I envy your snowscapes. Where I live in my part of North Yorkshire all we have is icy cold winds and deep frosts which my hens do not like. Their water is frozen and I found one old hen dead in the hen house this morning whether she succumbed to the cold or old age I do not know. I noticed she had separated herself from the flock yesterday which is always a sign but she was showing no signs of illness. Very sad morning.
Oh I am sorry about your old hen - we do get so fond of them with their funny, chatty ways! My hens are a bit spoiled as I have given them the run of the empty polyunnel for the winter, but the nights are still cold and I do worry about my oldest girl when the temperature drops.
Wow what a beautiful piece of writing (and your paintings). I love the idea of deep attention - attending, being present. I'm reading a book called Renaturing. It feels like deep attention. Thank you as always for sharing.
I have a book I read many years ago called Thomas Merton, Master of Attention. In it the author (Robert Waldron) suggests that Merton's method of prayer was akin to Simone Weil's emphasis on attention as prayer ("Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer", from Gravity and Grace.) I think I mentioned this at the talk you did at the Bowhouse. So sorry for repeating myself! But I find it fascinating, as someone who tries to practice meditation, and who wants to find a way into creative expression that attention could be the key...... thanks for the reminder.
Feeling snow envy reading these words and seeing the beautiful pictures. I was especially intrigued by the self-formed and wind-rolled snow balls! It made me immediately imagine some invisible creatures having fun in the snow, which also chimes in with your words about attention and imagination. The relationship between imagination, attention and the world feels like such a mystery. As in what you say about how vision works: we somehow need to fill in the gaps, make the leap between what we can observe or experience and how we meet and interpret the world. But while this 'filling in the gaps' is what enables us to grasp the world it can also lead us astray as when we start telling ourselves and others all sorts of stories about the world and about the others (whether human or more than human) who we share this world with, sometimes with detrimental consequences.
“I wanted to capture the way the raking winter sunlight strafed across the granular surface of the snow, but my camera just couldn’t catch the vibrant, living quality of the light, how it shimmered between a warm, peachy yellow in the highlights and cool lavender-blue in the shadows.”
A delight, as always Samantha, reading this fresh post for 2026. Your sharing of information about our seeing and hearing, and our brains’ ability to “fill in the blanks” helps my brain remain active at 76 yo.
Let me wish you good fortune in reaching Edinburgh on the 10th. I feel certain that your recalibration in emphasis for your paintings will enhance your appeal to novices and experts alike, Sam.
Joyous return, so good to have you back and so enlivened. How funny you had snow in both Japan and the UK as a comparison in such a short space of time. I was fascinated by your description of how we see, thank you. Great photos and your work too. See you later on Life Raft.
I envy your snowscapes. Where I live in my part of North Yorkshire all we have is icy cold winds and deep frosts which my hens do not like. Their water is frozen and I found one old hen dead in the hen house this morning whether she succumbed to the cold or old age I do not know. I noticed she had separated herself from the flock yesterday which is always a sign but she was showing no signs of illness. Very sad morning.
Oh I am sorry about your old hen - we do get so fond of them with their funny, chatty ways! My hens are a bit spoiled as I have given them the run of the empty polyunnel for the winter, but the nights are still cold and I do worry about my oldest girl when the temperature drops.
Lovely. Your third photo from top is exceptional and beautiful.
Thanks Kirsty!
Wow what a beautiful piece of writing (and your paintings). I love the idea of deep attention - attending, being present. I'm reading a book called Renaturing. It feels like deep attention. Thank you as always for sharing.
Oooh sounds my like kind of read - I’ll look it up!
Renaturing: Small Ways to Wild the World https://share.google/b6kPMhmsihCwPBDMf
I have a book I read many years ago called Thomas Merton, Master of Attention. In it the author (Robert Waldron) suggests that Merton's method of prayer was akin to Simone Weil's emphasis on attention as prayer ("Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer", from Gravity and Grace.) I think I mentioned this at the talk you did at the Bowhouse. So sorry for repeating myself! But I find it fascinating, as someone who tries to practice meditation, and who wants to find a way into creative expression that attention could be the key...... thanks for the reminder.
Agree! The words "To learn how to still the mind and the busy self: “this is the task,” she insists." hit home to me.
Your post is so beautiful, like a meditation. It has left me feeling quieter in spirit. Thank you.
So lovely! Thank you.
Feeling snow envy reading these words and seeing the beautiful pictures. I was especially intrigued by the self-formed and wind-rolled snow balls! It made me immediately imagine some invisible creatures having fun in the snow, which also chimes in with your words about attention and imagination. The relationship between imagination, attention and the world feels like such a mystery. As in what you say about how vision works: we somehow need to fill in the gaps, make the leap between what we can observe or experience and how we meet and interpret the world. But while this 'filling in the gaps' is what enables us to grasp the world it can also lead us astray as when we start telling ourselves and others all sorts of stories about the world and about the others (whether human or more than human) who we share this world with, sometimes with detrimental consequences.
“I wanted to capture the way the raking winter sunlight strafed across the granular surface of the snow, but my camera just couldn’t catch the vibrant, living quality of the light, how it shimmered between a warm, peachy yellow in the highlights and cool lavender-blue in the shadows.”
If the camera is an eye, it has cataracts!
Nature offered a welcoming blanket so you could acclimate slowly. 💙🩵🤍
A delight, as always Samantha, reading this fresh post for 2026. Your sharing of information about our seeing and hearing, and our brains’ ability to “fill in the blanks” helps my brain remain active at 76 yo.
Let me wish you good fortune in reaching Edinburgh on the 10th. I feel certain that your recalibration in emphasis for your paintings will enhance your appeal to novices and experts alike, Sam.
Beautiful writing and observations. I always appreciate how you introduce me to new writers and artists; always inspiring.
It's a bit touch and go whether I can attend this afternoon as I have a lot of work on. Hopefully see you and the crew.
Best wishes
Michael
Joyous return, so good to have you back and so enlivened. How funny you had snow in both Japan and the UK as a comparison in such a short space of time. I was fascinated by your description of how we see, thank you. Great photos and your work too. See you later on Life Raft.