February on Planet Claudia has good and bad qualities.  On the one hand it’s still cold enough to wear three layers plus mittens, along with the cloud of guilt permanently hovering at not having started any work on the boat yet, let alone tidying up the garden.  On the plus side, this is the month for my two day singing workshop with Maddy Prior and Abbie Lathe at the fabulous Rhosygilwen concert hall near Cardigan.  At the risk of repeating the content of last year’s blog, there’s something truly inspirational about harmony singing.  Knowing little (well, nothing) about music theory, it’s a mystery to me how three or four parts of a song can come together and produce something that’s bigger and better than all the individual pieces.   

Now I’m as guilty as anyone of watching  tv talent shows occasionally, but they do reinforce the myth that people are either extremely talented or completely hopeless.  In other words, if you’re not Somebody, you’re Nobody.  No wonder the cult of celebrity has young people mesmerised; nobody wants to be themselves anymore, they want to be somebody else.  Somebody prettier, thinner, richer, famous.   Most of us are hungry for song, but few will sing for pleasure; we’d rather stay silent and plug in the ipod.   Whilst nothing beats the joy of listening to professional musicians singing live or on cd, that’s only the part of what music is for.  It’s a revelation to find that everyone’s voice can be coaxed out and improved, with technique and a bit of work.  Even mine.   According to Abbie, it’s about supporting your own voice, silencing the inner critic, and trying to be the best you can be, rather than giving up because you can’t sing like somebody else.  In singing as in life, nobody else can make a success of being you except you.

Oops, that wasn’t meant to be a lecture. 

Learning and teaching are both satisfying experiences.  As well as the regular Wednesday watercolour classes this week, I also helped Chris Stephens deliver a one day workshop to schoolteachers.  It’s not often my skills as artist and maritime historian are both required at the same time, but the content of the workshop was about weaving Welsh culture and heritage into the school curriculum in as many learning styles as possible.  It was a hugely enjoyable day; my main input was a session teaching the teachers about the Tenby lugger by learning how to paint one in watercolour.  Much hilarity followed, but everyone acquitted themselves well, even those unfamiliar with watercolour techniques. 

Why a Tenby lugger?  For one thing, they’re easier to draw than a larger ship such as a schooner or brig, and it’s topical in that the ever valiant and resourceful West Wales Maritime Heritage Society is about to begin restoring the last remaining example of a Tenby lugger in Pembroke Dock.  Have a look at their website www.wwmhs.org.uk to find out more, especially if you have any ideas for fundraising. 

Finally, we’re off to the RYA Volvo Dinghy Show next weekend, so the house is filling up with boxes of  ’stuff’ to take.  It’s an enjoyable show, with a great atmosphere, and we’re looking forward to catching up with everyone.   New for this year will be more jewellery, the new log books and sketch books and of course a new fridge magnet or two!

Mill Bay looking southeast out of the haven

I went to Mill Bay last weekend, a pleasant half hour stroll along the coast path from the car park on St Ann’s Head.  It’s the first cove on the left as you sail into Milford Haven.  The path dips down to the cove where a small valley tips a stream onto a rocky foreshore.  You could land a small boat there, but I’d only attempt it in a very flat calm; negotiating the rocks and finding a flat piece of sand to beach would be tricky.  Perhaps there was more sand in Mill Bay in the 15th century.  Perhaps there was a stone pier.  But it’s still an odd choice, as another half an hour’s sail brings you to the glorious sheltered bay of Dale, which is about as perfect as an anchorage and sheltered landing place could be, and would have saved the would-be monarch from an hour’s tramp along the cliffs.  Apparently he sent some of his ships round to Dale, but he preferred to be put ashore at Mill Bay.  I bet he got his feet wet.

Even more sensible than Dale would have been to save another day’s march and take the tide further upriver, to his birthplace at Pembroke perhaps, or to Milford.  Even if the wind was unfavourable, the tide would have carried the fleet upriver very efficiently.  Perhaps he had a girlfriend on St Ann’s Head.  Perhaps he’d had enough of being afloat and was desperate to get ashore.  Perhaps nobody knows, but if you do, please let me know.  It’s always interesting to look at history from a seafarer’s point of view.

St Anne's Head - design for a postcard of Dale (not quite finished!)

If Henry’s ship’s log was still around, I’d love to see it.  And talking of log books (ouch, what a contrived link!) and with a leap of imagination back into the 21st century, my newly designed Log Books for Little Ships are back from the printers - have a look at www.starfishbooks.co.uk for the details.  When I say the books are back from the printers, what I actually mean is that my studio floor has disappeared under several dozen boxes of pages and covers, so there’s just the small business of collating and binding them.   In the meantime I’m stepping over boxes to get to my drawing board.  Ho hum…

Good things about being snowed in…… the village is muffled in silence and beautiful.  The path through the woods looks like a scene from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.    Strangers out for walks are chattier than usual.  Can’t go very far so getting plenty of work done.

Bad things about being snowed in…… trying to type or draw with gloves on.  Not being able to drive anywhere.  Remembering what sailing in the sunshine is like - but only just.  Wondering if I’m going to make it to the introductory session of my watercolour classes in Haverfordwest tomorrow - probably not unless there’s a sudden thaw. 

just don't expect me to drive anywhere...!

I’m not very good at winters.  From September onwards I wear so many layers of clothes that getting dressed in the morning takes ages, but I’m still permanently cold.  Bracing walks after a day at the drawing board are out of the question because it’s gone dark by then - and is usually raining too.  And I’m one of those grumpy people who hates any mention of  Christmas before December and I shout at the radio when they wheel out the cheesy Christmas pop songs.  I’m either turning into a grumpy old woman or I’m just a bit short of sunlight and vitamin D!

