Category Archives: travel

Summer Rain

“Summer Rain” coloured pencils, 25 x 19 cm. July 2019

All the colours run into a kaleidoscopic blur when a thunderstorm strikes Verona.  Those with umbrellas exercise their right to dawdle while those without hurry forth.  We are objects within a watercolour as forms melt and merge in a gush of summer rain.

 

 

 

Sunrise Reflected

“Sunrise Reflected”    Coloured pencils,   35 x 35 cm.   June 2019

As I walked home with Matthew late on Saturday night I said to him that I would definitely NOT get up at the crack of dawn on Sunday (as I had been doing every day so far in Venice) but I would sleep in.  I didn’t want to burn the candle at both ends; I mean, I’m no spring chicken!

“Silent Night” – a drawing from Saturday night when we stayed out late.

However, despite sensible intentions to rest, I flung myself out of bed and out of the apartment before sunrise.  I dashed across the ponte dell’ Accademia and straight onto a southbound vaporetto (water bus).  Just as the boat glided away from the stop and into the Grand Canal the sun was rising.  There before my eyes were the palazzos (and the vaporetto stop) madly reflecting back the sunlight.  It was a dawn chorus of light, a visual symphony on that Sunday morning.

After I took a whirlwind of photos an inspector came to check that I had a valid ticket.  I did.  We exchanged big smiles.  And all was brilliant with the world.

 

Silent Night

“Silent Night”
coloured pencils, 32.5 x 29 cm. May 2019

Late on Saturday night there are people partying in Venice.  We walk past a hot-spot where there is a silent disco on the campo.  (Silent? Yes, the dancers are all wearing headphones – a surreal sight.)

We continue on our journey, navigating ourselves deep into the peace of Dorsoduro.

No cars, not even the hum of far-away traffic.  It is a profound silence, broken only by the soft thuds of shoes on stone and perhaps a voice carried on the breeze.

And shortly after this, we find ourselves lost once again.  But we don’t mind.

 

 

 

Intrigue

“Intrigue”
35 x 25 cm. coloured pencils. May 2019

Within the web of Venice one wanders, and wonders, “Shall I turn right (or left)?  What is beyond that bridge?  I’ll go straight“, [side-tracked] “But oh – THAT way looks intriguing.  Which way, which way?”  And after a few more moments, glancing back, “Now, where the heck did I come from?” And so one twists and turns until one is deep within the labyrinth, hoping one has memorized the way back.

There are infinite pathways.  Each one offers another view point, another framed composition which must be stopped at and dreamily sighed over.  Accompanying the wondering wanderer is the sound of lapping water and (in spring) blackbird song amplified and bouncing off stone walls (those skew-whiff walls which frame compositions).

Of course it is early, for later on Calle del Caffettier (as indeed every other calle) will be choked with tourists.  But right now on this March Sunday morning I am almost alone.

Sigh!


Afterword: I had trouble getting back into drawing after my recent Italian trip.     As I walked in a fallow state of mind along my local beach it dawned on me that our West Australian shells contain the same colours as the marble and stone buildings of Venice.  (Well, after all, both shells and Venice are immersed in sea water periodically depending on moon, weather, season and tides.)  I carried a few shells home and somehow this collection of colourful calcium carbonate gave me the impetus to get back to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pretty in Pink

Revisiting Venice in March I am overwhelmed and enchanted by the colour pink.  In sky, water, buildings, lamps, mosaics, paintings, furniture, fabrics, outdoors and indoors – pink is everywhere!   So I give you a pink post.  The photos (taken over seven days)  begin in the early morning, move through the day and finish at night.

Sometimes bright, sometimes subtle – “Pretty in pink, isn’t she?” – “The Psychedelic Furs” ( and by the way, who remembers that song?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Coast of Most

Wellington Cable Car

Home is where the heart is – and this past week I’ve been there.  Let me show you ‘my place’ – where I lived for the first eighteen years of my life (the formative years).

Zealandia Ecosanctuary in Karori

I grew up in Karori (the only bit of this post that isn’t on the coast).  Here we find Zealandia, an ecosanctuary where ornithologists are dedicated to studying and re-establishing native bird populations in the Wellington bush and suburbs.  What an inspirational area to visit – and I recommend you do.

A kaka sizes me up.

Matthew and I stay at Island Bay, one of the southern beaches.  The view is so different depending on the weather that throughout this post there are several photos of views from our lounge window.  The hills beyond are the eastern ranges of Pencarrow.  This is a pearl of a morning.  (We watch the planes coming in if it is a northerly and going out if it is a southerly.)

