run river run

last weekend was spent in a cabin in the woods at marsh lake

the first day was overcast, a day where the ground and sky were almost the same colour and the only colour in the landscape came from the hills and trees

a windy day with ice crystals in the air, diffusing the light and softening the shapes

the next day the sun shone, the sky added a flash of blue and the edges of the landscape hardened

on both days we walked in the woods...

the other day I started on some pencil studies of the photos, quick, mostly value-driven except where lines took over the image 

here are the first two

the light through the trees was golden; pulsating rays that made one feel was the forest was breathing, in and out, in and out 

on the way to the lake we had stopped at the used book store so to rummage through the northern books where i hit the jackpot

a 1985 publication mapping the yukon river from marsh lake to circle city... a history of the river from the early 1800s to the mid-1900s complete with pages and pages of hand-drawn maps accompanied by corresponding photographs and notes from yukon archives

the paper seemed to be of a good quality with a nice weight to it so the first thing was to try adding colour

i used graphitint pencils by derwent, testing a few soft colours... no bucking or texture change at all which pleased me immensely

next was to try tinting a few of the images - i was trying for a hand-tinted photo effect

below i used a yellow-green, just in the sunny areas

and then a pale cool grey

subtle

next a simple pocket fold, concertina-style - the paper folded beautifully, crisp edges, nice and sturdy so i made it into a small book

the cover is watercolour paper, painted like the freezing river

a couple of the pages tinted, still trying different colours though i discovered i prefer using only one colour in a book this size

from the leftover paper i cut a bookmark and tucked it into a pocket to see what that might look like

the plan now is to copy different lines from the "spell of the yukon" by robert service... this one will have 

"and the rivers all run god knows where"

feels appropriate... as i think about maybe finally being in "flow" with my ideas, and though there is no clear direction to them it's comforting to take that line on as a metaphor of my own

no need to know where the ideas going. just letting them flow and watching the river run

the dailies

the days have begun to find their rhythm and i have begun to find mine

rather than trying to focus on any one concept or technique i decided to take a bit of a looser, freer approach

it's a rather simple one  called "scratching an itch"

when there's something i think i'd like to try i just go for it, doing the best i can with what i have

 loose watercolour paintings have always appealed to me so the other night i had a go... the results were less than good - no palette knife and too thick a brush made for clunky trees; a lack of control over the water yielded a few good blobs

i tore it up, rearranged things a bit and added some marks with a white posca pen

still not great but there are a few areas I like and it reminds me of creek that runs along the alaska highway in whitehorse... partially frozen, lined with evergreens that still look more black than green in the waning winter months

the next day I tried again... a bent paper clipper subbing for the absent palette knife, a white crayon for resist and better control of the water... this time, willow branches and shadowed snow beneath a grey sky

i've also found a few more phrases and words in the poetry of robert service and now i've begun to work with them in a calligraphic manner

i signed up for a workshop by Brody Neuenschwander 

the expressive line, part 1

it's the perfect thing to work at during nap time, few tools are required and it's quite a meditative thing to do

the other day i felt like stitching so added a couple of scraps of lace to the piece you see below... as I was considering where to attach the lace i thought it reminded me of japanese calligraphy

something else to consider

so everyday something... trying a few things and seeing what comes of it

in film, the dailies are the unedited production work each day that are then processed and reviewed... these small things I work on each day are that for me... doing, looking, evaluating and then sometimes trying again

calling them "the dailies" somehow takes the pressure off

i like that

stillness

"it's the stillness that fills me with peace"

words by robert service wander through my mind as i walk the dark snowy streets...

"'til the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming,

and the stars tumbled out neck and crop"

the mountains all around are deep with snow but there are still rock faces that are bare, a white landscape full of various shades of grey

the northern snow is so different, dry, granular and sparkling in both sun and moonlight

dark limbs show starkly

a graphic world of angles and lines

last year i gessoed a piece of white scrim and tried printing on it with my gelli-plate

it came with me and last night i sat looking at it for a long time, finally tearing off a piece for the tag you see above

it tore easily and like a child enjoying an impulsive act of destruction, i kept tearing it

the lower piece, i have plans for though they will have to wait until i'm home i think... but i'll be working with the upper one in the coming days

you can't see it here but there's a lovely sheen to some of the painted areas, with the whole having the effect of late-season dirty snow

(if you click on the tag image to enlarge it further you might see it there)

today i opened the blinds to this; the spaces between the fence boards created beautiful lines of light slanting along the surface and my grandchild's footprints, somewhat snowed in, created an interesting disruption in the pattern

the image below has been purposefully darkened to make the snow sparkle a bit like what it was in real life

it's been hard to settle into any determined work; each night when my supplies are brought to the table i find myself unsure of what to do but full of a desire to work with what I'm seeing and feeling

things feel tentative, exploratory, kind of like dipping a toe

i'm enjoying it though, the quiet contemplation

  the small simple things i'm doing will build into something stronger and for now i'm not just figuring out what to do, i'm thinking about what matters to me and letting that guide me

"i am the land that listens"

the road report

I've been taking advantage of the lengthening days and going outside after dinner, walking the roadways of my youth

twilight here is a beautiful thing, the sky of changing blues always tinged with various shades of pink and purple depending on the clouds and the dark silhouettes of the trees

I forgot just how many trees there are in this subdivision, built in the 1960s when people only cleared the forest in the spot where there house was to be built

everywhere you look tree branches are silhouetted against either the snow on the ground or the sky

below is a tree branch against the snow, which also looks blue in the fading light

too cold to do any sketching outside but I'm practicing my drawing skills inside, cozy and warm,

 copying sketches from a drawing book recommended by a friend:

https://www.amazon.ca/Drawing-Landscapes-Pencil-Ferdinand-Petrie/dp/1626543860

I love drawing by copying sketches from a book - it's almost meditative in a way and there's a sense of ease in it; I'm not trying perfectly capture a tree or rock I'm standing in front of so the pressure is off

it's more about practicing shading, angle, and pressure - playing with different pencils to see what they can do and not at all about finishing

I work on them for as long as I feel like and when I'm tired of it I move on

the other night I started a bit of stitching, inspired by the colours I was seeing and the landscape of lines: the outlines of the mountains, telephone wires, streetlights, trees, roadways etc. etc. 

not replicating anything, just lines in colours on a grey linen that reminds me of the dirt on the roads and the dark smudges mountains and hills where they aren't covered with snow

not finished but no plan for where it's going either

on some of the evenings walks I am noticing things that trigger memories - the other night, walking by where our old house was and the vacant lot next door (which could never be built on as it's solid bedrock), remembering climbing the trees and picking wild roses in summer and rose hips in winter, I found this little branch so I brought it home and did a quick sketch in a small journal I plan to add to in the same manner over the next eight weeks

"evening walk along the old ways, a twig gathered from 40 - 14th Ave., the smell of woodsmoke, the sound of barking dogs... closed my eyes and I was twelve, walking to Cheryl's"

above, the pattern tread of an atv on the sidewalk

"you know you're in a small northern town when..."

it's given me an idea to explore though, based on a radio fixture from when I was a child which is still done every single day

"the road report"

an update on the conditions of the highways of the territory - there aren't very many so it's a short update but a necessary one, especially in the winter

travel is a necessity, especially for people who live in the communities outside of whitehorse and with the only options being the roadways or light planes,  being prepared for travel in frigid conditions is key

  it did something else though, almost equally important

it emphasised the fact we were all in it together, there was a common concern and awareness of just how few people lived here and how spread out they were and how the roads brought us together

and it's still exactly the same

yet more to ponder