ART – Page 3 – Tim O'Hare

Cotehele Quay, Cornwall #art

Back in August 2024, whilst running the second half of the West Devon Way from Peter Tavy to Okehampton, I managed to land heavily on my left leg, jolting the knee inwards. At the time, it was just one of those slightly missed steps that occurs when out running on rough terrain, but in the next couple of days I found myself in a fair amount of pain, with my left knee feeling oddly loose and unstable. The pain subsided, and by the following weekend I was able to test myself out with a short run. Yes, okay, there was some reaction afterwards, but would it stop me completing my plan to run a section of the South West Coast Path from Par Beach to Looe a week later? What do you think?

Sometimes in life one makes mistakes… On Thursday 29th August, after being dropped at Plymouth Railway Station, I caught the 0747 train to Par, and having jogged the mile or so from Par Station to the beach, at 09:28 I began my self-propelled journey west. It was a beautiful sunny day, giving me spectacular coastal views and some great running… but by the time I reached Fowey, almost six miles into the route and having rounded Gribbin Head, my leg was screaming at me that it was sore… very sore. Did I do the sensible thing, and call it a day? You’ve probably gathered by now that the answer to that question is ‘no’. Instead, having cross the River Fowey on the passenger ferry, I climbed out of Polruan to begin the(how shall I put this?) somewhat undulating section of the path that would eventually take me to Looe, ten miles or so further along the coast. It was not a good decision – for undulating read brutally up and down and blisteringly hot… By the time I reached Looe I was hobbling along, and hardly able to run at all. It got worse. My wife had driven over to pick me up and in time it took us to drive home again my leg had decided that it wasn’t really interested in moving anymore – so it didn’t.

What followed was an initial period when my left knee felt like it could collapse on me at any time, and when it wasn’t making that threat it was clunking nauseatingly, as some internal part of it moved in a way that it clearly wasn’t supposed to. So, I rested up, took things carefully, and went to see a Sports Therapist who agreed with my self-diagnosis – that I had damaged my Medial Collateral Ligament (which is located on the inside of the knee joint and acts to prevent, or at least limit, unwanted inward movement). Over the next few months I paid regular visits to the clinic for ultrasound treatment, nerve stimulation and massage, and I completed (not especially diligently) a set of stretches designed to improve the overall strength and mobility of my leg. Things sort of got better…

Just before Christmas, still experiencing pain, especially after I had been sitting down for any length of time (which is essentially how I spend the bulk of my days…), and still unable to run, I switched to seeing a Physiotherapist. She immediately targeted my hamstring and quad to carry out some excruciatingly painful massage and trigger-point needling. Things continued to sort of get better…

In January, I caught a bad cold, had to cancel a physio appointment, and following the resulting unplanned period of rest and inactivity, found that my leg was definitely starting to feel quite a lot better. It made me wonder whether that was what my leg really needed – complete rest, or as close to complete rest as I could get – and so I avoided walking as much as I could (getting a lift into work), and waited for time to do its job (which, as I write this at the end of February, it is still doing…).

All of which is a very long-winded way of explaining why, one Sunday afternoon towards the end of January, with us unable to go out for a walk anywhere, I drove down to The Box (museum) in Plymouth where I subsequently sat with a coffee and some of my drawing and painting gear while my wife walked down to meet me and hour or so later. I didn’t have any kind of plan, but after a quick search for interesting images of local places, I selected a photograph of Cotehele Quay on the Cornish side of the River Tamar about ten miles north of where I sat and set to work.

