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

Whilst I complain about the complexity of life and how many directions it pulls, I do have the kind of brain that thrives on working on several projects at once.  Some might say I have the attention span of a three year old, but this is a useful asset when working in watercolour as it means that you can lay a wash, put it to one side to dry, pull out another one and slap some colour on that, start something new, wander off to check emails whilst that’s drying, go and make a cup of tea, try to avoid having a biscuit, fail, have two biscuits, wander back into the studio, think of another idea for a painting, splash some more paint on the first painting…….  and I am still trying (but mainly failing) to put some time aside each day for the sea stories book which involves regular excursions into the internet - butterfly brain heaven.  One day I’ll achieve something, if I live long enough!

Work in progress - Restoration Project

The Circumnavigators

 How about this for a table mat design?  I haven’t found anywhere that prints round mats yet, but I’m looking.  It shows the history of round the world sailors starting with Slocum…. told you I had a strange brain.

Night sail - one of the new small prints. Simple but effective!

A slap on the wrist for taking so long to post an update.  One excuse is that I’ve been sidetracked by the blog’s more frivolous cousin, facebook; sketches that should have been put on here have been diverted to brighten up my facebook page.  It’s been a busy few weeks at the drawing board – the design for next year’s planner is ready and at the printers (yes, I know it’s only July, but we have to think ahead), the long thin paintings that featured a few posts back are now available as unframed prints (I’ve been reminded to mention where to buy the print – it’s at www.starfishbooks.co.uk) and I’m onto the second of two new teatowel designs to be ready for the Southampton Boat Show.  There have also been some enjoyable outdoor sketching sessions recently, including a final session with my art group here in Llawhaden, sketching the castle in the last of the hot days before the weather reverted to type.

The sailing story book is not forgotten – I’ve been sneaking a bit of time each week to work on a few of the stories and their illustrations, so more on that later.  I just have to keep reminding myself  it’s not necessarily the people with most time on their hands who get books written!

Pembrokeshire is beguiling in the sunshine.  I spent the afternoon at Sandy Haven with my watercolour class, having bullied them into trying sketching outdoors instead of always working from photos.   There’s something surprisingly absorbing about sitting on a wet patch of sand splashing paint on the page, focussed on the subject, timeless.  Everyone else enjoyed it too – at least it builds confidence.

Sally J at Sandy Haven

Spending a day in a sea scout hut in Milford Haven may not sound like a bundle of joy, but take a roomful of lively U3A students and one watercolour tutor on a mission (me) and a great time was had by all.  Well, I enjoyed it anyway (and got paid for it!).  It was a very mixed ability group, so we dipped in an out of dozens of subjects – the magpie approach, hoping there would be something for everyone.

It amazes me how people have a different attitude to art to, say, learning a musical instrument.  With music, you don’t buy a piano, try and play a Beethoven concerto and when you fail say ‘there, I knew I didn’t have musical talent!’  You get lessons, do easy stuff to start with, do lots of scales.  But with painting, people buy the kit, have a go, fail and then say they don’t have talent.  All that’s needed is for someone to show them how, followed by plenty of easy stuff and scales.  For painting, ’scales’ means trying out different colour mixes, brushstrokes, ways of laying on the paint.  Producing a complex finished painting is the equivalent of that concerto!  Talent is the cherry on the cake… but first you need to bake the cake.  Sorry, way too much ranting…… time to calm down and top up the wine glass.

Getting ready today to do a watercolour workshop to U3A in Milford Haven tomorrow, choosing subjects that will hopefully be useful to a group containing both experienced and beginner painters.  I decided that colour theory should definitely be on the list – it may sound a bit dull but I never fail to be excited by the way in which three bright colours mix together to make such gloriously natural neutrals.  Mixed greys are so useful when painting landscapes; if you’ve ever sat on a beach trying to work out what colour the rocks are, you’ll know what I mean.  The truth is that all the colours are in there, an effect you just can’t get from a tube of good old paynes grey.  Colour mixing is one of life’s marvels……. well, I’m easily pleased!

I went to an inspirational lecture today by maritime art expert and historian James Taylor on the voyage of the Beagle, full of the small detail and human story that bring history to life.  It’s a fascinating tale of unsung seamanship – imagine manoeuvring square rigged engineless ships for months on end in the Patagonian channels with inaccurate charts – and history in the making (some guy called Charles Darwin happened to tag along….).  In those days all sailors were taught to draw and paint, not for fun but because there were no cameras, and they needed an accurate record of landfalls and pilotage information.  For much of the trip Beagle had not one but two artists, which shows how important the job was in a boat only 90′ long….  enough for now, but thanks, James – the best stories are true ones!

Meanwhile, back in the real world we 21st century wimps found a weekend camping in the rain at Beale Park Boat Show a bit of a trial.  Losing money and getting wet – two of my least favourite things all at once!  The rain kept visitors away until sunday when the sun finally shone and I got to play with my coracle on the lake.  Ah well, it could have been worse.  I could have been a 19th century sailor on a surveying trip on the Beagle in Tierra del Fuego.