Stills

10 snapshots of an ever-changing land

{unimportant, but amusing context. briefly.}

I am huddled beside the small flames of a freshly lit fire. I couldn’t be bothered to start one this morning. But by lunchtime I was regretting my negligence; cold hands exaggerate tedious tasks. And I do believe photographing paintings, editing those photos, uploading them only to then realise they are all horrible (the photos, that is. I do like the paintings), is, for me, the most tedious of all tasks.

The dog is curled up on the bed where he shouldn’t be — right on top of Daniel’s pillow. I don’t have the heart to tell him off.

Our new tenant, Remy, is hurriedly organising his living space before the winter sets in. We’ve heard him wander around above our heads each night this week… and this afternoon, too (the attic is no doubt heating up with the warming fire).

Naming is the only way I can accept his presence.
If it remains only a mouse, my annoyance and disturbance at those little pitter-patter feet, deepen exponentially.

“Everyone needs a home”, my sweet, gentle husband says in a small voice….

Well isn’t that nice.

But now that Remy is a named and known guest, I am content to offer him a limited, seasonal rental contract in one small corner of the roof cavity.

I’m sure we will all get along splendidly…as long as he doesn’t attempt cooking.

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Stills.

Little landscapes. Gentle moments.
10 snapshots of an ever-changing land.

I love the ephemeral light.
I am enamoured by the colours of the land that ripen from cool to warm as the angle of the sun changes. I go walking only to stand and watch the mountain’s hue shift as clouds float by overhead. The textures of dancing leaves and the contour of twisted branches capture my attention as they weave in and out of view.

With each observation I am witness to a fleeting moment, a swiftly departing scene, never to be replicated (quite identically) by nature’s painter again.

Yet, even in the midst of an ever-shifting landscape, a culture of fast-paced busyness, I can take a breath. A breath given by the beauty to be found when I stop to look.

When I stop to be still.

“Stills” is a word often used in reference to a single snapshot taken from a moving picture. A film, for example.

However, instead of a photograph which simply captures a scene, I sit down to paint them with the emotion of saturated colour. Slowly, tediously, I freeze the breath-giving moments that move by too quickly.

With gouache on cotton rag paper, I turn the ever-shifting light into quiet stills.

These scenes are all very dear to me.
The shapes and colours I paint have become symbols of home. As I walk and drive through the familiar eucalypt woods and watch the sun dip below the mountain, I sigh with gratitude and awe that I am surrounded by such beauty.

Now I get to share these piece of my home with you.

I am hoping these 10 moments gift you a breath.
May they serve as small reminders to be slow and to be still.

xx Eleanor Ann

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