The picture at the start of this entry is the result. I was a bit limited by the range of watercolour pans that I had with me, but it’s a reasonably satisfying little picture with some nice details, and I think it captures the overall feel of the place fairly well. It was certainly an interesting experience to sit painting in a public place (not that I was aware that any of the people around me really noticed what I was doing) and something that I am sure I will do again. It would be better, of course, to be sitting out in nature actually looking at the view I am painting, but for that to happen it seems that I will need to remain patient a little longer…

Plymouth Waterfront and Tinside Lido #art

Last summer, we had stayed in a tiny AirBnB in the garden of a house near Hebden Bridge in Yorkshire and loved the red-clay crockery that was provided for us to use so much that when we found out that it was hand-made by the owner, a highly-skilled potter, we asked tentatively asked if she could some like it for us, thinking that it would be way beyond our price-range if she could, and were pleasantly surprised to learn that she could and that it wasn’t. After a delay of a few months, while we waited for our new kitchen to be finally in place and she worked on other jobs, we received a big box of plates, bowls and mugs. Unfortunately, in that first delivery there were two or three breakages and one or two pieces that we were told were not up to standard (but looked fine to us) and so we had to wait a little longer for everything to be made and be with us. A few weeks ago the final package arrived and we were so pleased with our acquisition (apparently it has only been made before for a couple of fancy tapas restaurants somewhere in London) that we wanted to send a card as a thank you for all of the effort that went into fulfilling our order, including making replacement and a few extra pieces as we decided that we did want mugs after all.

So, I sat down to paint a picture to make the card with and was faced with a decision: what to paint? I thought about painting a countryside scene from somewhere near the holiday let or one local to us (e.g. Dartmoor) but in the end I plumped for a view of Plymouth waterfront and found a suitable photograph online to use as a basis. I was really pleased with how the resulting picture ended up – it is the first time that I have tried to capture such a large built-up area in a painting and whilst the size of the picture (~10 x 15cm) means (deliberately) that there is little scope for lots of detail, I’m happy with the extent to which I have worked in sufficient detail to capture the main features of the buildings in the foreground and enough of their sense in the background.

Subsequently, I have been exploring getting some of my artwork printed with a view to seeing whether anyone might part with a little of their hard-earned cash for any of it in the future, and as a test piece I got my Plymouth Waterfront picture printed as an A6 postcard using the cropped version shown below. I’m really please with how the postcards have come out and I now have a staggeringly large number of them that I will, at some point, either sell or give away!

A Watercolour Sketch for Valentine’s Day #art

Yesterday was 14th February, commonly known as Valentine’s Day – a day for celebrating the romance in your life and letting your ‘special person’ know that you love them. I have to admit though that I am not known for my romantic gestures, or for expressing my emotions (fortunately for me, neither is my wife!), so in our household, Valentine’s Day is not a day filled with red roses, soft music and a candlelit dinner. Nevertheless, we do acknowledge Valentine’s Day in our own way, and this year I spent an enjoyable hour painting a watercolour sketch to turn into a special card. I based the painting on a photograph that I found online of a couple sitting on a bench looking out towards a magnificent view. It’s the kind of bench and the kind of view that my wife and I enjoy sitting on (the picture also had the advantage that I didn’t need to try to paint the faces of the happy couple…). I personalized the couple’s clothing and the colours of their hair and the caps that they are waving just enough so that the couple in the painting could certainly be us.

I’m glad to report that the card and the picture were very well received – evidence, I think, that it means far more to have taken the time to produce something personal and meaningful for the love of your life than to fork out a few quid for a generic heart or flower themed card and a bunch of flowers from the supermarket!

The Hutong Bagel Co, Plymouth #art

I seem to be on a bit of a run with my art at the moment as I managed to grab half an hour this morning to quickly paint a little ink and watercolour picture of one of Plymouth’s most popular cafes, The Hutong Bagel Co, located right next to the entrance of the Royal William Yard. (Ironically, being off sick from work with a streaming cold has had the benefit of giving me a bit of extra time to myself even though I still ended up doing work tasks during most of the day).

These little ink and watercolour sketches, which are approximately 7cm x 4cm in size, work best when there is some kind of building or solid structure in them to provide some hard edges and a clear focal point. In addition, I’m deliberately playing with the idea of producing pictures of the premises of various local cafes and shops.

