Am just back from taking my exhibition “Birds in my Life” to Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island. It consists of 26 paintings on cradled wooden panels, in sizes from 8″x10″ to 11″x14″, which all fit nicely into a suitcase, making the move a simple one. It was with great pleasure that I handed my pieces to Iliana Hester, the vivacious artistic director at TOSH (The Old Schoolhouse gallery). I felt very pampered not doing a thing until arriving back two days later for a busy opening with an enthusiastic audience, live piano music, and sunlight pouring in the windows. I am now back home – until March 15th when I go return to collect the pieces.
A wonderful four day holiday in sunshine every day, with delightful new people. No new drawings but a promise to post fortnightly from now up, whilst at home.
At the end of my travels, I sit drawing, in a peaceful garden in Pinamar unwinding with a pencil, thinking about Salta and all I have seen. Next day, with paints I sit under this pine, listening to parrots chattering and squawking. These small green birds are wild. In summer, they party in a cherry tree once lower branches are picked and fruit has begun to ferment. The result: rowdy drunken parrots falling onto the lawn; their large messy nests must be filled with hung-over birds.
“Bajo la luz y se llevo todo.” The light dimmed and everything was swept away … when a storm washed out the road to Tilcara. The intense reds and ochre are complimented by the greens, make the land sing. Yet as I celebrate these colours, I am told this is a harsh, challenging place to live.
We climbed up from Purmamarca: Purma atop – marca is settlement. Mesas here are eroded into gothic cathedral-like shapes. They are bare of animals, we are told. Ines is sitting quietly in the back. At the summit, I ask how she is doing. OK, she smiles but she has a touch of siroche. Selfishly I feel fine.