Gateway

Penrhos-Feilw K Howell Pastel on Paper 14cm x 21cm

One of the greatest barriers to my obtaining a drivers' licence was a tendency to be distracted by landscape details. Trees. Standing stones. Birds. People. Just about anything outside the car, actually.

But in order to stop for standing stones, you need to be in control of the car, so in the end, it was necessary to keep distraction under restraint to better apply focus.

I love the way standing stones create frames within the landscape. Like ancient figures, marking a gateway. The stature and weight distribution appears anthropomorphic from a distance - their solidity a proper contrast to the whispering grasses.

Standing stones offer a new framework. And a stone circle? Don't get me started...

It was a wet day when I visited these stones; water clung to everything and after wading through the grasses and getting thoroughly wet, the next logical step was swimming in the ice cold Irish sea. With the man-eating jellyfish (They won, in the end. It was a short swim).

Field

Field K Howell 2013 Pastel on Paper 14cm x 21cm

Fields are enchanting. A crowd of grass is about the only crowd I can endure. I like the movement and texture of swathes of moor grasses and reeds, and these clumps emerge like the heads and shoulders of a rising subterranean army.

As a child, I read and reread a book featuring the story of Jason and the Argonauts. To obtain the Golden Fleece from Aeetes, the King of Colchis, Jason drives fire-breathing oxen to plough a field, sowing the teeth of a dragon in the freshly turned soil. An army rises out of the ground, and Jason vanquishes the mass of soldiers by throwing a rock amongst them. In their confusion, the soldiers destroy one another. Brilliant illustration of crowd mentality.

Of course, Jason wouldn't have completed these tasks without the help of Medea. If there's one thing scarier than a crowd, it's a woman whose resourcefulness is disregarded by a man in search of better connections.

There is more snow - I'm off!

Bleak

No Fishing K Howell 2013 Pastel on Paper 14cm x 21cm

I've been neglecting this blog something terrible, but in the hope of returning to some kind of pattern, I'll post something from early January that I left unfinished in order to address Other Things:

Winter without snow still confuses me. I love the stripped landscape, the cold aspect, the shape of the bare world. But a little snow would be nice.

Many rainy days result in liquid paths that stream through the valley, washed out and colourless, like the sky. In a word, Bleak.

The word Bleak is amazing, and I didn't know that it can also refer to a small silvery shoaling fish of the minnow family, found in Eurasian rivers. That distracted me completely, and in the time it took for me to return to the post, we'd had two generous snowfalls.

Complaining to the universe sometimes gets results.

On the Bright Side

Bright Side K Howell 2012 Pastel on Paper 14cm x 21cm

Autumn. A Reduction.

• Taught classes. Killed Clutch on the inside lane of a roundabout (fun). Had a level tow (very fun).

• Traveled by train a bit. It doesn't seem to matter where you go by train in the North West, it takes two hours. On the bright side, it's beautiful.

•  Read Martyn Bedford's Acts of Revision, easily one of the best books I've read lately. 

• Considered Values. Avoided the internet. 

•  Came creeping back, because I like seeing other people's work without traveling two hours by train.

There are so many ways of reducing visual information to essentials - I'm looking for ways of simplifying overall shape, giving weight to colour contrast, juxtaposing stillness with areas of energy and retaining the essential light of the moment.

Winter holds promise. It will snow...

Gravity

Charcoal on Board - very small K Howell 2012

I was thinking of calling this project Fifty Shades of Grave, but I don't think it'll catch on.

I've concluded that monochromatic is the way to go for these - something about the weight of shadow works better. I've yet to find the silvery light I'm after, so I'll pursue that seriously now. And see what works. Definitely an inside job, as the rain pours down.

These forms are grounding, stable. Solid, and yet empty. Full of contradictions. Seriously wonderful to play with.

Dangerously Dysfunctional (Can we fix it?...Yes we can!)

Dangerously Dysfunctional K Howell 2012 Pastel on Paper

I write a lot. What I struggle with (most) is rewriting. Well, rewriting effectively. However. I took copious notes while I was away spending time with words and lovely word-people, because wise words were being flung about. I came back and read the novel that needs rewriting. Saw the naked truth of out-of-sequence reassembly, intermittent failure and parts problems. All of which I knew.

Took said novel apart. Laid out the pieces. Refashioned some parts. And contemplated how to put it back together in a way that would ensure that the engine ran smoothly and accelerated on hills. Re-read the copious notes detailing most excellent advice. Considered my tools. And tried some things.

I then read the most astounding passage. Page 304 of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The narrator discusses internal blocks to affective understanding, or "value traps". He says,

"Of the value traps, the most widespread and pernicious is value rigidity. This is an inability to revalue what one sees because of commitment to previous values. In motorcycle maintenance, you must rediscover what you do as you go. Rigid values makes this impossible." (Robert M Pirsig)

Who, me? Ah. (*&%&^*^%).

It's magic when practical advice is echoed in fiction. I'm documenting this in the hope that it might be useful to someone else.

The Shark in the Cellar

Dogfish - it followed me home!  K Howell 2012 Charcoal on paper

      The smell was an effective reminder. I'd been meaning to draw it since it did a posthumous leap into the sandcastle bucket earlier this summer. But with all the distraction of a week away Writing (!!!!!), it didn't happen right away. The Dogfish Remains patiently continued to decompose in the cellar. Silent, fragile and fragrant.

      But today, at last, we spent some quality time together. I took the shark corpse out on our back drive and did some drawing. We share the drive with a neighbour, in front of whose garage door I had parked myself to draw. To his credit, he didn't bat an eyelid when he came out through the garage and had to negotiate me, my dead fish and children on various arrangements of wheels. I do appreciate my neighbours. All of whom will be pleased to know I've now disposed of the Remains.