Last Gorse Standing

I have been having a huge amount of fun with texture - there is something deeply satisfying about a bit of knife action! These pieces, in oil and cold wax, are inspired by my walks around Rosewall Hill and Steeple Woods on the outskirts of St Ives, Cornwall.

I walk… a lot. Just me and the hounds getting our daily head space. There's something about the winter that I love; senses seem heightened and colours appear more vivid, crisp and clean. There is great comfort in the solace of wild places. A lonely heart, fear, stress over the state of the world, ill health or money worries can all drag down our spirits. When anxiety and despair grows in us, we need the wildness of the natural world to remind us that there is grace and freedom in the world.

Rosewall Hill forms part of the Penwith Moors. It is covered in a mosaic of heath and scrub with several tors, mineshafts and spoil heaps interspersed with bell heather, gorse and moor grass. Many of the tors - like Monkey Rock - have been eroded by the elements into unusual shapes. This place really makes me feel close to our Penwithian ancestors who developed an urge to move earth and rocks around almost 6,000 years ago in the neolithic age. They must have felt the same awe I feel today as they worked with a wild natural canvas. The views across St Ives Bay to St Michael’s Mount are breathtaking.

Perhaps my favourite painting of this series is Solitude… last gorse standing! I love the bleak romanticism of this little piece. It has such a feel of Wuthering Heights about it.

Steeple Woods is a nature reserve you can literally get lost in. It is home to many old coppiced and pollarded trees whose ancient trunks have taken on odd and interesting shapes.

Does a walk in the woods make anyone else think of those weird humanoid trees in Arthur Rackham’s goblin-haunted fairy tale illustrations?