The wilderness gaze that snared my heart...

On Saturday I had the most unforgettable experience, one I will cherish for the rest of my life... it was only a few moments, but the spans of heartbeats burned deep into my heart as I locked gazes with Him...

His name is Arthur and he is a Gos Hawk and it was such a priveledge to look him in the eye and feel his weight on my arm. This is something I have wanted to experience for years and I had no idea I would be given this rare chance on Saturday. It was our local town's first Medieval Fayre and of course I went to see the falconer with his beautiful wilderness creatures of the air and his incredible knowledge. I was so excited that he picked me!


I was surprised at how nervous I felt as the falconer strode to the other end of the field and then let him loose. He glided in at head height before skimming low almost touching the grass to then arc back up with curved wings to my glove. He was lighter than I expected and when he turned to study me eye to eye, this wilderness, powerful creature of presence and spirit, I was humbled and awed all at once. It meant the world.

Those of you who read regularly have probebly picked up on my deep love of birds of prey... he had some beautiful birds, the prettiest being this lovely little Lanner falcon...
And of course the most imposing, this regal fellow...


There were also some fantastic medieval musicians at the Fayre playing authentic and extraordinary instruments... you can here some of their music on their website here...


I was fascinated by the workings and sound of this incredible instrument...

We also dressed our shop window for the day to join in with the spirit of the town's first Fayre since the 1950's or 60's, this is how it looked, though it was rather difficult to get decent pictures with all the relflections ...
I have found out that the Falconer whose bird I held for an amazing few minutes also offers hawk handling and flying days, the prospect of which fills me with longing... I will seriously have to start saving up!

Boys and Bees - finished (I think...)

Copyright of Carrie Osborne 2011

Well, I think its about finished... or at least I've come to recognise the point at which carrying on will only make it worse not better! I have a few niggly bits but if I don't point them out hopefully no-one will notice... but on the whole I am pleased with the likeness of the two boys and I hope their Mum will like it!
Here's a few details, sorry about the rather murky photos!



Well, its far too late at night and a stormy wind has galloped up around the house to rush darkly through the rain ragged trees outside. It is way past my bedtime as usual and I'm the only one left awake, so I'll leave you now and say Goodnight!

WIP - Boys and Bees, a portrait for a friend...

I thought I'd show you a bit of 'Work in Progress' that I have been doing today. I think the drawings mostly all in and ready for painting now... This is the portrait I'm doing for my good friend of her boys - I'm pretty certain she doesn't know my blog so the secret should be safe!
It has departed a bit from my original idea that I showed in a post here... I think I'll still do the Dragon roundal at some point but the boys would have been so small in it, and I think that's what was stopping me getting started on it. Sometimes you get stalled for a reason...
Maybe I'll start painting this one tomorrow...

Here's a close up of my elusive hawk in the oak leaves...

And a close up of the boys with the bees...

At last, some more Life Drawing!

2 minute warm up in dip pen and indian ink

A while ago now I lost my evening Life sessions at Stony Street Studios due to low numbers and have really missed it. Drawing the figure is something I have absolutely loved ever since my first life drawing class aged about seventeen in the wonderful old ramshackle Georgian building that was Sydney Place in Bath. It was a rambling maze of corridors and winding stairs, odd little cubby hole studios and huge high ceiling rooms with enormous windows. I learnt a lot in the few weeks I did Life drawing there, but sadly never got to do my Foundation course in that building. The year I went to Foundation college they moved it from Sydney Place with its gardens and beautiful architecture, to the basement of the old Victorian hospital in the city centre that used to be the morgue! No windows! Never mind!

Head study 2 minutes

Anyway, I am really pleased to have found a once a month Life session at Shortcombe Studio, run by an Artist friend of my mums, which will help cure my itchy fingers. It is in a beautiful setting overlooking the Chew Valley lakes, all huge skies and wide open landscapes - next time I will take my camera and show you the view...

So, my first life session in a few weeks - here's the rest of the results...

2 minute dip pen and indian ink

30 second poses

4 minute pose, back to the good old charcoal!

5 minute pose

another 5 minute pose

about 8 minutes for this one I think

10 minute pose

And finally another 10 minute pose...

I did miss the longer poses today and was itching to use my ink and gouche a bit more but its great to have a model to draw again... looking forward to next month!

Man of Iron...

