I'm relatively new to your substack but I've enjoyed absolutely everything I've seen and read very much so far. Very much hope the exhibition is on long enough for me to maybe make it up to Edinburgh (I'm in Liverpool) to see :-)
This painting is incredible. I wish I could see it in person. Thank you for sharing your creative process as it has unfolded. And, I’m saving this piece on time as I’m reflecting on this topic in my own place and time.
Oh I'm looking forward to reading that Kim! And thank you, it's been a long journey through thankfully, this one's been straightforward, emerging without too many wrong turns and ponderings en route!
“ I want to see the beauty, depth and complexity of that moment we call ‘now’ and hold it just long enough to share it so I can then let it go and still know it has been, because it has left some trace behind, in the connections made, the other lives touched, however fleetingly.”
Samantha, your “now” is penetrating, alive, and so very generous, reaching out to meet our “now’s” and enriching them through your dedicated, deeply reflective art. Thank you.
Congratulations, Sam, for finishing and your decision to omit a final layer. Your lesson in geology, and ancient passages of Earth’s epochs, caused me to think. When we venture out and decide we’re “present,” we might ask ourselves, “Present in what era?” A weathered boulder has both existed and been transformed through time. Sedimentary layers? The same is applicable.
You mentioned the incessant falling of rain and the destruction that results. You likely know of our recent version of that, Helene, that washed away vast amounts of “place” in mountainous areas of six states.
Now, “Milton” is about to make landfall overnight! I quipped to my niece that this could be just the moment to read John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Regaining Paradise in this metaphorical analogy will take many lifetimes of effort.
I so very much enjoyed the spider that posed amidst your web! Here I’ve watched Golden Orb spiders (yes, the very ones from Charlotte’s Web) work with the deliberation that you employ, both skillfully. Brava, Sam.
Thank you Gary. Yes, Appalachia, Florida, and the many other places suffering under deluges are very much in all our thoughts, as are those suffering deluges of artillery. And may we all have the diligence and wisdom of spiders. Our house is full of Harvestman spiders. When the sun slants in certain directions you can see the whole place is delicately garlanded with their filaments - perhaps a subliminal inspiration...
I recently saw a formal dress made entirely of golden web spider filament. The reflected light from her dress appeared to shimmer. The deluges of artillery, precision bombs, and tanks are so unjust and horrifying. Power and humanity seem mutually exclusive. Thanks for your comments, Sam.
Love the way this piece weaves language through the net of time-space. The words incant making me feel I’m, at once, inside the magic that is thought and outside looking in. Thank you for that experience.
Loved your words about time and place... magical and set my mood for the day. Saw Outrun last night and still hear the sea booming against those ancient Orcadian rocks X
Your art and your words are both things of such intricate and deep beauty. I love the layering in both, and the way they weave through one another here. The painting is just astonishing - congratulations on finishing it.
Beautiful. So many passages to pause on and appreciate.
Beside the one I restacked, which felt like the core, I especiaaly loved “The sea stacks and cliffs of the West Mainland offer up fine sedimentary layers that peel away in winter storms, like the pages of a book, to reveal the trace of a tide that ebbed 400 million years ago,” and all of the discussion of the painting itself, as a carrier of time.
Yes, the geology is amazing. The stone splits in layers, and you really can see ripples like ribbed sand in the stone, markes where mud cracked and dried out, even raindrops that fell in the Devonian. It boggles the mind.
This work is a treasure. I remember your feelings at the beginning of your commitment to this piece. Now that it is present it is as if it was always there, just waiting to show its-self, and yet it was hours of work that made it appear. It is such a fascinating process, leaving our traces.
Thank you for reminding me how much I love encountering these thoughts of walking in the shoes of others, Ramsgate is full of these moments, the air is thick with these glimpses. Just a simple walk for daily provisions can take me through the Napoleonic Wars, Vincent Van Gough's brief stay, Suffragette meetings, and of course the sea is ever the backdrop. Perhaps less available but still here earlier settlements lie beneath the contemporary layers. Although still the wrong sea, this place is endlessly fascinating.
Thank you for sharing.
Looking forward to news of Edinburgh, I so hope I/we will be in a position to visit.
I love this idea that once it's done, it's as if it was always there, just waiting to be revealed, if not by me then by someone else. Ramsgate sounds like a fascinating place. And of course we weave our own personal web throughout it too - whenever I go back to Edinburgh I'm reminded of people and events and places from my 30 years living there. It seems like every other street has a window onto a room I've been in at some time or other, a shop that used to be something else...Cities are, if anything, even more densely storied than somewhere like Orkney, but, as you say, often concealed by what's been built over it.
I love this post Sam and I love your new painting. I can see all those layers of history and geology building up, it's fascinating. I watched the Outrun film last week and I wonder if you loved it as much as I did. Hope you have a great day ❤️
Thank you Maria. Oh yes, it's a wonderful film and doesn't give too saccharine a view of what it's like in an Orkney winter. Still, it might be quite busy round these parts next summer if eveyone decides to come visit the locations! I hope you can come see the new work in the flesh when it's on show in Edinburgh.
Lovely to connect with you Sandolore - another thickening of the web! I love your photos of Edinburgh, another place that's thick with the past, including 30 years of mine...
I'm relatively new to your substack but I've enjoyed absolutely everything I've seen and read very much so far. Very much hope the exhibition is on long enough for me to maybe make it up to Edinburgh (I'm in Liverpool) to see :-)
Welcome aboard, Barbara!
Beautiful piece of writing, Sam.
Thank you, Jan! Very much enjoying your Substack too - one I always bookmark for a proper read.
