(Photo Gallery below)
My residency at Fair Isle Studio got off to a bit of a rocky start. After traveling to Glasgow and waiting for 2 days for the fog to lift to fly to the Shetland Mainland, we got stuck in Sumburgh on the southern tip of the island because of high winds and canceled flights. Our only choice was a 2 ½ hour ride on a fishing trawler (Fair Island Ferry) across the North Sea in 25-30 foot swells. My first clue of what was ahead were the seatbelts attached to the seats and stacks of little white bags on the seats. Once out of the bay it only took a few minutes to watch the porthole bob up to the sky straight down many feet below into the sea, fully feeling the back and forth as well as the up and down pitch of the boat. I spent the trip with eyes tightly closed and hands clutching the sides of the seats, counting down the minutes. My oft repeated mantra taught to students reverberating in my head, “I can do hard things.” with visions of “Deadliest Catch” interrupting every now and then. We arrived safely. Many of the islanders were waiting as the boat brings supplies, mail and of course, Amazon packages. I learned that the ferry is avoided this time of year and they were impressed with our commitment to get to the island. That sailing was the last for the winter.
Storm Ashley arrived the day after arriving with powerful winds and rains, swept across the treeless landscapes, pushed from the seas. For a time we lost electricity and heat which were both powered by a windmill, but even the speed of the winds were too much for it. Our traditional croft, built in the mid 1800’s kept us dry and was eerily quiet thanks to the 2 foot thick walls of the house. After those initial days the storm passed to reveal an island marked by a stunning landscape, with gentle green pastures and whitewashed cottages with spectacular views of the tallest of cliffs and stacks in the mighty deep blue sea, still stirred by the storms. All of this magic just beyond the croft, in full view from the studio window
I found myself going outside many times during the day, standing on the porch observing the angry sea, sometimes walking down the hill to photograph the movement and shadows of the waves. I have never been an artist who had any desire to capture water, but I simply became obsessed. I dumped my original plans and started doing study after study of the rocks and the sea. They are dark and they are without resolution, an attempt at catching the movement and the mystery. I also had the challenge of having one paintbrush and a small set of acrylic paints, both of which had been thankfully left behind by a former residency artist since all of my supplies got stuck in customs. I quickly let go of the disappointment of this particular circumstance and embraced the limitations. Good things can come out of things being shaken up a bit.
The island is 3 miles long and a mile and a half miles wide. It is owned by the National Trust of Scotland and is inhabited by about 50 people and many more sheep. The people were absolutely lovely and I made friends with the sheep on the property and learned so much from observing them. (I am mulling over an idea for a children’s book.) My husband was able to help out with the sheep and did a fair amount of repairing and putting up new fencing and helping one of the crofters vaccinate the flock. There was also a shepherd dog who would accompany me when I went out for walks. He would silently join me and run ahead, turn and wait for me, walk closely and then run ahead and wait again, always returning to his farm at the end. It was moments like these which added to the enchantment of this very special place. Taking a break from the conveniences, technology, traffic, crowds, even if for a bit, was refreshing and having the opportunity of doing Art in this place was simply good for the soul.
