farewells and thanks

This is it, my residency is over. It took me an hour and a half to pack all the drawings into this tube. I took this to the post office on Wednesday and Zanja was incredibly helpful. I miss having a good post office. 

I was thrown a farewell BBQ by several of my new friends, it was lovely. We had huge cheese burgers, chips and salad. Dave braved outside despite the rain and wind to barbeque the burgers. 

 As I left this morning a mist iced the top of the hills. I apologise to any local stuck behind my car as I did the speed limit- the gloom of the morning looked like a moose's dream.

I would really like to thank so many people for making this residency possible. First of all The Rooms for selecting me. Anne Marceau for her invaluable help particularly as I was preparing for the residency and Michael Burzynski for his advice on rocks. Kris Oravec for her help, advice and friendship-this residency would not have gone so smoothly without her aid. The artists I met during this residency including Christine Koch & Barb Daniell. Thanks too to Molly White, Robert Nelder and Peter Lakin for delicious dinners and good company. Barb Gillam for the best vegetables I ate in Newfoundland. Many thanks to Gayle Tapper for more delicious cooking, beautiful harp playing and for inviting me to several events & parties including Ruthie Tapper's 90th. Thanks also to Sharon Chaulk for her hospitality and the lift to Corner Brook and particularly her help with the purchase of the tube (thanks too to Lisa Shears of Shears building supplies for coming to my rescue). Thank you Zanja of Bonne Bay Post Office for providing an exemplorary service, for delivering my post (poste restante) and for sending me to the Legion to meet Danny Williams, the Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador. Thanks to Hugh and Barb for being good neighbours and for sending me off with muffins and cookies! Finally I would like to thank everyone I have met during this residency for the welcome they have offered me, please forgive me if I have not named you all. The kindness I encountered has touched me greatly.  

the art of packing

The residency is nearly at an end and now I needed to focus on how the artwork was getting home. I spent the day in Corner Brook. I got a lift and had a really enjoyable day as a result. It could have been totally miserable on my own. Particularly as the plumbing store was reluctant to sell anything to me at all and could only think of problems. Fortunately Sharon knew her daughter's building supplies firm would help, they were excellent. The drawings are so big that they are rolled into a huge industrial tube (a cardboard roll used for casting in-situ concrete pillars) topped with two sewerpipe caps.

I had an educational experience going to "box stores" as they are referred to here. The raw, fluorescent strip lighting flattens everything and adds a surreal, burnished glow to the colours. Strangely I genuinely enjoy these places, especially if I have no vital need to be there but I can relish the enormity of the place. It is not the prettiest of environments but it is a necessary part of living here. Woody Point is beautifully isolated but specialized shopping means a three hour round trip to Corner Brook. The same is true of the hospital.

It did nothing but rain from lunchtime onwards. When we returned in the afternoon I found the view had disappeared again.

Cow Head

Today was an explosion of sunshine. I left Woody Point for Cow Head and there was barely a cloud between them. I spent the evening on the lighthouse trail. I was cushioned by pine needles while walking through the comfortable scent of balsam fir, to reach the rocks on the beach below. 

 The strange formations are a result of ancient underground landslides...

All over the Park there are divided graveyards. It is clearly marked in Cow Head. The society feels intergrated here and this seems incongruous. I'm not sure I would want to be labelled in the afterlife.

 

The cemetries are both on the peninsular. A tiny causeway links them to the town. A huge refridgerated fish truck nearly took me off the road as it hurtled towards a dock behind me.

 

Fall is in the air and the wind blew gustily yesterday, the sky was all racing clouds and light. This morning I am watching heavy clouds encircle the patch of pure blue over the artist's house. 

Soon I will get into action and start being infinitely practical by cleaning floors and preparing the house for the open studio later this afternoon. I am having a slow start because I was working after the 90th birthday I went to last night. It was a lovely party; the birthday girl is in excellent form and had been quoting poetry to me earlier that afternoon. I was profoundly touched to have been asked and it was inspiring to see someone with such a straight-forward pleasure in life and the people around her.

the works crew

 

I went out with the works crew. I wanted to see how the park worked on a daily level. They were working on the Trout River road and were putting in poles with reflectors on them so that they can be seen above the snow. In a blizzard these are sometimes all you see and people drive from one pole to the next. A hole is first drilled into the ground and the pole is hammered into place.

 

I had no idea what this was for: it is a pole to show where the storm drains are so that when there is rain and it starts to melt the snow, a hole can be dug to clear out the storm drain to allow run off. I feel rather humbled that even the snow is large scale here. 

The long rope coming from the pick up has an anchored weight attached and is 50 ft long so that they keep the same distance between the poles.

