Here are links to the ICE talks I’ll be part of next Friday 14th October in York.

https://jacksonteed.files.wordpress.com/2016/09/ice-brochure-lr.pdf

https://jackson-teed.com/2016/09/15/ice-friday-talks/

I’ll be speaking about my life as an artist, my work, what feeds my practice….

  Sharing the Animal Eye

  Sitting quietly like an Animal, turning blood to Milk…

On October 1st I braved the weather and donning waterproofs, rucksack and easel, I made my way into the Gardens at Tremenheere. (Nr Gulval, Penzance TR20 8YL)

Here are a few images from their website:

and here are a few of my photos:

I spent some time sitting quietly tuning into the feeling of the place. I needed to settle, be still, and wait. I could sense the hands of the people who have worked that land over centuries. They were gnarly, old, bright and light also, weaving their fingers in amongst the plants. They shone through the damp morning.

I had bought a postcard book, I thought I’d walk and draw, making a little document of my afternoon. The rain and mud I wanted to work with changed the scale. I made notes, further drawings.

  The Garden as a sleeping Creature…

   The Garden as a sleeping Creature first drawing…

    Sky Navels over Tremenheere…

Here is the link to the shows at Dean Clough this winter, all opening October 15th at noon…

http://online.flipbuilder.com/nfoq/wcut/

I’m feeling excited!

I’m delighted that this work My Dog keeps watch when I pray has been selected for The Black Swan Open in Frome, this autumn…

It was inspired by relationships I’ve had with the dogs in my life, and visits to Norcia in Italy, where I’ve spent time in churches , where Benedictine monks pray and sing bending from the waist in supplication and humility.

  Watercolour on gesso-prepared paper, 2016.

Here is the link to the a-n page:

https://www.a-n.co.uk/news/travel-bursaries-a-n-awards-support-extraordinary-and-inspirational-research

and I’m currently writing my blog about my trip; it’ll be published soon I hope!

Here are a few photos which bring back memories of my wonderful trip :

    Two sheep, North Uist

  At The Pier Arts Centre, Stromness

  On the beach, with a seal bottling,near Skara Brae, Orkney

  Beside The ring Of Brodgar, Orkney

I’ve just finished co-writing – with Professor Penny Florence –  a chapter of the book which has developed from  the Fallen Animals conference at Aberdeen University in March 2015.  Here are the details:

…but to whet the appetite, here is an extract by Professor Penny Florence, which she wrote in response to my work Spirit Horse…

The culmination of this wonderful re-creation of bodies into the humanimal, for me, is embodied in Spirit Horse (Fig. 14). Space in the painting is not representational, but it’s not abstract, either. The dramatic band of sanguine that constitutes about a third of the picture, together with the indeterminate boundaries of the bodies, brings alive the idea of ‘becoming animal’[i], which can be understood in many complementary ways. These include the expression of soul, which is invoked in the position of the horse’s head outside the darker area, and shadowed or echoed in the lines and shapes above and around it. The acceptance of how much more like than unlike animals we are leads to re-locating humanity in a cosmos that is both more mobile and more connected. In Rilke’s terms, by passing through the horse’s head, its face in the sense of its being, we might stop looking at ourselves, and so stand a chance of glimpsing what exists, beyond.

[i] Rather than pointing specifically to one of the many references to the concept of ‘becoming-animal’ in Deleuze & Guattari’s writings, this refers more closely to Elizabeth Grosz, Chaos, Territory, Art, NY, Columbia, 2008.  Her comment that, “art after painting, can be seen as the action of leaving the frame, of moving beyond, and pressing against the frame, the frame exploding through the movement it can no longer contain” (p.18) is a good example of how she brings Deleuzian thought to bear on art that initiates “harmonious vibration” (p.19).

And I’m very excited about my solo show at Dean Clough, in the Mosaic and Upstairs Galleries, opening October 15th, early afternoon. On the 14th October I’ll be giving a talk on building a career as an artist at the New Schoolhouse Gallery, at lunchtime… I’ll have works to show and catalogues to view…all welcome!

