hʌɪbəneɪt

Hibernate

early 19th cent. (earlier (mid 17th cent.) as hibernation): from Latin hibernare, from hiberna ‘winter quarters’, from hibernus  ‘wintry’.

1  (Of an animal or plant) spend the winter in a dormant state

1.1 (Of a person) remain inactive or indoors for an extended period

Many of the animals and plants have lost their rest time this year, while I have been pulled inside, further motivated by the strong weather in these parts.

In the city we forget about seasons, barely break the momentum of our summer stride, neon lights sustaining our wilful avoidance of the planet’s rotation. Our energy levels and motivations dip, and we often forget to ask why, berating ourselves for a loss of performance, productivity, and drive. In the countryside, no such illusion persists. We are as subject to light and cold as the next creature. The vulnerability of ageing, injury, and loss, sit more clearly somehow. The cycle of life shows more vivid.

So on those days I haven’t been working on my studio space, and my extremities complain against the cold at each furtive attempt at plein air practice, I found myself prone to hibernate. Trying to structure my days with research and method, reading up on this land, on Carravaggio (Helen Langdon), and Ruskin (Elements of Drawing); drawing; returning to some rudimentary exercises; completing some ‘artists admin’ i.e. sharpening my pencils, cleaning my paint tubes, or stretching paper.

interior with chair 28 01 16 wmJust in time, before ‘the fear’ firmly gripped me again, I remembered the words of a good friend: ‘When you can’t paint outside because of bad weather, just go back to those little interior paintings of yours’.

The more I painted, the happier I felt, and with the growing enjoyment of working with oil again, the pleasure intensified. What a relief…

‘I have a predilection for painting that lends joyousness to a wall ‘ (Renoir)

2 comments on “hʌɪbəneɪt”

  1. I think all us outdoor painters suffer from hibernation at this time of year . I’m glad to see your quest is still ongoing and just because Renoir painted every day it doesn’t mean we are lacking if we don’t.

    1. Thank you, Carolyn. I often miss those morning phone calls saying the weather is right, and a destination proposed! There is just too much choice here, and that in itself harbours procrastination. Still hunting for the perfect pochade 🙂

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