EASEFUL DAYS

7 Sep

Vignette From The Studio & Beyond.

It was dark at 6am when I woke up today. Pulling a well-loved handwoven shawl around my shoulders I walked downstairs, easefully; reminding myself that the good mindset work on my willpower is paying off, skipping the offer of pasta for dinner yesterday was a good choice, scrambled eggs with a side of cucumber was sufficient and nourishing, I knew my body would thank me later.

There was a nip in the air, I pulled the shawl around myself a little tighter thinking about the moment a dear childhood friend gave it to me 36 years ago, it feels like a lifetime ago and just last Wednesday.

I opened the studio patio doors to let Ruben out for his morning business of sniffing out the scents nocturnal visitors leave behind, played a new jazz playlist on Spotify my teenage son introduced me to called Lazy Cat Jazz, it reminds me of hotel lobby and elevator music in the 80’s, I love it, it lowers my heart rate and sets the tone for the day — LoFi cafe vibes is what I like to create in the studio during Autumn.

I began taking the hand torn stacks of paper out of the book press when heard the moka pot bubbling away on the stove. I was excited to try the new Dark Woods Coffee I’d bought in Saltaire village last weekend.

At 6:30 am the sun was just coming up, much later than last week, the thought of dark mornings made me shiver a bit, I made a mental note to stock up on candles as I moved a couple of bindings left on the kitchen table last night. My attention turned to the light streaming through the kitchen window, it’s always delicious this time of year, casting rich filters on objects, creating colours that have taste and texture.

The deep honey glow and indigo blue skies against the yorkshire sandstone of our neighbour’s barn mirrored the clay bowl my eldest son made for his A’level art, I miss him and can’t wait to see him in Rotterdam for the half term break in October, and my 49th birthday celebrations, I’m grateful, nearly the end of a decade of climbing steep hills and traversing through the deep valleys of life.

My mind began to wander as I reached for yesterday’s glue brushes washed and left to dry…

‘‘I do love this bowl, it makes a great still life, perhaps one day I’ll paint it.’’

Ruben’s barking at the postman snapped me out of daydreaming of yet another thing I’d like to try, oil painting in the style of Dutch Masters golden age paintings I saw at the Mauritshuis museum in The Hague.

I took a walk down the dirt track, coffee in hand, to see the spectacular moody Yorkshire sunrise. The air smelt of peat and damp moss, I could see the chimney of the farmhouse at the bottom of the track beginning to smoke; it gave me the urge to bake, so I made wholemeal scones for breakfast. A treat before spending the rest of the morning tearing down stacks of Hahnemüle bamboo paper for the Storyteller writing journals. It’s a slow process that allows open space to think and declutter the mind, I enjoy it.

Tearing down paper and binding journals while listening to hotel lobby jazz and nibbling on a freshly baked scone is a type of meditation, I tell myself.

And so the day unfolded like so…