I’m also trying to be brave and sprinkle a few people into my pictures when I can and although I am absolutely hopeless if I try to include any details I’m quite pleased that I seem to have found a way to capture the crowd of people standing outside the cafe without having to stray into the territory of their hands, noses, eyes and ears!

So here it is, my quick mini-watercolour of The Hutong Bagel Co.

The Royal Oak and a view between Meavy and Burrator #art

Today I have been suffering from a horrible fluey-cold which has left me feeling unable to do very much – a somewhat frustrating occurrence given that it is Sunday. But one positive of being forced into relative inactivity by illness is that as well as being unable to do very much I also don’t feel that I need to do anything very much and as a result I was able to sit down for an hour or so just now to do a little painting. At the outset it was my intention to do one quick miniature watercolour landscape and after a quick look in the photo library on my phone I decided that The Royal Oak pub in Meavy about 10 miles from here on the edge of Dartmoor would be my subject. The photo I based the picture on was one taken at end end of last month on the last proper walk that we have done (see: Out and About Again At Last) – it shows the pub closed and on a rather dull day so perhaps it was not the most inspiring choice. Nevertheless, I am still quite pleased with how it came out and that I managed not to over complicate it.

Having completed this picture I was still in the mood for creating art and so I switched my focus to another photo taken on the same day showing a view from the woodland path between Meavy and Burrator…

View from path between Meavy and Burrator

I’m reasonably happy with this second picture. I think the Silver Birch tree on the left has come out fairly well and I like the clump of trees on the horizon but I don’t think I have fully captured the texture of the leafless trees in the middle ground or the spires of gorse in the foreground. Despite its faults, I think I have captured the general impression reasonably well and I’m also pleased to have got in a bit more practice in quickly producing this kind of miniature landscape picture. I’m thinking about trying to produce pictures of this type more often (‘dailyish’ if I can) and I may have a go at seeing whether they might sell for a few pounds somewhere one day.

Stone Circle, Dartmoor #art

Back in April I decided I would like to have a go at sketching and painting. I have often thought about trying to do watercolour painting but my natural tendency towards perfectionism and my inability to carve out time for such activities has always put paid to those ideas. Back in Primary School – 50 or so years ago – I was quite into drawing and painting (without any particular flair) but in the intervening years I have hardly picked up a sketching pen or paint set. So, it was a bit of an impulse decision when I decided to work my way through a free video course on drawing and painting with ‘loose lines’ earlier this year. The course consisted of ten short videos that gave prompts to follow and, importantly, encouraged imperfection and embracing of mistakes (one of the practice tasks included instructions to deliberately make mistakes which I will admit I found hard to follow).

After just a few days of working through the course I was branching out to do more ambitious pieces and soon found myself starting to develop my own style. Since then I have been producing pictures on a fairly regular basis – mostly quick (15-30 minute), small watercolour landscapes and usually with quite a lot of detail put in with black ink. Producing these little works of art has been something I have greatly enjoyed and even though I say it myself the final pieces have been pretty good and certainly much better than I expected them to be given that I have a complete lack of technical training and zero experience to guide me. I just try things out, play and see what happens.

Over the weekend just gone I sat down for half an hour or so and decided I would have a go at producing a watercolour painting without doing what I usually do which is to first draw out the subject in a fair amount of detail in ink and then subsequently add more detail in ink on top of the paint. I have called this a ‘minimal ink’ watercolour (I did put a few small details in after I had completed the painting). I chose a photo of a stone circle on Dartmoor as my subject matter. The result is the picture at the top of this post and it is one that I am really pleased with. I am pleased with the sky as I have captured the colours and cloud shapes better than any sky I have painted previously and I am pleased with the oranges and pinks in the colour of the moorland. Most of all I am pleased that I have extended the range of my art a little more by limiting my use of ink and creating something that is a little less detailed and a little more impressionistic. It is certainly a style that I will have a go at again sometime.