K Rock

 

Foolishly I listened to a forecast last night predicting rain. Today became a day of administration in Deer Lake as a result. It is a 2 hour return journey. It takes me from the South Arm of Bonne Bay through the hills to Deer Lake. It is imperceptible from the photograph but the colours are just beginning to turn. I wanted to capture the kilometres of tree-lined road I drive. Today like vivid traffic lights there would be spots of pure orange from rusting ferns and sudden deep maroon-red bushes amongst the green. 

I've started driving with the radio on. I only get reception for one channel and that depends on the mountains, it is: Western Newfoundland Classic Rock, K Rock. I have been practicing to say that with a Newfie accent but have failed so far. It took until Deer Lake when they played something I recognised and I sang along with the greatest gusto knowing I would be unheard.

in green gardens even moose slip up

It was only a 12 and half kilometre walk but I am totally exhausted. It was those hill things I am just not used to. I joined Jerry, Linda and the gorgeous Charlie (a chocolate labrador) on a hike to Green Gardens.

The tiniest bear-shaped spot on the image below is a distant shot of Charlie leading us. 

We went to the distant beach and back. There were 30m high cliffs of pillow basalt around us. In the distance the cliffs towards Trout River are deformed peridotite and gabbro, I can say this with a certain authority because the residency has a geological map. What intially seemed like small driftwood from above was tree trunks and a couple of huge logs formerly used in the logging industry. Sadly on the beach there were also the decayed bodies of two long-dead moose. Teenage ones had misjudged their footing in the snow and fallen off from the cliffs above. Somehow I imagined moose to be more sure-footed and less falible in these situations.  

We had a picnic by a beach waterfall. As we left the sun burst out, pebbles glistened and foolishly I picked several up. They gained considerable weight walking upwards.

cloud watching

Two days of extraordinary clouds. Yesterday I watched a thin cloud hanging in the mountain opposite. This morning they increased. They linked in huge crowded numbers to meander and wallow in the sky, dipping themselves onto mountain tops. The Tablelands are licked by a soft layer and the summit has long disappeared.

I've settled into this residency and my pace has slowed. Apparently in Amsterdam the AEX is up this afternoon, it is rainning lightly and there were 22 traffic jams of 116km at 3.30pm. It has already grown into an alien language- I haven't seen a car here for the last ten minutes. The smaller things become more intense and I can focus on details. For now my job is to draw and watch clouds.

mackerel

fishing shack Green Point

At the beginning of the week the porpoises arrived in Woody Point. The teenaged ones were not to be restrained as they danced amongst the mackerel they had followed in. Later the boats followed and from the fish processing plant lorry loads of prepared mackerel made their way to Korea.

This is an environment in transistion. Cod will never define the lifestyle as it used to. The crab season wasn't that good this year, fishing is something that is melting away. Tourism is a growing industry.   

tides, serenades and vegetables

It didn't rain, the low tide is at a very convenient time right now so I spent the day drawing. I'm working on this amazing rock outcrop at Green Point it has chert, shale and limestone veining.  I am completely absorbed and have to be very careful with the incoming tide, gurgling sounds mean I need to leave rapidly.

On my way back I dropped into the visitor's centre at Lobster Cove Head, I love the light house plus I like chatting to the woman in charge there. A lot of people do and one of the Park's work crew dropped in before they went home. He saw her guitar resting in the corner and he picked it up and sang a ballad from the Cape Shore to us. I am still feeling the glow of the song. I think I would like to be serenaded more often, it is a beautiful way to end the day.

I came home and picked red cloverflowers, I've learnt it makes very good tea. Afterwards I will settle down with dinner of left-over moose stew. I went to dinner with friends and was sent home with a delicious doggie bag. I discovered that for real vegetables I need to contact a local person who will surrepticiously sell some to me. Most people grow their own vegetables, the store bought ones are not always so tasty.  

the view above Green Point

With all this driving in the hills I saw my first moose a few days ago, I was hoping I would. It appeared like a brown shadow from the trees. On Monday I saw a caribou so busy chasing his potential girlfriend that he had no thought for the road or passing cars. Today I saw that the accidents involving moose had gone up to 26 this season. That was one more in the last two days.

silver grey

Today I lost my view, it disappeared to silver grey and the sky and hills dissolved into each other. It hasn't stopped rainning all day, so I stayed indoors making pieces about rain. It would have been a sad day if I hadn't had such a lovely evening. I went to a pot luck supper held in my honour, I was really touched and really well fed. I've learnt that Newfoundland is hiding a large number of gifted cooks.

The rain makes me think of something more odd that I learnt recently: Newfoundland has no native earthworms, all the worms it has are imported. This was a day that brings joy to earthworms and I expect to see them cavorting with pleasure. Tomorrow I am hoping for sunshine as predicted but I am growing into the rhythm of this place and I will read the clouds, feel the wind direction and make a guess...

