How Does A Journey Influence Your Work

When I return from a journey, I let the experience wash through me, not knowing what effect it will have on my work. I just begin to work, and after I have a few paintings under my belt, I stand back to see what's happening. Then I realize that it could be a colour I saw that influenced me or the lines on the standing stones, or even something someone said to me.

I always find that I am slow to really settle into a trip, especially when it requires that I paint. For me, painting is about place; my relationship with the place I am in. In his new book: The Old Ways, A Journey on Foot, Robert MacFarlane says that "the two questions we should ask of any strong landscape are these: firstly, what do I know when I am in this place that I can know nowhere else? And then, vainly, what does this place know of me that I cannot know of myself?"

I painted in the beautiful artist residency at Cill Rialaig in Ireland last November, but I also needed the second part of my journey-at the Abbey in Iona- to spend the time in contemplation rather than intensely working and trying to quickly digest the landscape as I was doing in Ireland. I learned that I just need to walk to feel the land where I am. I'm even wondering if painting during a residency is necessary for me, or if I need to spend time just walking, absorbing and thinking thoughts that I may not have at home.

The second part of my journey that I spent on the island of Iona, in Scotland-away from my paints-afforded me the time to walk up and down the wild beaches, collecting stones, listening to the surf and contemplating--thinking about my work and my life. How little value we put on this.

I remember reading a story about Joseph Campbell. My memory of the story goes like this: Campbell and his wife had rented a small country home for a few months. A neighbour looked over the fence to see Campbell reading and said to him, "Oh, I see you are taking a break from work". Campbell replied, "No, I'm not taking a break, I'm working". Another time the neighbour again looked over and saw Campbell chopping firewood and said, "Oh I see that you're working now". Campbell replied, "No, I'm taking a break".

When I came home from my trip in early December. I went into my studio to take a look at the work I had done before I went away. You look at your work with fresh eyes when you see it again after being away for several weeks. It felt clear to me that I should continue in the direction the work was going. As the series is developing since the trip, it has changed slightly. It has become even quieter and softer. And with the increasing chaos in the world -the drastic weather changes, noise, media-bombardment, the violence-in Syria, in India, in Sandy Hook and here at home as well, I am more committed to working in a way that speaks of finding a still quiet centre.

Liminal Time

The word liminal comes from the Latin, limen meaning threshold. an in-between place, a place of transition, a time of waiting and not knowing. Dawn and dusk are considered liminal places. Crepuscular animals, like foxes and coyotes are most active at this time of day, a time that is considered a magical time in Celtic spirituality and to Indigenous people which is perhaps the origin of their designation as tricksters. As I write this, the northern hemisphere has just passed the vernal equinox, where day and night are of equal length.We are in a liminal space between winter and spring right now, unsure if we will have one more storm or snowfall before spring finally settles in. We're also in a liminal place as we live through this pandemic with the anxiety and discomfort of not knowing. A time of great transition for the entire world, wondering what we've learned from this and what lessons we'll carry forward. Author and Fr...

Lessons that Stone Walls Teach

Dry stone wall in the Burren, Co. Clare, Ireland I've just returned from teaching a Workshop in Wild Places class in the Burren in County Clare, Ireland. Writing this post, I'm reminded of another post I wrote after visiting Inishmaan, the middle of the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland several years ago. Stone walls crisscrossed the island in tight webs like a fisherman's net. I wrote then that the web of stone walls made me think of the idea of putting limitations on our painting as a way of exploring more deeply and how walls give limits against the limitless. You can read that article here. As our group hiked in the Burren with our guide, Marie McGauran we learned that the walls are stronger because of the holes in them. The wind can pass through. The oldest stone walls, estimated to be 3500 years old are at Skara Brae, a Neolithic site in Orkney. Most walls were built in the 18th and 19th century, marking areas of private ownership and resultin...

Am I Too Old to Change? Embracing Life

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels I'm in the process, at last, of working on the book that came to me in a dream seven years ago. It has circled my head all these years, demanding I get at it. It's called: We're Not Done Yet: Coming to Art Later in Life . It has actually hung in the air a couple of feet behind my head, attached by a string like a helium balloon, like a cartoon cloud, waiting for me to get to it. Some of you will know of it because I posted a request on Facebook in 2019 asking for artists who have come to art later in life to reply to me if they'd like to answer a questionnaire. I received 168 responses plus earlier interviews I did before the put out the questionnaire. There was some overlap, and some didn't respond after they'd offered to. All in all, I received 128 responses. By a huge majority it was women who responded to my questionnaire. By the time we get into our 60's we bring a rich life experience to our work: m...

Janice Mason Steeves

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