These three villages Landimore, Llanrhidian and Llanmadoc, are on the northern side of Gower, away from the busy beaches of Caswell, Three Cliffs Bay, Oxwich and Port Eynon. The “Llan” part of the place names originally refered to an enclosed area of land- usually a church or monastic cell. Landimore is the English version of the placename, in Welsh it is “Llandimore”. I liked the challenge of painting these lesser-known Gower villages (I am sure they are very well-known to the locals) especially the Britannia Inn at Llanmadoc from high up!
I am taking a break from landscape painting for a few weeks. I feel the need for a change in direction; so I am revisiting an old muse – the urban but in a new medium. It’s both thrilling and scary.
Three Cliffs Bay never disappointed. It did not matter how many times I saw it. The sight of it always caused me to catch my breath; when I saw it from the road, from the slopes of Cefn Bryn or from Pennard Cliffs.
It is one of the things I miss about living in South Wales. I imagine it in sunshine, although I am pretty sure the Summer in Wales this years has been as poor as it has been in Ireland. It may well improve. Septembers were often best for sunshine. Just as the schools had gone back!
Here’s me posing with the painting! – Sunny Morning Haze on Three Cliffs Bay (Gower)
I used to get up early in the morning and drive down to Pennard to walk along the edge of the golf course, past the dog walkers, to see the sea and take photos. This is a new painting (see above).
Once I found an excellent parking spot opposite the corner shop in Pennard, only to find I had forgotten to put the battery in my camera. I wasn’t carrying a spare. So, I had to drive all the way back to Swansea to fetch the battery. The journey seemed to take forever (as I cursed my stupidity all the waythere and back) but when I got back the conditions were still lovely.
It was low tide and you could see the river, the Pennard Pill, at its meandering best. When you first come to Three Cliffs you assume you can easily cross the Pill in your bare feet. You can at the shoreline but it get deeper quite quickly. There are stepping stones further up stream. In boot-wearing weather, its a short walk inland to cross at the stones. My painting (see below) Two Rock, Three Cliffs is near to the stepping stones.
We didn’t get an “Indian Summer” in September, which when we usually get one in Wales. What we have had, instead, is a series of sunny days in late October/early November. The sparkling autumn light is stunning. From a painter’s point of view is more interesting than summer light. So last week I drove down to Three Cliffs Bay to enjoy the light. I was surprised by the dark blue of the calm sea. It was quite a different colour from the summer sea.
Three Cliffs Autumn Light
I was hoping that there would be plenty of orange bracken and there was. Not on the slope of the the Three Cliffs, as they are covered in grass, but on the slopes of Cefn Bryn, in distance.
Painting of Pobbles Bay, Three cliffs, Gower
These colours sum up the Welsh landscape for me. In fact, I think I like the Welsh landscape in autumn/winter best. The red and the green of the bracken and the grass also put me in mind of the red and the green of the Welsh flag.
Welsh Flag (an interpretation)
Light on Great Tor (Gower)
I find it ironic that there’s less light around but its better quality, from an artists’ point of view. I still have not adjusted to the clocks going back last month, and I am still waking at 5 -5.30am! It does not seem to matter what time I go to bed, I awake in the dark feeling ready to rise. So I get up and here I am tapping away at my computer in the dark waiting for the sun to rise. Soon I will have to get my SAD lamp out to stop the slow slide in winter gloom. Before, you ask, yes, SAD lamps work for me.
Does anyone else suffer from this problem? Does anyone have any tips for sleeping in later?
Update: I sat with my SAD lamp on for 20 minutes around 7 pm last night and it seemed to help me go back to sleep when I awoke at 4.30 am, and I didn’t get that “wake up” surge of hormones til 6.30. A definite improvement.
I am delighted to have sold this painting, Three Cliff Reflections, to a collector in Scotland. As is so often the case, the collector has a connection to the location in the painting, having visited it and climbed to the top of the peaks quite recently. I hope that the painting brings back happy memories of the summer.
As a painter, I feel that I have succeeded if I my work can provoke an emotional reaction. I would feel that I had gone wrong somewhere if someone said “that’s interesting” or “it’s technically skillful” about one of my paintings. Not that there’s anything thing wrong with being skillful, I just don’t want it to be the first thing they say.
They don’t have to be entirely happy emotions, either. I once had a friend who said a painting of mine, “Park Bench in the Snow” made her want to cry.
Park Bench in Snow
I am not sure why she wanted to cry, I think she said something about it reminded her of the film “It’s a Wonderful Life”. That film always makes me cry too. Mind you, I was particularly fond of this painting and was pretty sad when I had to part with it. I didn’t cry though. I do have favourites, and this was one.
Quite a few of my people portraits have a bitter-sweet quality to them as I am drawn to the fragility or vulnerability of the sort of people who are frequently overlooked by our instagram obsessed society.
Brief Encounter
Or amusing quality, I hope. I like observing little moments that are easily missed. Like these two children at the Uplands markets examining an old manual typewriter.
What does it do?
I also like watching for moments between dogs and their owners, in particular.
Just a Second
Back to Three Cliffs Bay. This painting “Human Concern” (below) was based on a scene I observed at Pobbles Bay, last summer. Pobbles Bay is right next the Three Cliffs Bay. The little Jack Russsell stood and watched his humans off in the sea, with such intensity. It amused me. I also found it very touching.
