmas Morning. It was a simply gorgeous time to be out and about. There had been a slight frost, but almost all was gone when I took the Delinquent Dog for his constitutional, instead there was an almost warm sunshine and fabulous blue sky.

But this is what Boxing Day looked like…

Taken at the same time of day as the previous picture – just goes to show how huge an impact the weather has on the way you see things around you.

And after almost twelve months of watching that oak pass through the seasons, it’s really the weather and the changes in light each day that have held me most in thrall.

I know we’re incredibly lucky to live in a country where the weather varies so much, even if we’re famous for using it as our stock conversation line – it’s not difficult to see how it must affect us, when you realise just how many shades daylight comes in.

Over the year, I’ve learned just how ignorant I am about natural history. I’ve watched countless species of green plants emerge from the hedgerow, grow and die down, and managed to identify only a few of them. I’ve seen lots of wildlife. Squirrels top the list of animals, although rabbits have their season, and we’ve seen quite a few deer over the year too. Fox encounters have been rare, but actually my favourite, they seem almost as intrigued by us as we are by them, they stand and take us in for a few seconds, assessing us, before judging it best to run and hide. I’ve practically never managed to get the camera out in time.

Birds are even more difficult to photograph. We are in a red kite area, and from time to time, I’ve stood and watched them wheel around above the field, but my pictures are no use at all. We see lots of jays, which always give me a little thrill, it’s just that flash of colour you can’t miss. And at the moment, we seem to be seeing robins everywhere – but maybe that’s just a function of the season!

But birds and squirrels, lovely though they are, haven’t taught me as much as the trees, hedges and plants about the passing of time. Even at the beginning of December, (2nd December above), there were still a few leaves left on the hornbeam hedge, now though, after the wind, rain and frosts, there’s not a leaf remaining.

The 19th December and all the leaves have finally gone.

Sometimes, as we get older, we talk about how time flies, and of course there are ways in which this feels right, but having spent a year walking the same route, almost every day, stopping to look and notice what’s happening along the way, it seems to me that a year is a long time, a full and rich time, in which a whole cycle of life and death has passed, and already I’m looking out for the signs of life beginning all over again. I find that immensely reassuring and exciting too.

I haven’t quite decided what to do next year. It won’t be possible to walk past the tree and not take its picture, but I’m not sure if I’ll post them on Instagram (where, by the way, you can see almost every day’s photo from this year) and I think perhaps there should be something new here on the blog for 2015. But having amassed pictures from 2014, I’m quite keen to do it again and compare year-on-year. This, I strongly suspect, will be of far more interest to me than anyone else, and although I would one day like to be the sort of old dear who’ll tell you how late spring is this year, how the bluebells are early and how things were different in her day, I’m not quite ready to be that woman just yet.

Next month, I’ll do the January 2014 vs January 2015 post – just so we can see the full circle. I hope you’ve enjoyed the Tree Time posts, if anyone feels like doing something similar, I’d say don’t hesitate, ‘do it!’ You probably won’t learn what you thought you might, but I guarantee you’ll discover a lot of new things.

❤

Tree Time: November…

hedgerow watching

Warning – this post contains the gratuitous use of asterisks – those of a nervous disposition should leave now.

So it’s now eleven months since I started taking a photograph of this particular oak every time I pass it while walking the Delinquent Dog – how time flies!

The photograph above was taken this morning – another grey day as you can see.

This is how the oak has been progressing over the last couple of weeks…

Once again we can see the elegant branch structure that caught my eye all those weeks ago.

The weather has been very grey this month so far – even the days that started out sunny, seem to have turned grey before nightfall and we’ve had a lot of rain. In fact it’s been the wind and rain that finally brought the leaves off the oak, almost overnight.

Some of us find it hard-going when the light levels are low, so I’m hoping it won’t be long before we get sharp frosts and crisp blue skies. The cold I can deal with, but darkness really gets to me.

I’d planned to end this post with an uplifting little poem about November, but having dredged my way through Google, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is an unremittingly miserable month for poets too. I’m not going to put anything I found up here, just in case it drives anyone over the edge – really, you’d think poets through history have deliberately waited for November to indulge their most depressive fantasies.