Here is the Vimeo link to a film (recorded by my son, and generously edited by my friend Karen Lorenz) about my solo show at Newlyn Art Gallery December 2012. It includes fragments of the talk I gave about my work, and James Green’s introduction. It also includes footage of my two lovely dogs, Frankie and Missis Darling, both now sadly passed away.
https://vimeo.com/73134126

In the film fragments of me in the garden with the dogs I think you can see the nature of the bond which I try to realise in my paintings.

 Dusk, Lochmaddy

Every night  since I returned to my home in Cornwall a week ago I have dreamed of being in either the Hebrides or Orkney. I have awoken each morning with a sense of that space, lightness,  intense colour, and clean air. That sense of having lightness all around (even in the rain) is powerful and lingers in my consciousness. There is also the scent of peat, of hillsides of heather in bloom, the salty breath of seaweed and tide.

I returned from Scotland with peat which I had dug out of the sides of banks with my fingernails. Just two tiny bags of the dense black stuff which I want to get into my drawings, to help me return to that sense of earthy connectedness which down south I cannot seem to find so readily.

On North Uist and on Lewis I saw strips of peat cut into the hillsides. I saw peat stacked in blocks as it has been for centuries. I walked the pathways of the peat cutters. I walked past lichen – the raw materials of the palette of Harris Tweed weavers – and I felt the colour of peat-seep-blood-sea,  milky serpent-breast-sea, blue-sky-sea, cloud-billowing-sea, lime-algae sea, yellow-petal-impossible-colour-blooming-sea, grass-orange sea coming into my veins as I stood in the weather, water beneath my feet.

  North Uist

 Aird Uig, Lewis

  Peat stack, N. Uist

I worked with the rain in my face and the sun on my head making drawings. The wind prevented large scale work so I focused on the heart of what I was experiencing to make drawings in sketch books.

 Peat birds

Every day on Lewis and Harris I saw golden eagles. One morning a large paddle-winged eagle flew low over my tent.

I would lay in bed in my tent every morning and listen to the wing beats of ravens. They would fly low when no people were about. There was a particular quality to the sound of their wings pushing air down, with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

One large raven often flew with its beak open. I stood and watched them. On the enormous expanse of Ardroil Sands the ravens flew circles and called to each other. They were always there. They are still there now.

  Hebridean creature

 colour drawing page

  sea drawing page

swan cloud page

  soft paws of mountains page

  double page

  Harris Sea, dusk

  writing, landscape

  colour, page from book

  Embedded Eye, after Calanais Stones

I  recently received a book which I’ve wanted for some time. It was sent by a friend who has gone to teach in Kyrgyzstan. I met him in the hostel on Iona, last October, before I travelled to London to be AIR at NOA at The RCA.
On that damp and windy morning we walked the mile together to the ferry, and spoke about our respective life journeys, and our work, and books which have been important to us.
We continued to speak on the ferry to Oban, then he went north to Aberdeen, and I went to London. I haven’t seen him since, but we have corresponded occasionally via email. I’ve spoken about aspects of my work which are close to my heart, and he has always responded with great generosity and kindness, which I’ve appreciated very much.
When I returned from The Hebrides there was a heavy parcel for me waiting at home. It contained a number of books which he sent to me, as he could only take a tiny amount of his possessions away with him. One of the books is called The Mountain behind the Mountain. I have only read fragments so far,but I know it is a vital book for me, speaking as it does of the importance of kindling the fire of the heart, as one kindles the peat in the hearth each morning on waking. Thank you Steven.

Travelling south now, little by little. In Tarbert I saw sumptuous rolls of gorgeous Harris Tweed fabrics, pinks, violets, gold green moor-redolent hues.

I’ve been drawing every day, sitting and tuning into the spirit of place. A particular favourite of mine was Ardroil Sands at Uig.

It’s the place where the Lewis Chessmen were found – apparently by a cow hooking her horn around the handle of the casket. The enormous beaches were formed from the countless shell fragments of millions of shell-covered creatures who lived just outside the bay for centuries. I’ve enjoyed walking through ankle deep tide risings and experiencing the sea all around me, feeling her power and relentless nature. I’ve gathered handfuls of sea water for my drawings; I’ve scrabbled through peat bogs and dug my hands into their soft blackness, taking little handfuls to draw with.