 

thin, fine rain

Glowing light cloud and thin fine rain that permeates everywhere. I set off for an afternoon tree drawing session and realised it wasn't going to work, the paper would get just too soggy. This morning the forecaster's threat of a 100% precipation seemed a little too arrogant and I was pleased his glee last night would be tempered by the peeking blue sky.

Today was bin day. I had to put my rubbish in the animal-proof box and the men came to collect it in a small pickup with fenced edges, by the time they reached the old people's home down below here they were jumping on the top to squash the bags down. I love the difference to home: in Amsterdam we worry about identity theft and small crews of dubious people cruise rubbish bags on bin night, here we worry about bears snacking on refuse...

The Tablelands

Today I went on a guided walk of the Tablelands. It is so much better this way, what looked like glowing barren ochre mountains turn out to support Arctic flora. A pine forest no higher than my knee was dwalfed by climate and location and could be dated back to over 1000 years. This is a giant chunk of the earth's mantel that has come to rest here just one hill behind the house. When I drove down to see it, I felt awe in the real sense of "awesome".

This is the amazing thing about this residency: so much of what I encounter is different, challenging and refocusing. Here am I having gained my driving licence in Holland now climbing up and down huge hills in my little car. Everyday I am confronting my dimishing fear of heights. Plus where I draw may look attractive and safe, sometimes even with boardwalks but this belies the fact that this is still wild countryside.

There is a real moose problem here and because it is a National Park they cannot be culled. They eat young saplings so when the old pines die nothing grows in their place and there are bald patches in the forest with skeletal trees. On the otherhand the caribou are suffering. Coyotes arrived on Newfoundland recently- they walked over the ice from Nova Scotia. They are partial to caribou. The poor animals suffer from being potential dinner and from imported disease that has decreased their numbers radically.

This place is fascinating and I learn so much. Plus being in such a huge park is a strange experience of living in a protected environment that still functions as a living working place. Everything has to compete with my view and there are some mornings I don't want to move beyond the window.

Hurricane Earl

Lighthouse at Woody Point

That was one of the worst flights I have had in a long time. Hurricane Earl had sent us some deep airpockets, it felt like wild helter-skelter, body surfing. I knew it was bad when the co-pilot/ air steward admitted how pleased he was to have landed safely...

I was really touched how kind people are here: I was guided to my exit from the TransCanada by a friend of one of my fellow passengers. The highway was covered in water and he was concerned that I might aquaplane as I wasn't used to the road.

Today the sky smiled and the sun was warm. The wind was huge and gusting as it carried the end of the hurricane with it. Driving to Woody Point from Deer Lake made me realise just how different the scale is here. It really is huge. I drove through wooded hills and vistas of further ones until I reached the water's edge where the landscape broke open into light-filled communities dipping in the bay. Woody Point is the last town on this road and apparently has a population of 355, today that increased to 356 while I am here.

Storm drains waiting to be installed.

Leaving St. John's

St John's from the walk around Signal Hill

Au revoir St John's, I'm leaving on tomorrow afternoon's 'plane for Deer Lake. I'm going to overnight there because the moose are bad this time of year. They love dawn and dusk and napping on a nice warm piece of tarmac. Meeting a moose on the road is not a good thing: the car woud be a write-off and they would be mildly dazed by the experience.

hot Newfoundland

Montreal looking uptown at Mont Royal from the Quartier Latin

One amazing hot day in Montreal, trying to aclimatize to Canada. It is a huge bustling city and I love the contrast between this intense urbanism and the rest of my journey. I have a few days off before I start the residency so I flew via Montreal to Newfoundland.

I arrived in St. John's only to discover that the Holland America line cruise ship had appeared in town and it was as if I had brought a huge Montreal building with me filled with the Dutch people I thought I had left behind in Amsterdam. St. John's has a very deep harbour and perfect for huge cargo ships and cruise liners however the cruise ship was only there for 12 hours before rushing back to Halifax NS to be in that harbour when the oncoming hurricane Earl appears. It is very hard to see any of the effects of "Earl"- yesterday it was so wonderfully sunny. 

I'm staying with friends and we went blueberry picking in the afternoon, I am convinced this is a cure for jet-lag. It is such peaceful activity picking the purple-blue fruit. They often grow with cedar bushes so there is this heady perfumed scent from crushed cedar underfoot and the burst of blueberry taste as I quality check the berries I pick. Combined with the wind off the sea and the warm sun it was a perfect afternoon. We drove back to St John's and along the road an overheated thermometer sign annonced 27C. This is not the cool North I was expecting.  

Just packing... more posts will follow.