Since Easter there has been a thick haar, or sea fog, sitting on Aberdeen. Time and objects disappear, nothing looks real, and going on a simple walk is to venture from one unseen pocket into another.
Things materialise from nowhere into sudden, unworldly colour -- a tiny, old woman with a scarf over her hair sitting and smoking on a low wall, a tree of pink blossoms, a path of bluebells.
Lost in all this fog, it seems I have once again let my posting slip for a while.
In the meantime though, I have finished an etching and helped organize an art show, learned about framing and then framed three of my works, and today I have been cooking up rabbit skin to make glue so I can prepare some wooden panels for painting. I have also been learning a little about egg tempera painting and I am trying to use traditional materials in traditional ways, so that I can understand exactly what is going into the things I make.
If the sun ever comes out again, I will be able to photograph and share two new prints with you. (Or, if you are near Aberdeen you can stop by the Art Gallery from Saturday the 10th of May until the 21st of June, as these two prints will be part of the Aberdeen Artists Society Annual Exhibition.)
In the midst of all this, one afternoon not long ago, while I was tucked away busily working, my husband slipped out with the camera for a stroll in the thick haar to take the lovely photos you see here today.
Down by the harbour these sweet brick smoke houses make their last stand against ugly glass boxes. I will miss the seagull shrieks and heavy fish smells on the way home.
In the fog, like in the snow, it is easier to see only the places you want to see. When the clouds eat the roof off of the ugly hotel behind the house I think the whole neighbourhood must sigh and smile a little.
Where have you been wandering in these heady, blossoming days?