Rest in Power

At a march and rally for Scottish independence in 2019

I was lucky to have Pat Bremner in my corner and in my life. Pat was a dedicated arts and culture lover and an engaged independence supporter. Perhaps more importantly to me personally, Pat was beyond loving and thoughtful when she welcomed me into her family with openness and care. I will always be grateful for the inclusion I felt in her company. 

We enjoyed films and lunch dates in the city, political marches and rallies, a bit of "Call the Midwife" back in the day and of course genealogy and "Who do you think you are." She took me to Women for Independence meetings. We visited the House of Records, the National Library and genealogy societies always looking for information on my "brick wall" which Pat invested an incredible amount of time in helping me try to tear down. I could tell her with excitement about new genealogy discoveries and knew she would be excited too. She took me to Holyrood Palace and hosted a Scottish Night at her house to immerse me in the culture. Quiz games were hosted over delivered Chinese food and laughs and chats about anything and everything were commonplace pre-pandemic. Flowers, plants, cards, and thoughtful gifts for special occasions and just because pepper my memories.

She was a champion of my work attending most exhibitions and open studios if they were accessible. She was an avid collector and patron. She was invested in me as an artist but also as a person unconditionally and her love and compassion meant the world.

Her last present to me was a big teacup with a painting of the poet Maya Angelou on it and a quote by her that reads, "If you are always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be."

Thank you Pat for loving and seeing me, and for all you gave to the world with your bright heart and compassionate spirit. You are deeply missed. 

Wild and complicated

This week in the studio was a challenge, however, I did stick to my schedule and in fact, I put in just a little extra time in the studio on Wednesday as well. So I have managed to go to my studio at least twice a week for the past three. I am just trying to get back into the habits of showing up, being in the space, and sharing the space with my studio mate who has been there since May. I wasn't expecting any hard or serious work but then a flood of portraits came forward. I got excited, and suddenly I was expecting things of myself, my work and my time in the studio. That is a pressure that I just don't need and especially when I am trying to build habits with compassion for myself and the process. I don't want to be a machine anymore or approach this time with harsh rules, but unfortunately, it is so easy to let that part of my brain take over.

Anyway- this is a long way of saying - there were really no "good" portraits this week - maybe one or two - but definitely not six. You can see and hear my frustration during the Tuesday Studio Video Visit this week.

 

One from this week that might work

A lovely patron gifted me with a collection of canvases this week, and so with feeling the frustration of the faces not materialising, I decided to get out one of the largest canvases, a linen 80x100cm and have a go at painting a good old abstract painting.

A fevered energy took over and I bashed out a muted abstract in greys, blacks, and ochres. I messaged a dear painter friend, "is this a painting?" I decided it was (for now) and it certainly captured the atmosphere of the day.

Soon after I stopped painting, I heard the Queen was gravely ill. I packed up my stuff as I strangely felt the urge to get myself home.

I listened to the news during the rainy bus ride and turned on the BBC once through the door. I respectfully sat up on the sofa when they confirmed the news of her death. What a long and full life.

In my UK citizenship ceremony two years ago this month, I made an affirmation - a solemn, and sincere oath to be faithful and allegiant to her Majesty, her Heirs and Successors. Every immigrant who becomes a citizen in this country has gone through this ritual. And all of those naturally born in this country are born subjects. 

Life is filled with such wild and complicated moments.

A vintage postcard I was given while on my citizenship path.
Stapled to the back of the studio closet door.