Does anyone actually know a funny poem or saying about November – if you do, for heaven’s sake, tell me please! Never mind NaNoWriMo, let’s have ‘write something witty, ‘cos November’s so sh***y!’

Right, I’m off to hibernate…

❤

Tree Time: October…

hedgerow watching

Well, really, it hardly feels like a couple of days since I was writing about September – what’s happening!

Yesterday I took this photo of the oak…

I had intended to write this post yesterday afternoon, but events got in the way. So, roll forward twenty-four hours and this is what it looked like this morning…

What a difference a day makes (and the tail end of Hurricane Gonzalo) – the branches were being seriously tossed about – I imagine there will be significantly fewer leaves on it by the end of today.

Until now, I’ve felt that autumn was drifting in rather slowly this year.

The bracken is fast turning brown and starting to wilt,

this week I’ve started spotting a lot more toadstools,

and the holly berries are looking succulent,

but I suppose because it’s still quite warm, it hasn’t felt especially autumnal – not enough mists yet and only the one cursory frost.

Here’s the oak at the beginning of September for comparison.

❤

If you want to watch the almost daily progress of the oak over the next couple of months, do follow me on Instagram.

❤

Tree Time: September

hedgerow watching

In which we know it’s autumn…

Nine months of watching the changes to the oak tree on the lane. Above is a picture from each month of 2014, starting in January and ending with the picture I took this morning, showing how the tree – and the hedge – has changed over the weeks and months.

In August, although I felt that something was beginning to be different in the air, you still couldn’t really say that we’d moved into autumn, but now, despite afternoon temperatures on many days reaching summer levels, you certainly know at 8am in the mornings, that the earth has turned into the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness…

The oak is changing colour now. There were hints of change last month, but they were difficult to pinpoint, the quality of light makes such a difference to what you can see each day. Now I can see the beginnings of a golding, as if someone has lightly sprayed antique gold paint across the leaves. But it’s still subtle, green continues to dominate.

But change is more obvious in the lane.

The lush growth of midsummer is dying down now. Bracken is tinged with brown as the first fronds die back. The cleavers that I thought would strangle the nettles have all but disappeared. And everywhere, the huge abundance of fruits is evident. The hedges are red with haws and hips, and sloes and blackberries hang heavy along the way.

Gradually I’m beginning to be able to see through the hedge again to the fields beyond, which until now have been hidden behind a curtain of tall, thick green foliage.

This month I’ve surprised a couple of pheasants and been mocked by dozens of squirrels – they obviously think that teasing the Delinquent Dog is a jolly good game. And is it me, or can I hear more birdsong now – it certainly seems so.

I haven’t quite had to resort to gloves and a scarf yet, but it didn’t feel far away today – I might get them out ready.

❤

I post my daily photographs of the tree and other snaps from walking the Delinquent Dog on Instagram – either follow me there, or see the mini-versions on the right-hand sidebar of the blog for regular updates.

❤

Tree Time: August

hedgerow watching

Shhhh! If we all keep very quiet, I might manage to write this before the teenage daughters materialise from their beds. I don’t generally find August compatible with blogging – we’re either out and about doing too much, or we’re in, but I can’t get anywhere near my computer for girls watching YouTube or playing fantasy games. So let’s be quick…

When August started, you could still make a fairly convincing argument for it still being summer. We had plenty of hot sunny days with a few gloriously blue skies off-setting the wonderful greens from the oak and the hedge in front of it.

But it wasn’t long before I felt there was quite a change to the air on the early morning walk. A tinge of coolness on the edge of the breeze that hadn’t been there before. Much of the hedgerow undergrowth has died back now and views are beginning to open up again through the gaps in the hedge.

By this morning, there really isn’t any doubt that we’re now at the beginning of autumn.

Thick dew on the field this morning. And berries appearing all along the lane.

There was a different quality to the light through the trees.

Autumn is my favourite season.