Way back in February Christina of Mermaid in the Attic posted a beautiful recording of a song she has written called 'Through the window'... and has since followed it with more recordings of equally moving and beautiful songs - a lady of many talents indeed!
At the time the faint wind sounds on Christina's recording reminded me of a Sandy Denny song I had not heard for years, but I just couldn't remember the name of it...
Until finally 'Man of Iron' that was it! I've just found a clip of it and listening to it again after all this time still sends shivers down my spine, it is a haunting, powerful song.
So here you are, especially for Christina...

Woodsmoke and whisky, faces in the fire...

Tonight we lit our first Firebowl of the Summer, something I always really look forward to... Fragrant woodsmoke drifting into a pale turquoise sky, the forlorn distant cry of the Peacock who lives in the valley, and the black silhoetted leaves of our Whitebeam that this particular twilight held the faintest wisp pale edge of the newborn Moon between a leafen forefinger and thumb.

How many vaporous faces do you see here in the wreathing smoke? And how many glinting eyes?

We usually sit quietly sipping malt whisky listening to the night sounds unfold as the sky deepens, much like this post of last Summer...

But tonight our eldest daughter joined us for an impromptu exciting late night, so there was much chatting about fires and foxes and not much listening to night sounds! It was lovely to share the fire with her and a shame little sister missed it, tucked up fast asleep indoors exhausted by a busy day of painting and paddling pools!

I was astounded at the pictures my hybrid camera managed... I still haven't learnt how to use it properly, but the more I zoomed in the more abstract and dramatic the images became.

I think many more summer nights of fires and friends must follow...

Totems, Talismans and a challenge...

Reading Jackie Morris' post this morning about the mysterious contents of her beautiful bottle pendant got me thinking on the things we hold precious, about Talismans, Totems and Amulets, and why they should give us strength when we need to hold fast to something...

If you would like to take part in Jackie's intriguing challenge please do hop over to her blog Drawing a Line in Time... and find out all about it...

(picture from Jackie's blog)

As the contents of that mysterious bottle, which struck me as a Talisman, drifted around my thoughts all day I began to remember a vivid Dream I had years ago - a dream of shapeshifting...

At this point I should mention I was thinking about Buzzards. Buzzards have become a very special bird to me over the years... and in my deepest darkest times of turmoil and depression which I suffered for ten years before being gradually persuaded I was worth accepting help, watching the birds soar circling overhead with their wilderness cries and savage joy at the pure elemental freedom of the winds, would calm me and give me strength.
Also in times of intense physical pain, visualising strongly a Buzzard circling effortlessly poised on the winds against a blue, blue sky, would help me rise above the pain and detach myself from it.
But anyway, less of the heavy stuff! Point taken I guess is that Buzzards have become my Totem and my strength...
So back to the Dream...

I began in a thicket, confusing and tangled, I was a crow, my wings torn and constricted until all at once I broke free into sunlit green transformed as a Buzzard on strong brindled wings.

I felt my strength, gloried in my strength, wings muscles beating and an exhilerated joy at the sheer freedom of flight, so vivid.

Then in a heartbeat I was myself, struggling at the base of an impossibly steep green hill, wanting so badly to reach the heights and the clean savage winds, the more my frustration grew the steeper the hill became and the greater my despair.

Another heartbeat and I was again a Buzzard rising on thermals, unfettered and wild circling effortlessly far above the green hill, flying for the sheer glory of freedom. Another beat and I was myself sitting sitting at the summit, feeling the wind thrill through me in exhilerated joy, until finally I flew back the way I came, once more feather clad.

The feeling of flight in the dream was so real, so vivid, it has stayed with me for years... so I guess in an extremely long winded fashion I have come to the contents of Jackie's wonderful bottle!
If I were to wear such a treasure I would wish for an elixir, a spell or potion of shapechanging... whoever should wear it of course would have a different form, their Spirit-guide. My eldest daughter would have the amber quick, fleet fair-footed fox. For me of course a feather, but it would need to be no ordinary feather...
We just happen to have such a feather, a feather of arcane mysteries...

There is a small Griffin who sleeps on our very messy piano guarding a small pot of treasures. We often wonder if he comes alive at midnight to fly around our house in the dark hours, and then one day we found the tiniest, softest brown feather...

So it must be true!

This is what I would keep in the bottle to give me the power to take a brindle-winged form, soar the wide wild winds and glory at the Skysong.

What do you think is in the bottle?