The Calder Valley, steep sided, cut by the ever present waters that have dissected the high moors above over millennia. When you’re on the tops, the valley bottom, teeming with our human existence is so small and insignificant in comparison to the wide sky, stretched taught over the curves of the weather worn moors. As the year’s wheel turns, the colours change, last summer’s grass, golden, or heather blushed, burnt browns of dead bracken, cloud laden, mist draped and snow covered.
This new genre of work is rising under my brushes in response to the daily beauty, surprise vistas and moments that take breath away on the journey to the studio in the morning, walking the dog in the afternoon, all and any snapshot moments, stills from the film of my daily life.
These moments are glimpses of places many will know but as with all things, we can become blind to the beauty around us when constantly exposed to it. I hope, with fresh eyes, to present these visual gems again and to bring with each work an urgent whisper to safeguard their beauty for the future.