I’m not going to dwell too much on this, but this morning, I noticed how extremely glossy and gorgeous the holly bushes are at the moment – and how many berries they seem to be growing – isn’t there some country saying about the amount of berries and the harshness of the winter?…

Too soon to be thinking about that.

❤

Sounds from upstairs – time to be off.

Enjoy the rest of the summer, back into the swing again very soon.

❤

For more or less daily pictures of the oak and what’s happening on the lane, follow me on Instagram or watch the bar at the side of these posts.

Tree time: July…

hedgerow watching

Phew, we made it to the last day of term! Things are a bit behind around here, but I’ve just stolen a few minutes to write up the latest from my daily tree project, before I pour a large glass of something red and delicious and head to the sofa.

This was the oak at the beginning of July

As the weeks go by and the hedges fill outwards and upwards, it’s getting harder to see the tree behind the green screen.

And here it is today (July 23rd) – the bird box is now almost invisible behind all the growth.

Seven months in and the best thing for me about this whole project so far, is that I’ve gone from sort of noticing what was going on around me, to really being interested and looking out every day for changes in the hedges and trees along our route. I’ve become much more aware of what’s growing where and the developing leaves, flowers and now fruits too. I wish there was a pet naturalist handy to come along on the odd walk and tell me more about what I’m seeing, but I’m definitely learning a lot about the local plant and animal/bird life.

A while ago, I realised that I’m inevitably going to want to be able to compare what I’ve seen this year with what happens next year. At first I tried keeping a daily diary – on paper and then digitally, but I just don’t have the time to keep up that pace, so I thought I’d try to do a summary here once in a while.

So the highlights of July on our daily walk have been…

Seeing the baby conkers start to form.

But being concerned that the horse-chestnut trees already seem to have gone into autumn mode – they’re all like this, is that normal or are they ill?

Ok, you’re probably wondering why I’ve put this picture here. Well, until mid-July the whole lane was a mess of huge, dangerous pot-holes (which it has had for as long as I’ve been walking this route) Then one morning two weeks ago, as the dog and I stood clear of a fast approaching Audi, we watched him hit a particularly big hole and blow out his front tyre. I stopped to talk to him and he said the council should sort out the road – oh yes, I thought, and pigs will be sprouting wings any day now, but just look what happened a week later!

Mind you, it was a very patchy job to say the least, as you can see by the amount of water still filling the holes after the mid-month thunderstorms…

Can you see the squashed traffic cone in the hedge – it used to mark the biggest hole. You’d still be foolish to drive, walk or cycle in those puddles.

Talking of rain, we’ve certainly had our share this month. The lane becomes a fast-flowing stream – which I love, but the dog hates…

The sky has been wonderful

But perhaps the best part of the month has been watching the fruits arrive in the hedgerow…

elderberries, not ready yet, but there will be plenty.

Hazelnuts,

and blackberries, although there are still a lot of brambles in flower.

These thistles are nearly over now, but I loved their shape and texture.

The lane feels more like a tunnel now that the hedges are so high. This was the lane in February

And today.

I think I may have become a tiny bit obsessed with all this 🙂

❤

Tree Time: June…

hedgerow watching

So here we are, half way through the year. I must admit to being quite pleased with myself for sticking with my daily tree photo project, but the truth is that I’m enjoying doing it very much indeed.

When I started, it was the changes in the weather and the light that held my interest while the tree didn’t seem to be doing very much, but since then, I’ve become far more aware of all the other developments happening as the year progresses along our route. So this year I’ve watched all the wild flowers as they bloom, I’ve seen the hawthorn blossom turn the lane white, I’ve heard the first cuckoo of spring, I’ve been soaked to the knees wading through a sea of grass in the field after rain, and I’ve held onto the dog’s lead as the new tiny rabbits made their initial forays into the lane.

It will be midsummer in two days time and I think I can already feel another change in the air. There is so much growth, bracken and nettles tower over me in the hedges, I have to force my way into the place where I stand to take the tree photos, but all that energy can’t be sustained, it will soon be time for nature to rest.

I’m excited to see how the next six months unfold.

Happy Midsummer.

❤