Island Bay calm morning (but cold!)

Several times per day the Interislander ferries sail past us commuting between North and South Islands.

Island Bay stroll.  (These must be locals because they are dressed as if it is warm – which it isn’t.)

The next beach along is Owhiro Bay.  The mountains in the distance are the Kaikoura mountains of the South Island.  They have fresh snow on them – gorgeous – due to a sudden southerly blast the previous day.

Owhiro Bay houses

Owhiro Bay life.

Kaikoura mountains, ferry and SPRAY!

Right in the heart of Wellington city is Oriental Bay.

Oriental Bay

Oriental Bay sky on a breezy afternoon.

Late afternoon lounge view.  The end of a sapphire day in Wellington.

The following morning the weather has changed.  Clouds and northerly gales are the order of the day.

Island Bay view from the lounge

We drive across the Rimutaka Range to Palliser Bay.  To call it windy is a gross understatement!

The coastline at remote and wild Lake Ferry.

Southern black-backed gull

White-fronted terns and black-backed gulls.

Matthew, flying cormorant and tern flock.

Wild windy sky over Lake Onoke.

Further around the coast (another 50 kms) is Ngawi where crayfish are caught.  Lack of a harbour means that bulldozers have to haul the fishing boats up onto the sand.  “A graveyard for bulldozers” is how it is described to me.

Ngawi

New Zealand fur seals live here.

“Hello”

Two friends.

Cape Palliser is the southern-most tip of the North Island.

We approach the lighthouse

250 steps – rather scary as they are so steep!

We make it to the top! And the wind is screaming!!!

On the drive home the northerly gales are so strong that rubber piping on the roof of our hire car actually peels off and starts to flap about!  We have to get out (hold onto the car) and pound it back in with our fists and finger tips.

Sky patterns on the drive back.

Back in the lounge at the end of the day.  (We had been on the other side of those far hills.)

By next morning the wind has changed back to southerly – so in our lounge view planes are taking off.

Southerly morning at Island Bay

A ferry pushes through the swell.

We drive over to Makara to see our dear friends Jenifer and George Welch (who used to own Makara Riding School where I spent as much of my teenage years as I could riding horses).  Jenifer and George give us a huge treat, a history and geography tour over the hills into Terawhiti Station, completely out of bounds to the general public.

Karori Rock lighthouse at Tongue Point.  Kaikouras in the distance.

The wild coast of Cape Terawhiti, and far away a ferry approaches (a distant white dot).

…the white dot has materialized into the ferry…crossing the Cook Strait.

Looking north, wind turbines on the skyline of Makara hills.  Mana and Kapiti Islands beyond.

Our dear friends, Jenifer and George with Tick, at their bach.

Later that afternoon, back in Island Bay…

On the move – cruise ship, plane and seagull.  (Our view again).

I hope the passengers remembered to take their seasick pills.

Finally it is our turn to fly out of Wellington.  We take off to the north.  Can you see our Air New Zealand shadow?

Flying over the bays

Goodbye Fair City – for now.

The Coast of Most what?  Most hills, cliffs, waves, spray, swells, seabirds, winds, rain, clouds, sun, planes, ships, inter-island ferries, rugged landscapes, distant mountains, seaside cafés with great views, friendly locals, narrow winding twisty roads, and constantly changing light.  And because Wellington is just a little bit seismic, what you see today might look different tomorrow.  You just never know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Remains of the Day

“The Remains of the Day”
Coloured pencils on Arches Aquarelle smooth. 36.5 x 30.8 cm. February 2019.

Venice: November 2018.  It is nearly 4 pm and the sun is already inclining westwards.  I am going west as well, back towards my apartment, plodding along happily worn out.  But then…a light bulb moment…

‘I know – what if I point my lens into the sun?’  It is poised above Punta della Dogana and Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute, shining directly into my eyes.  (I raise the camera, quickly compose and then close my eyes as I click, click, click.)  Voilà!

The air is all haze and halo, evaporating some objects while solidifying others (including people) into dark abstractions.  Sea mirrors sky; blazing here, sparkling there.  A seagull has swooped into my view.  Perfect.

There are probably only 90 minutes of daylight left.  I will be back sitting on my bed by 5 pm scrolling through photographic images.  ‘Here’s a good one.’

The two drawings from this day are bookends – starting with “Early One Morning” (07:50)  and finishing with “The Remains of the Day” (15:50).  Matthew (husband) came up with the titles – the first being a Celtic folk song and the second, a novel by Kazuo Ishiguro.

Early One Morning

“The Remains of the Day”