Beach patterns

... and while I'm hunting for individual treasures I stumble across these... patterns: all over the beach, shoreline and in shallow waters. The marks nature makes... lines left by waves, by sand worms, snails, and other assorted life that crosses the water line.

So many possibilities. Or will I just stand and watch a little longer.

Beachcombing

... with the nose firmly down and the eyes peeled to the ground, I need to remind myself to look up to the sea, the horizon or the gannets diving for some fish in the distance.

I'm torn between the sweeping seascapes - to sketch up to the horizon; and what is right in front of my nose. Well - far too often the horizon line still wins in this little contest. But look at some of my newest finds, to clutter yet more shelves and to help me imagine a faint scent of wind, salt and sun from yet another - far too rare - day out at the seashore, beachcombing.

From valley floor to seascape...

Elqui 2, oil on canvas, 50x50cm

oops... how did this happen? Unintentionally, my recent series of oil paintings, which started with a view of Elquí Valle in Northern Chile, turned into seascapes.

Let's backtrack for a bit. I haven't posted much here of late. Rather than marking water I have been back marking fields, woods and forests as subject for some printmaking. While I continue to visit Loch Lomond for some water sketches, it seems a bit distant at the moment.

But, anyhow: for the past couple of months I have been working on three oil paintings out of the impressions of sky, hillside and valley floor left by the magnificient Elquí Valle. Much of these developments were not about a particular place but about an exploration of palette (cobalt blue, two cadmium yellows and burnt siena) and markmaking.

And, in this process something happened. While I wasn't looking and my hand were busy with paint brush and palette knife, seascapes appeared out of the fog of various grey layers.

Elqui 3, oil on canvas, 50x50cm

So suggestive is the palette of landscape references that they easily appear; attempts at undoing the land- and seascapes then got interspersed with working precisely on those connections. It's a process I've found utterly enjoyable - a couple of years ago I had begun to develop some landscapes out of incidental marks on paper. This - with the oil paint as medium and on a larger scale - was even more exciting.

So, I leave you with some seascapes, appropriately misnamed Elquí 1 and Elquí 2.

If you're interested in a bit more detail on the work process of making appear and disappear, here's a process post on my blog.

Elqui 3, Detail, oil on canvas, 50x50cm

Islands of Britain

Last July I spent a week on the Small Isle of Eigg, south of Skye. While we were there, the weather was rather temperamental and the islanders were getting rather excited by the prospect of a film crew arriving. The crew arrived duly with Martin Clunes to film on the island has part of Clunes's forthcoming series of Islands of Britain.

How lucky to catch the programme tonight after a day long of rather boring computer chores. How lucky also to catch exactly that episode that included Eigg. The crew stayed for four days, and while we never saw them filming all the talk across the island revolved around them and their staging of an impromtu bonfire on the beach. Unfortunately, it kept raining evening after evening, which didn't stop them though as you will see.

It's funny to see people from the week again - the guy from Glasgow with his front teeth missing, that German family who went swimming when it was freezing cold, and the piper who was very excited by Clunes's presence.

I don't know how these videos, catch-ups and various links will work if you try and access them from outside the UK - so apologies if they don't work. I also don't know how many episodes there are, but this is the bumpf for the first one:

• Martin Clunes's Islands of Britain, Episode One
• and the general STV website here

This was a sketch from the one day of sunshine - you will recognise that day straight away in the programme...

Singing Sands, Eigg
Pastel on Board, 35x25cm

PS:
Ach... looks as if STV/ITV doesn't even do proper 'watch it again' - the full programme suddenly reverted to a 2min preview... apologies for that

Banks and shores and low clouds

... they are the characteristic features of my now frequent sketching location: the shores of Loch Lomond and the banks of the River Leven - and where they meet you'll get some fantastic views across the loch, towards Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps. Well: if you do get a view at all.

On my first visit, it decidedly looked like this here:

Loch Lomond in Fog, Pastels on Board, 35x25cm

But I've been back a few times and discovered all these riches within such short reach: drowning boats, exposed tree trunks, trees in water, sandy beaches, and all amidst a bit of salty air from the sea, rain and wind in your face and the sound of seagulls and assorted other birds.

I really like this view here of where the River opens up into the Loch, plenty of bare trees in water - they are quite exquisite, don't you think so? That group in the distant, that singular tree far out in the water and the row just on the shoreline.

If I turn right and look across the river I'll get this myriad of little sandy beachers, exposed roots and grassy slopes - it needs further simplification but I'll be back, promise.

River bank, soft pastel on paper, 29x10cm

In case you wonder: I'm not here, I am away from the computer for the next few weeks, with some brief exceptions... listening to seagulls on the Pacific coast, watching flamingos in the Atacama desert (may try to sketch some); and looking out for penguins.

There should be some updates on my blog here;
Alternatively: here's some more photos of the Loch Lomond location

Introducing Gesa Helms

The sea is yellow, 70x50m Pastel on board

Since Lindsay sent me that email inviting me to join Watermarks, my mind had been providing more and more water-based facts, stories, incidences and connections. Like Laura, I've begun to write in water-related puns, and some of mine are definitely far worse than others.

Some of those facts, stories and connections by way of introduction.

I love the sea. Which more appropriately far too often in reality is: I would love to see the sea. It's love at a distance. Definitely when I grew up amidst fields, woods and more fields and woods. It's a bit less so since I've been living on an -admittedly rather large - island for the past 10 years.

Seascape, Monotype 25x20cm

Just yesterday, we talked about the river Clyde and its importance for the city of Glasgow. And what a small, narrow and shallow river the Clyde is. But Clydeside and Clyde Built are inextricably linked with this city, and so is the existence of the river.

There's for instance, Black is the Colour, sung here by Christy Moore



Or, the monument of La Pasionaria just down from St Enoch Square on the River banks.

I like how Katherine talks about water - the river Thames or other waterscapes - providing a sense of place. I studied geography too. But in many ways, my geography is a distinctly urban one... see above in relation to Glasgow.

And as I discovered in my recent experiments with seascapes - the sea, and my fascination with it, and in particular shorelines is much more mediated, at a distance, somewhat abstract. So, while I do have many photos of holidays spent at the sea, and sketches of the sea and shorelines, most of my sea art is from a distance.

Seabirds Swim, Ink and neo ii in Moleskine, 24x21cm

I hadn't really thought about that before but that distance is quite important. It's about 'here and elsewhere', the elsewhere being quite simply 'across the sea'. It's about being here and elsewhere and the sea, the water providing that link. It's quite a powerful link: to people, places, pasts and futures all the time while being at the seashore. Or on a ferry crossing: inbetween, neither here nor there and yet present.

Some of my seascapes in photo and fine art are in these flickr sets:

• For Photos, this set here; and
• For Fine art the set here

As for my art, much of it is mixed media with a lot of pastel, as in The sea is yellow; I've been doing more and more sketches in ink; and also been playing with printmaking processes. Yet, pastels seem to be the medium of choice to come back too.

• My blog Paint & Pastel: http://gesah.blogspot.com
• My website: http://ghelms.com

• And definitely one of my favourite artist of seascapes is Joan Eardley, see an image search here

Sanna Shores, Pastel on paper, 30x40cm