"Chiaroscuro" seemed like a good title.
These two pictures sum up last week as I prepared for my first big art fair, Art in the Pen, at Thirsk. I tried to work in the dark, gloomy cave of the house while the sun beckoned like a secret lover, through the lace bedspread, hung to keep out the bitey insects. Setting up outside I was driven back in by the glare or the wind or the fact that I looked like I'd been dip dyed upside down in a vat of pink from sunburn. The evenings of swimming were blissful though and I'm now slightly addicted to the well documented after effects of being in cold water; the silky cool feeling under the skin that contrasts with the warm surface and the release of endorphins that feels weirdly like the effects of ...hmmm, less "official" methods (which I neither admit to, endorse or condone) but were once described thus by American chemist Alexander Shulgin ... "I feel absolutely clean inside, and there is nothing but pure euphoria. The cleanliness, clarity, and marvellous feeling of solid inner strength continued… through the next day. I am overcome by the profundity of the experience." Obviously swimming is a much more healthy way of feeling "pure euphoria" and less likely to land you in jail; it really has helped lift my blue moods when my natural inclination would normally be to curl up and nest.
After an epic drive ( hot air blowers on full blast to stop the car overheating in the traffic jams) and still in recovery from a 3 day migraine ( brought on by dropping the settee on my foot during a mad hoovering session and not cured by standing for an hour, thigh deep in Scope Beck wearing just a t-shirt, hat and pants like a crazy old hobo) I made it to Thirsk and set up my pen (with lots of help from Rupert who'd been waiting there for hours).It was a fantastic, if unlikely, event. As if by magic the slightly grubby and smelly animal pens were transformed by an amazing group of artists and makers who not only produce fabulous work but also design the display solutions (not easy making a sheep pen that was awash with slurry hours earlier, look like a gallery), and work like mad to make it all look great. I didn't have much chance to look at everyone's stands as I was on my own but it was so good to meet Hester Cox in person at last (my heart is set on one of her prints one day) and I spent a virtual fortune on some the work I saw on other people's stands. My friend Sarah Ames wins my "resilience and tenacity" award for doing the whole thing on her own and driving all the way back home to Cockermouth every night! Sarah Robely wins "set design and catering "award because her stand was pristine and her lovely mum Shona, was there with home baked treats to feed to the 5,000. Bridget Wilkinson wins my "wow you're an inspiration" award because she was so helpful, is a good friend and is making it work! I've also got to thank the lovely Penny Hunt because she suggested I applied and her gorgeous work will be at the "Inspired by" gallery in Danby next week for her solo show, as well as Skipton Art in the Pen next month.
Ok, it's no fun reading lists of links or thank you's so I'll stop now but if I missed you out it forgive me; everyone I met was truly inspirational and that's before I think about all the friends who came and said hello. I'm still processing it all- months of isolation followed by a manic weekend of catch ups and emotion can be a bit overwhelming and I'm trying not to worry too much about all the ridiculous things I may have said or the faces I didn't instantly recognise when they appeared out of context!
I walked alone across familiar fields that belonged to another lifetime and stood watching a small drama as the sun set and a pair of buzzards, disturbed by something not visible, called to each other and dipped and swooped with chattering, acrobatic swallows- rioting before bedtime.
And so, after catching up with as many people as I could and wishing with all my heart I could spend more time with them, I took a massive detour home to avoid a traffic jam which would have meant needing to steam my face again with the car heaters. A two hour journey took four but I saw some great landscapes as trundled back through Kirby Stephen, Kendal and the South Lakes. I actually found myself saying "hello" out loud when Blencathra finally popped in to view and for a treat we went to the pub for chips before an icy, dusk swim in the river to wash away the sin of fried food. A tent was pitched right beside the swimming hole, as I'd guessed it might be, so we lowered ourselves in to the dark water upstream, trying to gasp quietly at the shock and swam quickly and breathlessly past the campers, trying not to alarm them. It felt quite exciting and the mossy rocks were like carpeted steps under the water- I wouldn't like to be in water any faster though, it's deceptively hard to swim against even a gentle current and I do quite enough of that on dry land.
Now I'm going to tidy up the boxes still to be unpacked and see what I have left to take to Skipton on the 12th -13th of August and prepare for a workshop at Greystoke next week. Thanks again to everyone who made it a fun weekend. I have loads more to say but I'm having think first and anyway, it's time for coffee and baking a cake I think ;) 
I walked alone across familiar fields that belonged to another lifetime and stood watching a small drama as the sun set and a pair of buzzards, disturbed by something not visible, called to each other and dipped and swooped with chattering, acrobatic swallows- rioting before bedtime.And so, after catching up with as many people as I could and wishing with all my heart I could spend more time with them, I took a massive detour home to avoid a traffic jam which would have meant needing to steam my face again with the car heaters. A two hour journey took four but I saw some great landscapes as trundled back through Kirby Stephen, Kendal and the South Lakes. I actually found myself saying "hello" out loud when Blencathra finally popped in to view and for a treat we went to the pub for chips before an icy, dusk swim in the river to wash away the sin of fried food. A tent was pitched right beside the swimming hole, as I'd guessed it might be, so we lowered ourselves in to the dark water upstream, trying to gasp quietly at the shock and swam quickly and breathlessly past the campers, trying not to alarm them. It felt quite exciting and the mossy rocks were like carpeted steps under the water- I wouldn't like to be in water any faster though, it's deceptively hard to swim against even a gentle current and I do quite enough of that on dry land.Now I'm going to tidy up the boxes still to be unpacked and see what I have left to take to Skipton on the 12th -13th of August and prepare for a workshop at Greystoke next week. Thanks again to everyone who made it a fun weekend. I have loads more to say but I'm having think first and anyway, it's time for coffee and baking a cake I think ;)