Scotland, Ireland, Wales. Embracing note taking in the warmer months as a vital part of my practice. Sitting on a mossy oak tree that leans over a river in my favourite Glen, feeling sadness that isn't mine. The basic joy of watching a sunset. Finding balance between the studio, allotment and more mundane parts of life. Feeling warm. Letting the heron that has lived in my mind since last April free on paper.
And suddenly, it is June and I still haven't finished the Curlew.
Every colour, feeling, texture, friend, feather, beach, leaf, moment, view, sigh, laugh, sound, bird, sky, stone, and tear gathered on my trip home to Aotearoa in March was a special gift, locked away in my soul forever. Leaving was hard, and the pages filled with scribbles made in the middle of the night will emerge in drawings soon, I'm sure.
The studio treasure shelf has been re-dressed with items pocketed away on beaches and forest walks to ponder over, every time I am homesick I will pick up a tui or keruru feather, and remind myself I had this one short visit, marvel at the perfect swirl of my pink paua shell and tell myself I will be back soon.
