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| work in progress 2026 |
Happy New Year!
I am sitting at my work table in the studio to write this. I am looking out of the windows to the sky. The sun is casting shadows on the buildings around me. I see planes flying into the city over the Forth, I telepathically welcome them. Seagulls gather on roof tops. I am surrounded by my paint, pencils, charcoal, pastels and brushes. All of my available art from the last 11 years is in one place and under the same roof as me and that feels good.
I worked yesterday and today in my studio - filled with the "begin the year as you mean to go on" spirit. Filling the pages of an old photo album with mark making and collage. Collage has always been foundational to my work, even though I don't like getting glue on my fingers. It's a good starting point.
We've made it through the holidays, the first without my dad. There are many people missing - loss seems to cling to the years but we carry on.
I don't really want to write a year end review blog for 2025. Maybe this is why. The thought of it seems heavy and complicated.
So, I make another cup of tea, plug in my sunshine lamp, eat some dark chocolate and play music on my big headphones instead.
I will get around to the year end review post eventually (because I am a creature of habit and superstition) but not today. I will write it when I am ready - that's how I work, I move slow and then I move fast.
I have been thinking about what I want my art to say and mean in 2026. I don't usually think like that as it seems a bit prescriptive but I thought it could be a good exercise. I usually make art as a necessary exorcism or as a reaction to outside forces.
A pal sends a message: the sun is out and it would be good to get out and away from the screen. I leave my blog and make a mad dash out the door.
It was very cold but bright out. We had mediocre coffee in a dark and divey cafe but we had some top notch laughs. I also noticed bunches of somewhat sad daffodils for sale in the shops - it's too soon, but it is good to remember spring is around the corner. I took photos of the shadows.
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| Sunshine on number 55 |
Once back home, I noticed that there was still a good amount of light left at 4pm.
Now, I can hear the wild wind outside playing my bamboo chimes, and this is where I am going to leave you on this first Friday of January 2026 - squarely in the now.
With peace and gratitude from my wintering heart to yours.