But now it’s mid December I’ll admit it, Christmas is imminent.  I can tell because I spend most of the time doing a wide variety of bits and pieces instead of getting stuck in to one big project.   There are Christmas commissions (this week including a wooden name plaque for a boat, a portrait of a Dunkirk Little Ship, and a sketch of a pilot cutter), as well as stocking up galleries and helping Perry sort out online orders.  Talking of  Christmas galleries, here’s a reminder to all you east coast dwellers to visit that unique emporium of all things nautical, Salty Dogs, brainchild of the inimitable Den Phillips.  This year it’s at 57 High Street Maldon so pop in if you get a chance; it just gets better each year.  Another east coast gallery I’m topping up for Christmas is the delightful Sea Pictures Gallery in Clare, Suffolk - not near the sea but that means all the more reason to buy seascapes!  Meanwhile, back here on the west coast I nipped over to Cardigan today to drop some work in at Frame byFrame, run by the inspirational Chloe and Emma. 

After new year I’ll change hats and be an illustrator again, but for the moment it’s good to make more space in the studio and get stuff out there.  Actually, in January I’ll also have my tutor’s hat back on as I’ve a full two classes of keen students waiting for me on a wednesday in Haverfordwest.  Great fun.

The image  above is called  ‘Silent Night’ and it’s one of the Christmas cards I designed for the Nancy Blackett Trust (www.nancyblackett.org).  Unsurprisingly, I don’t do winter sailing, but I know there are those that do!  Which reminds me, good luck to Geoff Holt setting off on his Atlantic Challenge today.  The lengths some people will go to to get some sunshine….. (www.geoffholt.com)

Now here’s a thing - I’ve never knitted and never will, having no affinity at all with anything that requires needles, whether knitting or sewing.  At school I was thrown out of the domestic science sewing class because I was so hopeless, and sent to do Latin instead.  Believe me, Latin was a doddle by comparison. But I do admire the colours and fabrics and textures of all sorts of wearable art, and love the idea of it.  A knitter called Brenda Dayne came to my studio exhibition last week and I discovered that she’s also a very skilled journalist and broadcaster.  She interviewed me and also fellow artist Linda Norris about our approach to art, to include in her series of podcasts on the theme of events and people within a 20 mile radius of her home.  Have a listen on www.cast-on.com - I don’t think it’s compulsory to be knitting whilst you listen!

I thought it was interesting that knitters cast on to begin their journey and sailors cast off.  All is connected….

As an artist, I would rather draw a face with character than a mask of perfection.  (The fact that I’m not very good at drawing faces is beside the point – this is a philosophical ramble but don’t worry, I’ll keep it brief!)

There was a piece on the radio recently about a new dating agency for beautiful people only.  In fact there are several – one of them has a long list of banned features, including non-symmetrical faces or bodies, big noses, and wearing out of date fashions. So you can be a cold hearted inarticulate bitch with an ego the size of Milton Keynes as long as you have white even teeth and no centre parting.  Hmmm.  Perhaps the word beauty needs redefining.  A shift of emphasis away from the outer to inner beauty would not go amiss.  Years ago I was told a story of a wise man who asked his student what qualities she would like to see more of in the world.  “Respect, courtesy, humanity, warmth, generosity of spirit, that kind of thing”, she said.  “Well then”, came the reply.  “Put them there!”

Enough rambling, back to wrestling with chapter three – all about coastlines, harbours and rockpools.   I wonder if sea squirts think all other sea squirts are beautiful…… I’m sure they do.

I also gave a talk to the Narberth Museum Friends - just an informal fundraising evening, but great fun.  I did a potted history of marine art, concentrating on the pierhead paintings of the 19th century, painted with the eye of a sailor which put the focus on technical accuracy rather than artistic flair.  I finished off splashing paint around doing a demo of how a pierhead painter of today might tackle a boat portrait, leaving them all trying to get their mouths round the phrase ‘Bristol Channel Pilot Cutter’ without getting their tongues twisted.  Just don’t try it after a few drinks….

Congratulations to Mike Perham on becoming the youngest circumnavigator, in spite of the endless technical problems that are the lot of 21st century solo sailors.  While in Cape Town he met up with a 75 year old Japanese man who is the oldest known round the world solo sailor - in fact he’s on his eighth circumnavigation.  As someone who needs strong seasickness pills, extra socks and the promise of a gentle following wind simply to sail across the Bristol Channel, I have the greatest respect for long distance sailors of all kinds.  

I’m currently enjoying Dee Caffari’s account of her voyage round the world the ‘wrong way’.  In one paragraph she says ‘the wind speed climbed beyond 60 until I had 76 knots across the deck’.  Further on, in the next paragraph, she says ‘the mainsail had to come down’.  That’s impressive.  I’d have had the mainsail down and been cowering in the cabin with a stiff gin in anything over 20 knots.  In fact, I’d have never left the quayside in the first place, being of the opinion that if you light a candle and it stays alight, there’s not enough wind to sail; if you light a candle and it goes out, there’s too much.  Perhaps I should give up sailing and take up flower arranging instead……

Last week drawing board, keyboard and ironing board were all abandoned in favour of bouncing around the Bristol Channel in a small boat.  Very pleasant it was too as the weather was settled enough to let us get to Lundy, on a sparkling clear day with not quite enough wind for perfection but we were grateful to the Azores High for letting us get out of the river.   We saw not one other boat on the 40 mile passage, but were accompanied by more dolphins than we’ve ever known, group after group leaping round our bows. 

Bristol Channel dolphins

 

Torhilda at Lundy