Rediscovering the Artist Within

When I was in Primary School I was pretty good at drawing. I remember winning a prize for an art-based project to capture a week-long residential trip we made to Tenby in South Wales and my teacher being thrilled at being able to keep a detailed pen and ink drawing I made of a monastery building in Pembrokeshire which was where she was from (Pembrokeshire that is, not the monastery). I never really got on with art at Secondary School. I think perhaps I didn’t have the patience to stick to a task long enough to turn out something worthwhile and there were 101 other things that I could be doing that grabbed my attention instead. But I have always wanted to learn to draw properly, to take up water-colour painting (perhaps not the best choice as I think it is actually one of the more difficult types of paint to use) or to have some kind of (graphic) artistic endeavour that I could lose myself in. I think I like the idea of being a wanderer, stopping here and there to whip out my art materials and conjure up a piece of magic. It’s never happened of course – life has got in the way.

My most recent attempt to get a brush-hold in the artistic world was towards the end of 2022. At a Maker Fair in South Devon in November I saw some pieces of artwork that I really liked – big abstract pastel drawings of wind-swept Dartmoor landscapes – and that led me to suggest that Father Christmas might like to give me some pastel crayons and drawing paper so that I could have a go at producing something similar. FC duly obliged and I was all geared up and ready to go…

…but time passed and, of course, it didn’t happen – life got in the way…

A couple of days ago, more than a year after I was gifted the materials, I settled myself down and had a play. I have to confess that the reason I finally got to make art that afternoon was that whilst out on a walk with my wife the day before I had been musing about how bad I am at getting myself to do the things that I say that I want to do (my self-analysis tells me that this is a combined result of three things: i) a continuous feeling of guilt that I hold inside me that there is something more important that I should be doing for someone else, ii) a ridiculously crippling tendency towards perfectionism that stops me starting things so that I don’t have to run the risk of the outcomes not being good enough and iii) the fact that my brain is always distracting itself to think about other things leaving me completely unable to decide what I will settle down to do in any given moment). My wife’s response was to suggest that we set aside the following afternoon for us both to make some art and because she had fixed that as a plan it was then possible for me to follow it through (I have no problem doing things when other people ask or tell me to do them!).

The result was that I spent a couple of hours with my little pack of pastel crayons and drawing paper and without any real idea about how to use them to best effect I just picked a photograph to base the picture on and dived in… What I discovered is that pastel crayons are a perfect medium for me to use because they seem to be very forgiving. I started with just a little colour and gradually built up the picture from the top downwards not thinking to much but just feeling what colour I would place where, how hard I would press, how much I would blend or smudge colours etc. and, amazingly, the results came out far better than I could ever have hoped. One good decision I made was to start small – with some postcard-sized paper – as this meant that I could produce a finished picture in less than an hour.

My first picture was from a photograph I took when visiting Langport in Somerset back in October. It’s a view from a bench across the River Parrett. I’ll add the photograph to the end of this post but here’s the picture that I drew:

My initial reflection was that I could have used a little more solid color but, on the other hand, I quite liked the rather sparse and washed-out look.

Having made a start with one picture I kept going, immediately setting to work on a second picture, this time a view of the Yealm Estuary near Warren Point (again, see the end of this post for the original photograph). This second picture ended up with much denser colour and if viewed from a distance almost has a photographic quality about it. The paper I used was very rough/bobbly hand-made paper which led to an interesting pointillism-like effect. I also added a few details with a fine ink pen – something that I think was only partly successful. Again, I am rather please with the result:

All of which means that I seem to have magically found myself being an artist and I am absolutely sure that it will not be long before I am having another go because I loved the deep-concentration and freedom of the process. When producing these pictures I was able to completely lose myself in the flow of the work, almost becoming part of it – in fact on reflection I would definitely say that the word art became a verb describing how I chose to spend a little piece of my life (I was ‘arting’) and not simply a noun describing the little pieces of coloured paper that I ended up with. Now I am really looking forward to seeing where this new pursuit takes me!

For completeness, here are the two photographs on which my first two pictures were based: