The end, slowly stalking me at first took a running leap and knocked me square off my Black Isle residency. I saw signs, the pang of sadness when I bought milk whose expiry date surpassed my final day and the realisation the high tide times had turned full circle, completing their monthly loop.
Drawing open the curtains on the final day I still feel the rush of glee from being able to admire the seashore from my window. It’s the glee of a landlocked child who 90s holiday car trips became entrenched in a sibling rivalry of who could see first, or more over who could shout “I can see the sea!” the quickest and loudest. The winners vigilance was rewarded with smug satisfaction.
I walk down to the shore, it’s a cloudy day and the sea looks like molten lead. Returning the cow skull to the fields where I found it I say a silent goodbye to the hillside I’ve called home for the last month.
To conclude my time with the Cromarty Arts Trust we put on an exhibition of my studio work: The Village Lady. The Trust has acquired the stable block from the 18th century Cromarty House mansion and converted them into a beautiful gallery space, it was a pleasure to be offered a chance to show there.
Central to the exhibition was a makeshift table I built from stacking found wood, and dressing it with old china plates and my clay ‘cutlery’ modelled on bones. Dinner for two.
The girl set off, the bzou set off, and the bzou reached Grandmother’s cottage first. He quickly killed the old woman and gobbled her up, flesh, blood, and bone – except for a bit of flesh that he put in a little dish on the pantry shelf, and except for a bit of blood that he drained into a little bottle. Then the bzou dressed in Grandmother’s cap and shawl and climbed into bed.
When the girl arrived, the bzou called out, “Pull the peg and come in, my child.”
“Grandmother,” said the girl, “Mother sent me here with a galette and a cream.”
“Put them in the pantry, child. Are you hungry?
“Yes, I am, Grandmother.”
“Then cook the meat that you’ll find on the shelf. Are you thirsty?”
“Yes, I am, Grandmother.”
“Then drink the bottle of wine you’ll find on the shelf beside it, child.”
As the young girl cooked and ate the meat, a little cat piped up and cried, “You are eating the flesh are your grandmother!”
“Throw your shoe at that noisy cat,” said the bzou, and so she did.
As she drank the wine, a small bird cried, “You are drinking the blood of your grandmother!”
“Throw your other shoe at that noisy bird,” said the bzou, and so she did.
When she finished her meal, the bzou said, “Are you tired from your journey, child? Then take off your clothes, come to bed, and I shall warm you up.”
A clay ‘teapot’ and ‘basket (image in previous blog)’ were displayed on tree trunk plinths and mix media paintings provided wall cover. The opening reception was very enjoyable, and I could be mistaken but I’m sure everyone who came on the opening night waited around for a chance to talk to me, which I’m very appreciative of. The Cromarty Arts Trust bought one of my paintings for their collection too so I can now proudly add them to the list of Public Collections that my works is held in.
It’s a dry day when I leave, that turns to showers when we reach Edinburgh. Thank you Cromarty Arts Trust, Creative Scotland and the Royal Scottish Academy for such an enjoyable, enriching and rewarding experience.
