NOW AND THEN.

 

GOURDS FROM THE GARDEN.

Can or should art be considered a good investment? To invest, apart from the literal meaning describing the act of clothing with a vest, it has also come to mean to produce interest or profit on capital, certainly not what goes through my mind when purchasing artwork. As with any non-essential commodity the value of art will inevitably be governed equally by rarity and fashion no matter how ancient or modern.

Like most reasonably successful artists I’ve had those lean years of stock piling that have contrasted with the occasional sell out exhibition. Just as the job is not a nine to five so the income is erratic. One of the many added benefits is to be able to fill the walls of my own home with my art. Looking back I note that the honeymoon period of high prices in the early 90’s was short lived, but there are several painting from that period I would gladly buy back. Following the move to Central Finistere in Brittany my prices had to adapt to the largely rural peasant population. This was the inevitable penalty I had to pay for leading such an idyllic life style. Sales were sporadic and my prices ranged from 100-400 euros, rarely topping the thousand euro mark. Today I still offer work from as little as £50. This still life, painted in 2003 was marked then at 350 euros, but today I would be asking £1350, is that keeping up with inflation? As I grow older and the due date of departure creeps closer I wonder if my artwork can now be considered to have matured like a fine wine ready for drinking, or does a bad photo and a crass comment on Instagram have more influence. While there seems to be money enough for all sorts of instant gratification, I wonder what sort of future we are investing in.  

THIS IS NOT NORMAL.

 

This has been my mantra, and what I’ve been repeatedly saying to visiting friends. We do seem to have short memories, so perhaps this weather is not totally unheard of or unique, however the combination of several weeks without rain and a drying breeze has now been follow by hot still days. The midges would not normally be a problem if this clear blue sky days were accompanied by some air movement. Work outside in the garden has been curtailed as any movement of soil with hoeing or weeding brings up clouds of then. Wearing a net is a misery and a last resort. I have been wandering down the croft most afternoons to Traigh Mhor beach for a cooling dip in the Minch, the only problem being the trudge home leaves me as hot as ever. The sustained heat has meant good early growth and prolific flowering, and from my kitchen window the stand of foxgloves are particularly cheering. Down in the vegetable garden the red admiral butterflies are busy on the chive flowers and cabbage whites seem to be everywhere.

 Thankfully my brassicas are undercover, although there are plenty of last year’s kale plants going to seed. The trees I’ve planted over the past ten years are really beginning to put on growth, while the shrubs have thickened out to provide good cover for nesting birds. There is a significant increase in song thrushes, and all birdlife seems more abundant since the removal of next doors killer cat. I’ve discovered two goldfinch nests and the wrens have found shelter within the old black house walls. The garden seems alive with them. 

The cuckoo has, I think finally stopped his incessant calling, but it has been a real pleasure to hear the evocative call of curlews, both down on the croft and inland on the moorland grazing. When out at Loch Diridean a couple of Bewick swans gave me vocal accompaniment, while I added a few more stones to the old sheep fank crossing. Their deep whistling call the only sound on that balmy hot day, a time when simply to be is enough. 

This morning the rain arrived with a light breeze, now that is normal.   

LEAVE ONLY FOOT PRINTS

 

During the mid-summer tourist season OSH. (Open Studios Hebrides), is for the third year organising a six day open studio event when the general public can follow the trail and meet the artists and makers at their place of work. Since my studio is already open at this time of year, it would be churlish of me not to take part in this public relations exercise. This is seen as high season for tourist, but unfortunately for me that means the low season for sales. Still I remain for ever hopeful. Thankfully the cruise ship passengers do not venture this far even though there are buses that will bring them right to my door. I’ve also avoided attracting any coach tours, although I gather from a friend that some of these can be quite lucrative. This year OSH have also organised an exhibition at An Lanntair, our local art centre in Stornoway, running from 8^th July to the 5^th August. Here will be found a full selection of artwork from the island alongside a themed section which has given its name to the exhibition. “Leave only footprints” is a very appropriate and timely title that opens a window on the relationship we have with planet earth. My friends will know I have a very jaundiced view of this and some may be able to imagine the sort of image I might produce. We have for ease of exhibiting been restricted to a wall hanging piece one foot square. I am assuming these will be hung as a block and it will be interested to see what impact that has.

There are many ways of looking at leaving only footprints, or maybe that could as easily be interpreted as do no harm. As an artist I hope to leave more than footprints, but the title I believe is aimed specifically at our human behaviour, and in particular when we travel to other places on holiday. In general visitors are so taken with the beauty of the islands that they do respect as well as enjoy our environment. There have been the odd case of camper van toilets being emptied onto the moor, but this sort of behaviour is rare and carries a heavy fine. Litter is still a problem but is often more of a local problem rather than one of visitors. So, as you walk barefoot along the mile and a half stretch of Traigh Mhor beach beyond the crofts and machair of New Tolsta, you can indeed leave only those footprints. I have interpreted this theme quite literally with a footprint, however it is not made of beautiful golden or white sand from the Hebrides, but black titanium sand from the other side of the world and collected during one of my trips to Western Australia. In WA there has historically been a problem with rabbits and even today you can still see remnants of that extra ordinary and infamous rabbit proof fence. The introduction of mixi eventually proved more effective. It is now illegal to spread this devastating disease, however that does not stop people introducing a diseased rabbit into an area. When the rabbits were causing trouble in local cemetery here in Tolsta that is what happened.

It spread fast and wiped out a vast population that provided fodder for many larger birds. In times past rabbits were kept in check by ferreting that also provided a free meal. Now nobody wants to eat rabbit. I had to dispatch this poor creature when returning from my Sunday walk, it didn't move on my approach and the end was swift. There are no rabbits, or buzzards, and the knock on effect is that there have been more problems with black back gulls and ravens attacking lambs. Everything on the face of this planet is connected, from the fungal growth below ground to the insects and birds that fly above it, and we are included in this. Over the past few years we have had the scare of a pandemic virus, but in my eyes and in that of natures, we are the virus. So, surrounding that black sand footprint I’ve placed a mass of bunny bones collected from the New Tolsta machair. Macabre, yes and yet beautiful. That is the thinking behind the work, or is it just coincidence that since being diagnosed with bone cancer my thoughts have often wandered to death and bones?