October 28, 2008

MY creative journey . . .





The  clocks have now gone ticking back an hour and the nights will now be creeping slowly in. Yet i smile because i am always glad to see the seasons change & am looking forward with glee to what the next one brings along. Still to come, crisp frosty patterned mornings & wintery hued sunsets, a new season laying another set of colours over the landscape. Long cosy evenings in front of the crackling, popping fire, a perfect excuse to snuggle in with my paints & my sketch pad.


My weekend of "going with the flow" was a huge success, i am finishing off the piece i started & shall show it very soon, a slightly scary thought. I am slowly re-discovered so much that had slipped into places i couldn't reach, like my love of folklore and of symbolism in art, these i want to include in my work again. I am excitedly waiting the arrival of books on those very subjects that i purchased from Rima across at The Hermitage, a visit there is a must for lovers of more magical places.


I am away to my newly magical place, the studio, to add more to my painting, i love this new focus & excitment that i feel in my work.

October 21, 2008

Jessie M King. . .






nestling quietly  in the beautiful Scottish countryside
home, over many years, to assortments of artists & crafting folk 


. . . in days long gone by
after many travels & inspiring adventures
a free spirit, called Jessie M King came to settle there

 a talented illustrator & designer of wonderful things
she loved all that was medieval and fantasy
she created such delicate illustrations  for  faerie tales & books

designed jewelry, fabrics, murals, costumes & so much more 
this  arty girl could not help but call Jessie  a favourite
all work above by Jessie M King

October 19, 2008

Time out . . .





Mom and I mulled this over yesterday
as we sat chatting over mugs of tea in the sunshine
gazing out over the sheep strewn meadow, out across the turquoise bay.
We are both, we decided, very visual folk, we see our way through life
taking in all that information, storing it away,
to bring out and use as we sketch & paint.




i love days like this, time spent with my Mom, precious moments
we are so very lucky to have this wonderful lady in our lives
a talented artist, a strong, patient, kind, gentle soul
from her i have learnt & have yet to learnt so much



all my life i have watched as Mom created beautiful things,
her paintings & sketches, her garden, the peaceful haven at the cottage
and now, now she is in the process of setting up her very own Blog
i am so excited, i can hardly wait to see it.

( Images taken at the stunning Mullof Galloway, SW Scotland.


October 16, 2008

the moment has arrived


This journey, my creative re-awakening has me feeling as though my senses have been sharpened, as if i have woken from a deep sleep and am seeing the world through new eyes. As i looked around me yesterday i saw the colours of autumn painted over the landscape. The day had a dreamy look, softly smudged around the edges.

But i was not dreaming, after all those long hours of waiting, the moment had arrived, i could soon be saying, finally say "i am my own boss". I now have time to paint, draw, sew, i have precious hours just to create. Time again to express - me, wow, i think it will take a while for this to feel real, time to adjust. I feel quite dazed.

So i am taking time out & spending the days of the half term holiday with my boy. He is growing so fast & time spent with him is precious. Already i have experienced the pull and tug of my heart as i have proudly watched my two daughters grow into beautiful, gentle, independent women. Now the last of my babies is growing up and not needing me! I shall treasure these moments whilst i can. When i was a very new first time Mum, a dear sweet neighbour handed me a tiny envelope inside which was a poem, i still have it, and even though it has not always been possible to live by them as life got in the way, these words have always stayed with me, . . .
Cleaning and cooking can wait 'till tomorrow
For babies grow up, as we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep