In the deep midwinter - paring back

One of my favourite winter hymns is ‘In the deep midwinter’. I remember my Mum singing it to me when I was a child. It sums up the chill of the season, the simplicity. There’s a mournful quality to it and also a message to give what you have, from your heart.

I am writing this as the longest night begins. Daylight has been scarce and I have taken time each day to notice one thing - the sky, a blush of pink, the branches reaching high, rain streaming down a window pain.

Sometime it is enough to notice. To hold onto a flash in our minds-eye until we know how to begin to process it. In winter I opt for stronger shape, a limited palette, a strong line. I am trying to capture a mood, the poetry of the season. I want the stillness and the slowness to pervade how I make art. I want to share the processes of translating the intangible into something tangible.

When I walk in the short window of daylight I look at that which is usually concealed. I see the roots and branches. I see less as light levels are lower. There are many greys and greens but also exciting flourishes of colour too, from the changing sky, from colours absorbed in summer rays and emitted through late autumn hues of indigos and berry tones. As December rushes me to be Christmas-ready my soul wants to look deep into a fire, my being wants to be free to wander. My creativity is less purposeful, more meditative. Birds bring life to the scenes that I collate in my head, wafting and soaring across leaden skies.

Don’t push, Don’t tick a box. Use all your senses to engage your midwinter soul and connect with what is happening around you. Look for the tories, the journeys as starting points for images. Collect the subtle tones and colours and write the poetry of the season in images.

Wishing you a blessed solstice.

Helen