This painting is intense and meaningful. Although this painting looks dark it becomes absolutely illuminated in direct sunlight and is highly textured so casts it’s own shadows. Whilst varnishing this thing I noticed what looks like a rose in one corner… Now, the house that I’ve painted (in Cuidhnis, East Harris) had a rowing boat called Rose, tucked in behind the gable end and protected with a fishing net. The Rose that has appeared in my painting was not made by me; it was made by eroding layers of paint with masonry brushes, bed sheets and knives. It appeared supernaturally, of its own accord. Random happenstance created it but it came from another plane and I must say that I’m pretty spooked by that.
Truth be told, this house still haunts me. I saw plates in the preas, the kettle still on the stove, Sunday-best shoes laid neatly by the bed and a-top it, a packed, brown leather travel case, with a silk scarf and an ornate vanity mirror. Throughout my visit I was entirely calm, if somewhat awestruck. I felt welcome. The house was peaceful and I felt respectful of the people who had once lived there. However, when driving back up the west coast road, I was struck by a sharp, brutal pain in my right foot, as if I’d stood on a nail and not noticed. I stopped to check twice, at one point convinced that blood was pooling in my welly. It was as if the house was calling me back. There are two schools of thought on why folk left all their belongings behind in such a meticulous way; one suggests a sense of pride in leaving behind the remnants of a life well-kept whereas the other espouses that your belongings be left as an offering to the land which helped raise you.
My experience at this house left quite a mystic impression on me and it plays a staring role in a music video I made for James Lindsay to accompany his 10-minute Gaelic/metal/folk/jazz odyssey Lewisian complex. You should look it up on YouTube because it’s one of the best things I have ever made.
I value this painting highly for it’s mystical connection, for it’s shadowy depth and what I perceive to be some sort of living connection to something dead. This painting was originally the cover of Breabach’s Album - Fàs. Which depicts the ‘last ent of Affric’ an elm tree stuck way up Glen Affric that looks like a grieving owl. It is thought to be several hundred years old and a survivor of the iceage forest that once blanketed the hills here. My experience visiting that place was also a strange one, with macabre blood soaked snow, a murder of crows and cutting snow storms that nearly scraped the face off of me. So the artwork for that album us underneath what you see now. Needles to say I have channeled quite a lot of something on to this canvas. Our diaspora, the wonder of the dead come alive, confusion about the mystical channel I seem to be able to tune unto sometimes. I shrug, I move on… reduced price as I need a fresh start at something. I had this hanging in my house for 2 years and I have not tired of it. However, I must change and move in to future and somehow find the conduit which helped create this thing in the first place, painful though it was. Some sort cleansing… some sort of?
This painting is intense and meaningful. Although this painting looks dark it becomes absolutely illuminated in direct sunlight and is highly textured so casts it’s own shadows. Whilst varnishing this thing I noticed what looks like a rose in one corner… Now, the house that I’ve painted (in Cuidhnis, East Harris) had a rowing boat called Rose, tucked in behind the gable end and protected with a fishing net. The Rose that has appeared in my painting was not made by me; it was made by eroding layers of paint with masonry brushes, bed sheets and knives. It appeared supernaturally, of its own accord. Random happenstance created it but it came from another plane and I must say that I’m pretty spooked by that.
Truth be told, this house still haunts me. I saw plates in the preas, the kettle still on the stove, Sunday-best shoes laid neatly by the bed and a-top it, a packed, brown leather travel case, with a silk scarf and an ornate vanity mirror. Throughout my visit I was entirely calm, if somewhat awestruck. I felt welcome. The house was peaceful and I felt respectful of the people who had once lived there. However, when driving back up the west coast road, I was struck by a sharp, brutal pain in my right foot, as if I’d stood on a nail and not noticed. I stopped to check twice, at one point convinced that blood was pooling in my welly. It was as if the house was calling me back. There are two schools of thought on why folk left all their belongings behind in such a meticulous way; one suggests a sense of pride in leaving behind the remnants of a life well-kept whereas the other espouses that your belongings be left as an offering to the land which helped raise you.
My experience at this house left quite a mystic impression on me and it plays a staring role in a music video I made for James Lindsay to accompany his 10-minute Gaelic/metal/folk/jazz odyssey Lewisian complex. You should look it up on YouTube because it’s one of the best things I have ever made.
I value this painting highly for it’s mystical connection, for it’s shadowy depth and what I perceive to be some sort of living connection to something dead. This painting was originally the cover of Breabach’s Album - Fàs. Which depicts the ‘last ent of Affric’ an elm tree stuck way up Glen Affric that looks like a grieving owl. It is thought to be several hundred years old and a survivor of the iceage forest that once blanketed the hills here. My experience visiting that place was also a strange one, with macabre blood soaked snow, a murder of crows and cutting snow storms that nearly scraped the face off of me. So the artwork for that album us underneath what you see now. Needles to say I have channeled quite a lot of something on to this canvas. Our diaspora, the wonder of the dead come alive, confusion about the mystical channel I seem to be able to tune unto sometimes. I shrug, I move on… reduced price as I need a fresh start at something. I had this hanging in my house for 2 years and I have not tired of it. However, I must change and move in to future and somehow find the conduit which helped create this thing in the first place, painful though it was. Some sort cleansing… some sort of?
Collection very much preferred. Can be crated and couriered at great expense.
