A bit of history…..
From the early 14th century, the Anglo-Scottish borderlands witnessed intense periods of warfare/disorder and consequently ‘borderers’ have suffered unimaginably for three hundred years, with much blood being shed on either side. Forced by extreme circumstances sheep and cattle raiding seemed to be the main event of the day, and the ‘Reivers’ as they are called, hold a bloody history with livestock being taken to and fro so many times that its no wonder why sheep seem so confused today. You can imagine the sheep as the raiders come towards them…..

“ewwwee we go again”

The Tarset archive group held a Bastle weekend, with lectures and visits to local sites, which me and co-pilot eagerly attended. A Bastle is a fortified farmhouse built in stone. The walls are typically a metre length thick and stones are so large you wonder how on earth they placed them there.


These buildings were common along border country dating from 1600’s and can been seen both sides of the border offering some kind of protection from raiders. They are two storey dwellings with livestock on the lower level and the family on top. There are some magnificent examples of such buildings around Tarset, however some are little more than a few stones.

It was a fascinating event that was also accompanied by an evening meal; ate the best tasting lamb I’ve ever tasted, farmed locally by the David and Maureen McCracken (www.tarset.co.uk/lamb). Got to hear some traditional songs and my first Northumberland pipes, which to my shock & surprise was actually rather beautiful. It was all quite memorizing. It made me realise that I was sitting in a room full of people that were passionate about their surroundings & traditions, and were not only talented, interesting, and amusing, they were also extremely friendly too …... phew!

So after an excellent week it was time for co-pilot to return to Bristol, which meant……arrrrgghhhh solo navigation. Now some may find this an easy task, and some, like myself, find it a rather daunting prospect to drive along miles and miles of open moorland with not one streetlight or building to orientate by.



And of course without light there is dark…real dark, oh, not to mention extreme rain….oh and extreme fog! Oh….. and did I point out that the petrol gauge is dodgy, oh and the lack of mobile phone signal around. So after depositing Heather at Newcastle airport I nervously set off. But with all the above, I think you can appreciate why I clutched the steering wheel so hard that I left indents, and the reason for the permanent smear left by my nose pressed to close to the window screen. To my relief I managed to find my way home, even though it was at a steady pace of 2 miles per hour; I did however, manage to break the world speed record on downing a can of larger (in one) to celebrate safe return.

With Heathers departure it was mentally the beginning of my artist residency, which I had been itching to start for ages. I did bring a few strange items with me (which on request I can list), one item was a treasured stick found at a Buddhist retreat in Devon six years ago. Now this of course is no ordinary stick, and I’ve always wanted to take it on an artist retreat.

As it was time to establish a routine of living and art, I wanted to set some projects in motion, and the first would involve a stick, a pedometer, walking and myself. So every day (accept Sunday, the accepted common day of rest) I set out come rain, sun, hail or snow with my stick and pedometer and go for a walk. As soon as I get back I record the data from the pedometer and write my walking diary. I consider myself pretty unfit when it comes to walking so this is also a personal endeavour to push the boundaries of my body further.

Furthermore the stick gets marked for everyday I am in Northumberland. This diary and data will then be used in an artwork at a later stage. So my first week’s data came to:

Steps: 33,201
Km: 18.22
Kcal: 1,720.4
Mins: 293

Apart from the stunning scenery and considering I am in a remote location almost every-day you meet someone and chat. I noticed on one walk a strange sign on a telegraph pole, which I have never seen before,
recommending not to climb fore mentioned pole, now call me old fashioned, but I for one have never been stricken by the impulse to climb a telegraph pole, for one, there does not seem any easy access, they tend to be just straight vertical poles, which as far as I can tell has no hidden steps, and would seem an arduous task indeed. Health and safety working overtime again me thinks!

I initially thought it would be a good idea to draw for one hour each day on a single large piece of paper for the whole of my residency. However even though there is some interesting mark making going on I am struggling with this notion, just on a practical level I don’t think the paper will last a whole year, and quite frankly it looks a complete mess. I am considering abandoning this idea already but have not fully made a decision yet!

On a more successful note I have been experimenting with vellum (skin parchment that comes from, I imagine, a not so happy goat), so far this has been really exciting. It is intended for a project I have been thinking about for some time on the history of heart surgery. At the tender age of eleven I had heart surgery to repair a hole; and at the tender age of 45 I am fascinated by the history of its development. I intend to make an artwork concerning this. I discovered that burning the skin with a soldering iron made beautiful marks, the downside of course is the smell of burnt skin whilst doing this. So apart from perhaps inventing a mask that produces nice smells such as lavender or gin and tonic I will pursue this further.

Over and out…week two done!