WHERE I AM

What strange times we are coping with. I live in a wonderful place, with Ilkley Moor outside my window, and the Yorkshire Dales National Park (YDNP) just up the road. I can easily walk on the former, but I never thought there would be a time when I couldn’t visit the latter; what a frustration that is.

(view from Addingham moorside above Ilkley, looking up Wharfedale)

But, like everyone right now, I must be patient.

And my ‘QUEST’ to explore and paint all the named Dales of the YDNP is going to have to take a little pause.

The QUEST (which I started a few years ago) is a fabulous task. I have been loving it!

Finding new nooks and crannies of the YDNP is a joy: new footpaths, new vistas, new contours. Taking time to consider what makes these places unique, each one a special experience.

In the last couple of years I’ve explored the area around Upper Swaledale, finding some wild and glorious places: Great Sled Dale, Little Sled Dale, Whitsundale, Birkdale. I was able to visit the area several times, and collected wonderful experiences to paint during our first lockdown.

I also walked in lower Bishopdale – what a contrast! Full of intense, lush farmland at the bottom of the valley where it widens and joins Wensleydale. I joyfully used a very different palette when I painted it last summer…

And then I explored Cotterdale. (Again off Wensleydale, further north west). At first it was quite a puzzle to pin down its character, but after a day walking and checking the map I found Cotter Force. Oh wow! Mesmerising. And what a great challenge: to capture moving water.

Such variety in the YDNP.

Last summer I found more tributaries at the top of Swaledale (it has so many!): West and East Stonesdale are near the hamlet of Keld; full of improbable farms and scattered barns. These hardy buildings withstand the weather over many many decades, reminding me to stay strong and withstand this strange season too.

Uldale is even higher to the west; near the border with Cumbria. Here there is a dry river bed and remote wilderness – a stunning place. It is currently on my easel.

But there it stops.

No more Dales to paint until I can visit the YDNP again. And that certainly feels very strange indeed.

Of course, there are many photos available on the internet; probably some of the specific Dales I have yet to explore and paint; you might even have some you could send me (please do! I would love to see them!). So why can’t I base my paintings on these?

My aim for all of my paintings is always to offer something MORE than the contours, MORE than an accurate depiction, MORE than the scene the camera captures. I try to also offer the sense of joy of being in the place; its changing weather; its moving light; the feel of the ascent, the wonderment.

In order to do this I need to feel it for myself, experience it for myself, walk in it myself. Any photos I take or sketches I make are reminders – I need to have created them myself for it to work. As I prepare a painting I spread all these pieces of information out on a table and recall the time I was there. The wind in my hair; the weight of my backpack; that stand and stare moment.

I need that reconnection. Without it I cannot know what is important to enhance in my composition; what I need to keep in and what can be left out. What shape the painting must take; what mood the palette should have; what volume the colours must be….

And so, this is where I am. The very last of my collected experiences now on the easel.

And I’m letting it take time.

I have the unusual luxury of time to experiment a little (I am playing with different surfaces to work on); and the luxury of time to walk locally (I might be painting Ilkley Moor again soon!); and am mindfully enjoying these.

I will keep waiting patiently.