Summer Memories

Summer is pushing on. It feels like it will be here for ever, but I’m aware that it will be time to swap the suncream for a thick coat before I know it. Our feet have trodden city and countryside steps equally this summer, with London days on the Thames clipper boat and picnics on scorched Greenwich Park grass, sharing equal billing with walks through the Somerset gardens of Piet Oudolf’s in Hauser and Wirth and Hestercombe House.

This summer has been unbearably hot and it’s made it difficult to embrace being outside and do anything. My one year old has struggled in the heat and, well, so have I. But I’ve also been reminded how joy can be found anywhere. My girls have occupied themselves for a surprisingly long time by running up and down a corridor, accompanied with the type of joyful giggles and squeals whose memory can keep you warm on a winter night.

Grasses, soft pastel on Kraft. Poppy, oil pastel on Kraft.

And my artistic practice keeps returning to these memories we’re making this summer. The aforementioned gardens, a poppy in the garden that we watched a honey bee investigate, sunrise on a camping trip after my baby decided to wake for the day at 3:30am and we went on a fruitless but bonding epic buggy walk across terrain and fields to try and coax her back to sleep. The sleep was absent but the space it left was filled with a warming memory that I keep returning to.

A couple of quick snaps from my studio space are here. The space is carved out in our busy family home and consists of a transient spot on our dining table and a couple of shelves in a neighbouring cupboard. It might not be the studio space of my Pinterest dreams but it’s treated me well so far.

Wildflowers and Grasses at a wildflower campsite, oil pastel in my sketchbook