After yesterday’s long dash from Cardiff to Machynlleth to deliver My Dream Farm, my driving seat adjusted to ‘minimum leg-space’ in order to accommodate the exceedingly large painting crammed in behind me, I was in need of a bit of unwinding with the aid of a cappuccino. (Haven’t been drinking much coffee of late.) So here, as a final farewell to the ‘My Dream Farm posts’ on the Artlog, is the longed-for moment of calm once the painting had been safely deposited at MoMA Wales and hung. The photograph was taken outside the Quarry Café at Machynlleth. I’m behind the camera. There were just the two of us. My companion looks as whacked at the end of the day as I did, though he hadn’t done any of the driving!
Art for Children opens at noon today, and so I must go and get myself ready for that. Jack will be tethered in the little courtyard to one side of MoMA Wales, where if past experience is anything to go by, he’ll reap the benefits of being where people step outside in good weather with plates of the sandwiches always produced at these events. We keep a regular eye on him, but he’s usually surrounded by admirers proffering him tidbits! And afterwards should they go up into the gallery and look very hard at my painting, they’ll find Jack’s likeness… albeit very small… presiding over the comings and goings of My Dream Farm!
congratulations! i hope jack got lots of treats!
What do you think Zoe? (-:
Clive, I hope it is a wondrous day for all, including Jack!
Question about your frequent use of rowan: do you call it mountain ash or one of the many local names? (We have lots of mountain ash in the mountains of North Carolina.)
Mountain Ash is what always springs to my lips when referring to the tree, though I think that Rowan is a very pretty name for it.
There are all sorts of wacky-witchy names for it as well… thought you might have a Welsh wacky-witchy one.
My parents, neither of who spoke Welsh, called it Mountain Ash. My mother invariably referred to the tree’s association with witches. The folkloric traditions of plants were of interest to her, and were passed on to me in my formative years. She said the reason why mountain ash always grew in proximity to hill farms and cottage smallholdings was because it kept witches at bay. I think she believed it too. She was a great one for folklore, my mother. The interest struck a chord with me, because I see quite a few books on my shelves about the etymology of plant names and the folklore associated with flowers and trees. A Culpepper’s Herbal too, acquired long, long ago. The knowledge is buried under a pile of rubble somewhere in my head, and bits drift up occasionally when I’m pottering in the garden. And from my dad I learned about hedgerow foraging. They were both country folk.
Oh yes, mustn’t forget the Mabinogion too. On walks I find myself listing and looking for the ingredients the magicians Math and Gwydion used to conjure the maiden Blodeuwedd. Broom, oak and meadowsweet. These old stories colour everything for the rest of your life. They gave personalities to the wayside flora that never left me.
Hedgerow foraging! You’ll have to write about that some time.
Yes, mothers are often great sources for plant lore. Mine was as well. I wish that I was as well versed as she.
I’ve forgotten more than I remember, though sometimes the most unexpected fragment of arcane knowledge pops to the surface to surprise me!
Wish I were there! Not only would I love to see all the paintings, but Jack must be a total babe magnet.
Yup! Hang out with my dog Dave and the ‘babes’ would flock around to compliment you on his impeccable behaviour, his modest demeanour and his melting eyes. He sat patiently in the courtyard as planned, and visitors and staff queued to greet him and bring offerings from the buffet! He never fails to draw admirers, and those who think that he needs to be consoled for being left outside. I leashed him to an iron balustrade and he sat patiently on the steps accepting all the petting and ear scratching that came his way. Later we went over to Meri Wells’ house so that he could stretch his legs and have a good chase around the grounds. My dog thinks that exhibition openings are petty cool!
I just read comments to the previous post about Phillippa photographing the painting (yay!), and about how tight a fit it was into your car. Congratulations on finishing the painting – it is just beautiful. I do actually see zoe’s nephew’s suggestion of the dream farm being in California. I can imagine the farm being somewhere in Sonoma county, but for me, maybe it is on Île D’Orléans in Quebec. If you do a google search on images of that place, you will quickly see why! I love that Jack has found his way into another of your paintings. He also looks quite at home on that chair at the Quarry Café. Nice that he’ll be accompanying you to MoMA Wales for the opening. I’m sure you’re feeling quite relieved that the race to finish and deliver the painting is now behind you. Have fun at the opening. It will be fun to see the reactions of the other visitors and also the works created by the other artists!
Bev, I’m off to Google Île D’Orleans as soon as I finish here. Thanks for the tip.
Jack is very good in such situations. He sat on that chair quietly while I went in to order my coffee. He wasn’t leashed, but happily waited for me to join him. (As long as he’s on a chair, which is my sign to him that he’s to stay put, he won’t move until I return!) See the above reply to Dave to read about Jack’s experience of exhibition openings at MoMA Wales!
I am relieved that the exhibition is up, not just because my painting for it is at last done and off the easel, but because it was a lot of work for Peter to curate, and all in the limited amount of time that isn’t consumed by his full-time job. But because there are essentially two openings for this exhibition… next Saturday there’s another for the lenders and artists that couldn’t make it this afternoon… we’ll be off to MoMA Wales again a week today, which will mean more sandwiches and sausage-rolls for the ever-receptive and canny Jack! He’s got that ‘my-master-has-left-me-and-I’m-very-very-sad-and-hungry’ look down to a fine art!