Thank you. That means a lot. I’m experimenting a wee but after being a ‘verbiage machine’ for too many years x
This painting is incredible. I wish I could see it in person. Thank you for sharing your creative process as it has unfolded. And, I’m saving this piece on time as I’m reflecting on this topic in my own place and time.
Oh I'm looking forward to reading that Kim! And thank you, it's been a long journey through thankfully, this one's been straightforward, emerging without too many wrong turns and ponderings en route!
“ I want to see the beauty, depth and complexity of that moment we call ‘now’ and hold it just long enough to share it so I can then let it go and still know it has been, because it has left some trace behind, in the connections made, the other lives touched, however fleetingly.”
Samantha, your “now” is penetrating, alive, and so very generous, reaching out to meet our “now’s” and enriching them through your dedicated, deeply reflective art. Thank you.
Thank you so much Kimberly - it means a lot to hear that. Truly.
Congratulations, Sam, for finishing and your decision to omit a final layer. Your lesson in geology, and ancient passages of Earth’s epochs, caused me to think. When we venture out and decide we’re “present,” we might ask ourselves, “Present in what era?” A weathered boulder has both existed and been transformed through time. Sedimentary layers? The same is applicable.
You mentioned the incessant falling of rain and the destruction that results. You likely know of our recent version of that, Helene, that washed away vast amounts of “place” in mountainous areas of six states.
Now, “Milton” is about to make landfall overnight! I quipped to my niece that this could be just the moment to read John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Regaining Paradise in this metaphorical analogy will take many lifetimes of effort.
I so very much enjoyed the spider that posed amidst your web! Here I’ve watched Golden Orb spiders (yes, the very ones from Charlotte’s Web) work with the deliberation that you employ, both skillfully. Brava, Sam.
Thank you Gary. Yes, Appalachia, Florida, and the many other places suffering under deluges are very much in all our thoughts, as are those suffering deluges of artillery. And may we all have the diligence and wisdom of spiders. Our house is full of Harvestman spiders. When the sun slants in certain directions you can see the whole place is delicately garlanded with their filaments - perhaps a subliminal inspiration...
I recently saw a formal dress made entirely of golden web spider filament. The reflected light from her dress appeared to shimmer. The deluges of artillery, precision bombs, and tanks are so unjust and horrifying. Power and humanity seem mutually exclusive. Thanks for your comments, Sam.
Love the way this piece weaves language through the net of time-space. The words incant making me feel I’m, at once, inside the magic that is thought and outside looking in. Thank you for that experience.
Wonderful! Thank you so much, Kathryn!
Loved your words about time and place... magical and set my mood for the day. Saw Outrun last night and still hear the sea booming against those ancient Orcadian rocks X
I can hear it now! A windy night 💨💨💨
Fantastic! Well done. Must feel so good being on the other side.
Beautiful painting and besutiful words.
Thank you Richard!
Your art and your words are both things of such intricate and deep beauty. I love the layering in both, and the way they weave through one another here. The painting is just astonishing - congratulations on finishing it.
Thank you Rebecca. I've one more large panel like this waiting for me next in the queue!
Beautiful. So many passages to pause on and appreciate.
Beside the one I restacked, which felt like the core, I especiaaly loved “The sea stacks and cliffs of the West Mainland offer up fine sedimentary layers that peel away in winter storms, like the pages of a book, to reveal the trace of a tide that ebbed 400 million years ago,” and all of the discussion of the painting itself, as a carrier of time.
Yes, the geology is amazing. The stone splits in layers, and you really can see ripples like ribbed sand in the stone, markes where mud cracked and dried out, even raindrops that fell in the Devonian. It boggles the mind.
Extraordinary, It boggles the mind indeed.
This work is a treasure. I remember your feelings at the beginning of your commitment to this piece. Now that it is present it is as if it was always there, just waiting to show its-self, and yet it was hours of work that made it appear. It is such a fascinating process, leaving our traces.
Thank you for reminding me how much I love encountering these thoughts of walking in the shoes of others, Ramsgate is full of these moments, the air is thick with these glimpses. Just a simple walk for daily provisions can take me through the Napoleonic Wars, Vincent Van Gough's brief stay, Suffragette meetings, and of course the sea is ever the backdrop. Perhaps less available but still here earlier settlements lie beneath the contemporary layers. Although still the wrong sea, this place is endlessly fascinating.
Thank you for sharing.
Looking forward to news of Edinburgh, I so hope I/we will be in a position to visit.
I love this idea that once it's done, it's as if it was always there, just waiting to be revealed, if not by me then by someone else. Ramsgate sounds like a fascinating place. And of course we weave our own personal web throughout it too - whenever I go back to Edinburgh I'm reminded of people and events and places from my 30 years living there. It seems like every other street has a window onto a room I've been in at some time or other, a shop that used to be something else...Cities are, if anything, even more densely storied than somewhere like Orkney, but, as you say, often concealed by what's been built over it.
I love this post Sam and I love your new painting. I can see all those layers of history and geology building up, it's fascinating. I watched the Outrun film last week and I wonder if you loved it as much as I did. Hope you have a great day ❤️
Thank you Maria. Oh yes, it's a wonderful film and doesn't give too saccharine a view of what it's like in an Orkney winter. Still, it might be quite busy round these parts next summer if eveyone decides to come visit the locations! I hope you can come see the new work in the flesh when it's on show in Edinburgh.
That would be wonderful, tell me where and when. I would love to see it in the flesh 😊❤️
Watch this space! 😉
It looks lovely. I would love to see it in person. Your work engages a lot of subjects that cross paths with my own.
Lovely to connect with you Sandolore - another thickening of the web! I love your photos of Edinburgh, another place that's thick with the past, including 30 years of mine...