Can you possibly look at more sketches? I went for a late walk yesterday - the moon was already up over the hill. The low light brought out wonderful contrasts of color. I have found my favorite sketching spot right outside my door. After tromping all over the hills, isn’t that the way it always goes?

So - one thing I know that I also forget - paint from your memory not photographs. Photographs don’t tell the truth, memory does. For me, sketching is vital to imprint the memory.

I could certainly never mirror nature. I would like more to paint what it leaves with me,

Joan Mitchell, American artist associated with the American abstract expressionist movement, even though she lived in France for most of her career

Below is the sketch and the painting in response to the sketch and my memory. I am hoping to paint what it leaves with me too.

I have been having some great conversations of late. Yesterday, Thom, the grounds keeper, returned from six week maternity leave and stopped by to bring me a WI-FI booster. We started talking art. He is a sculptor and printmaker. (He is responsible for the tree savers out on the green hill - my line project). We hovered over the computer and looked at artists who influence each of us. He is into “line” too.

In the afternoon, my pal, Kate Young and I decided to wear our new coats from the vintage shore in the village and treat ourselves to lunch at the Knockderry Hotel near Cove Park. She is a folk musician and has just returned from two years in The Netherlands with a degree in Scenography. ( Her album on Spotify - Kate in the Kettle) She is completely adorable and great company, She recorded me saying Peaky BLIIIIINDERS in my southern drawl to show her friends.

Wednesday , I rode the train to Oban. Walked the town and ate delicious fish and chips with a pint in a small restaurant of five tables. A woman from Canada on my left, a couple from a nearby island on my right and a mom/daughter team across the way. My beer was served in the most beautiful pint glass which wasn’t for sale. Darn it. (I collect pint glasses then when I travel) The lovely Polish waitress said “I will close my eyes if you want it.” Everyone was cheering me on to put in my my pack. Of course I couldn’t steal it. A little later, she walked by with a glass wrapped in napkins and put it on my lap. Perfect day.

October 25

October 24

October 26