A real blizzard
Friday 14th February
This is the view from my window this morning - no view. And here is a little bit of film from other windows around the house that are not in direct fire from the snow and wind. (I'm not sure if it will play so will try to load onto Vimeo later and put up a link))
We are in an orange alert situation. All night the wind has been blowing hard – whining around the house in gusts. Confined to the house – told not to venture out. I’m not sure how strong the wind is, but we had difficulty opening the front door just to peek out. There’s a glimmer of sun as if it’s defying the storm that’s raging around us. Everything’s on shut down, roads closes, planes cancelled. I think the south side is getting it even worse than we are in the north.
Every so often there is a lull for a few minutes as if the wind is pausing for breath, gathering strength before blowing even harder. Snow drifts through the air. I wonder where that flock of tiny back and white birds goes on these occasions. The snow plough has been out all morning, just going round and round the town constantly clearing – what a guy. There’s little else out on the roads. It’s a very white world. I feel like I’m in an episode of Trapped; just hope there are no murders. The wind is due to calm down late tonight so maybe a chance for a mad dash to the studio – just to get out of the house.
Looking out now the sun is shining, and the snow has stopped…. spoke too soon.. more snow sweeping past.
Later.. I took some photos of the snow falling and being blown by the wind caught in the street lights
I’m sitting in my room drawing/painting, music playing, eyes flicking to glance out the window where it’s cleared, tea and my book to hand while waiting for paint to dry. More cars moving about now, but the wind is still whistling and banging into the walls. Every so often a chunk of ice slides down the window and crashes on something below.
We escape! Four of us can stand it no longer and we rush to get dressed up in all our foul weather gear and triumphantly walk to the studio. It's not so bad outside now. So I sit and do email and write you this blog.
Now back in my room lying in bed I notice that it’s finally quiet outside.
Drawings and paintings speak to each other; drawings and paintings I made yesterday and last month and last year affect the way I am making drawings and paintings now. I’m in a new landscape so new material presents itself, but I cannot escape from the others that I have and still do inhabit. I’m dealing with marks that I am aware are continuums from other mark-making and from which I cannot break away. I’m looking at a new landscape but maybe looking and picking out the same sort of elements, making the same sort of gestural responses that I would in the other landscapes I work in. I’m not sure if this is inevitable, whether it’s good, or whether I’m just not challenging myself enough. Perhaps former work nourishes the new. And I’m probably talking rubbish so I’ll stop and go to sleep. I have some photos of my latest drawing but will put them up another time