5. am Waitangi Day

Up at 5 am this morning and it was a shock. There was a stinging southerly blast ( in New Zealand, that means it feels like someone left the fridge door open ,because that southerly blasts  straight from the maw of Antarctica) and I felt like the only person alive. The moon is now a crescent and there was little light at all...I almost went back to bed , then I saw the lights on the farmhouse up the road flick on. Life out there! A beacon in the otherwise dark night, I painted the view across the valley towards the south, the hill and the farmhouse,the night sky and the dim orange haze of the sun on the distant horizon, as it started to make it's influence felt on the atmosphere.

My hands were so cold I could barely hold the brushes after 30 minutes. It did not warm up for hours, but by then I was back inside, a house-full of boys, sleepover breakfast and plans for a bike ride. Today is a public holiday. Waitangi day.

30 x 30 cm
oil on archival paper

To the tune Billy Joel's "Piano man"

It's 4 am on a sunday morn
the regular crowd are asleep....

In my 20's, 4 am saw me winding up my evening of  nightclubs/concerts/parties/some mischief . In my 30's, I saw it regularly with  a baby over my shoulder, patiently waiting for a burp or a fart  to appear ( from the baby!) . I swore then I would sleep as much as possible if I ever had the chance.

Well, my 40's have seen me sleeping well until recently, when 4 am has seen me wake , unbidden by anything, and I have marvelled at the clarity of the night sky .I know I should not open my eyes and try go back to sleep, but recently, I have peeked out the windows and spent some time with the night view. It is very,very peaceful.

So this morning, I woke at 4 am, and went painting. I had everything ready at the door, jumped into some warmish clothes and boots, and went out to paint.I wanted to paint the view I spied at nights, across the farmlands towards a distant farmhouse, the crossroads with State Highway 39 and the foothills of the Karamu range.

I loved it. Quiet,still,dark,peaceful.I painted for about 20 minutes when suddenly, the cat appeared silently , rubbed against my leg and I levitated. Quite high, I have to add, with the added benefit of a zombie-like gurgle of fear to add insult to the injury.

After I had reduced my heart rate from a gazillion and coaxed it out of my throat back to it's normal position in my chest, I continued painting. Not 5 minutes later, a possum had some kind of fit in the vines covering the pergola behind me, thrashed around wildly and fell the gravel and sped away into the paddock next door. I was gratified to see the cat companion was as shocked as I was by that particular interuption. We both stared into the dark, trying to gain control of our sphincters and get back to the business of painting. I say we because anthropomorphising makes me feel better about being scared and alone in the dark. So does making up words.

Sunday morning 4 am
20 x 30 cm
oil on archival paper

Plein air at Night

Things that go bump in the night......


I have thought of painting the nights sky for years. I try it every now and then, especially inspired during the summer months when the skies are clear and the weather conducive to being outdoors at night. Because there are few cities and the quality of the air is good, the night sky is incredible.

My closest city is Hamilton, a hamlet on the scale of cities worldwide, and a just a vague blip on the horizon from my eyrie.. I painted on the verge of our country road , last night, camp torch headlight illuminating my palette. Four cars passed me( what must they have thought!!?) .Friday night , 10 pm, and I am painting outdoors. My 18 year old self is hysterical with laughter at the idea...she was off partying at this time!At least I am always having a good time, no matter what age!

As a first attempt en plein air painting a night scene, called a nocturne, I am pleased with the result. I only spent about 30 minutes out there till I scampered back indoors for a cup of tea. I preloaded my palette with Pthalo Blue and Pthalo green, permanent Alizarin,ultramarine blue, cobalt blue, raw sienna, cadmium orange and white.

Here is what I learned:

• have a plan!
• work fast if you are working in dusk!
• know what colours do what...mixing on the palette with artificial light relies on experience
• squint....even in the dark
• do not shine the light in your own eyes...you will be blinded for a while
• photos are fairly useless!!!

I am going to do this again! It was fun!

20 x 30 cm oil on archival paper

Friday nocturne

First star at night

Southern Hemisphere  summer evenings mean it's light till past 9 pm. I wish I could paint at this time of night but the kids have finished me off as a useful human being by about 6pm, so anything that happens after that has a certain element of pre-determined disaster about it. Having the boys around 24/7 is doing my head in a bit. They eat non-stop, create havoc and are genuinely astonished when I ask them to tidy up.....they are oblivious to the chaos they create. Sigh. Chillax, Jennie.Go with the flow.

So, I make notes, do some online reading and have a restorative gin then paint from those memories, notes and such , the next day.

The wind has howled yesterday and today. It has blown in that way that makes me hysterical for the safety of fingers in doors etc. We lost an olive tree and a big branch of a twisted willow last night. I had to rescue the neighbours new patio chairs from the paddock next door and hammered a few more pegs into keeping the trampoline in place.Sadly, birds nests lie scattered. The cat is besides himself with glee.

So, this is the first star of the night across the farmlands.

First star of the night
32 x 18 cm
oil on canvas

I had to photograph this indoors due to the wind....I will rephotograph in a few days.

First Star

Still not a great photo......