I have just finished Red Anemones in Olive Grove and have captured the saturated colour and warm sunshine I so craved at mid-winter. If you are suffering winter blues I hope it warms you too. http://amandarichardsonartist.com/content/red-anemones-olive-grove
In Porthleven last week I bought my new Studio Hat. This, together with black fur ski boots, is keeping me cosy. Unless it gets really cold, wearing many thermal layers is my answer to winter. I had great fun trying on hats, and for anyone finding themselves in Cornwall, do go to the Saltcellar Workshops. http://saltcellarhats.co.uk/Collections.html
The red anemones are flourishing beneath the ancient olive tree. Amazingly the last flower of the bunch I bought four weeks ago has just faded.
The Podolico cows of Southern Italy roam free in the landscape. How I wish all cattle had this experience, it was a joy to witness. You can listen to their bells as they walk through the spring landscapes of the Gargano Peninsula.
Viewing a textile collage from the top of the image allows me to see the tonal values as they will be when hung. With this olive grove with anemones I can judge the effect of light and shade across the landscape.
The rich surfaces and light reflection of my textile collages are particularly suited to creating the dynamic qualities of moving water. The wave curves through deep sea-greens and teal then crashes in intricately cut foam of silk, satin and velvet.
The ancient olive tree is taking shape with hand-dyed satins and velvets being added to the silks. I find this mixing of textures and surfaces brings life to a collage.
Perhaps an odd choice for New Year's Day but The Helston Packet recently published a section titled 'Step Back in Time' and there I was. They claimed it was 1987 but my best guess is 1979. We lived in a lovely old cottage made of cob (mud, straw and animal hair). Honeysuckle wound around the porch and would stray through my open window in summer. After we had left it was discovered the honeysuckle had been dining on the cob walls, clever thing.
Anemones are massing on my work table, each scarlet flower a promise of spring.
These silks have been dyed and patterned for the trunk of an ancient tree that has been split and bleached by many seasons.