Endings

My last day. I have a long list of things to do, as usual one of my unrealistic lists.

I set off up Kirk Hill, the weather looks threatening. I find some sheep bones and even a whole skull. I decide I can't carry the skull as well as cameras, tripod and recorder. I leave it a place I hope I will remember, knowing all along that we never pass by the same place twice.

On top of Kirk Hill I become fascinated with watching the weather. The Hill gives a panoramic view, I watch clouds boiling in the distance and heading my way. I film endless panoramas.

Eventually the sun comes out a little and I head down the Hill, taking some shots of the house and caravan, it all looks so tiny.

I have brought a sketch book which is a long concertina-ed piece of paper, throughout the two weeks I have been thinking of drawing Kirk Hill over and over again. One drawing per fold so that they run one onto the next. Unfortunately it is my last day and I am only just now starting.

Knitting things together..

Wake up to a sunnyish day, the clouds are moving fast overhead but there are patches of blue.

I bike to the road; on a bike that is too small. It’s much harder than on a smooth surface and I realise when it is too late to turn back that I’m wearing light trousers and the path is very muddy.

I arrive at the factory and I am given a tour. The first machine is a 90 year old machine, made by Bentley of Loughborough, a model B. It is an engineering triumph! Multiple cams, gears, and counters to control the patterns and rows. The modern digital machines seem soulless in comparison.

Later I meet with Richard and we look at various venues, there is an empty shop I really like. It would give me the opportunity to work quite large., and it has a great floor. The space in the Textile Tower is also good but there could be loads of problems to make my idea work.

I drive back as I pass a field, it is perfect, and the sheep tracks are highlighted beautifully by the sun. I hesitate and by the time I turn around and go back the light has changed and it just looks like an ordinary field.

When I get back I set out again and walk to Bald Hill, photographing flowers and thinking of colours and patterns. It is a sad ruin of a place.

Now I feel much more interest in the folder that Richard lent me about all the historical information he and Bridie have gathered. Now I see the significance of all the layers of history. I make some photocopies.

This is like the last outpost of times gone by – I think about going to the Kirk Yard but my camera is almost out of charge.

Later I walk over to Richard’s studio, the clouds are moving rapidly and the air feels heavy with potential rain. As I walk back to the caravan, there is nothing left in the sky but the remnants of the day.

Torrential Rain

Wake to torrential rain after a night of the same. The storm had been so violent I even got up to record it. My list of things to do is still long. First I photograph the photos of the mill, then the weather had brightened a little so I go to film the side of the hill.

 I like the sheep paths and wonder if I can draw connections between these and the knitting machine.

On the way there I pass over the raging Burn and have to stop to video and record it. The weather gets worse and I am frozen so I go in for tea. It is really too cold and wet to draw outside, I go in and sort more pictures into files and make images into slides. At 5 o’clock I take a break, it is cold, wet and dull and I find it hard to motivate myself so I sit and try and warm myself instead.

Later I go back to print my ‘slides’ I decide to mix in some of the other pictures I have taken, images of my sewing and of the camera to make them look old as well. Thinking about diagrams of knitting, having looked at the diagrams of stitches, etc.

Crossings

I wake as usual at 7:30 to a beautiful sunny day. I gather all my equipment and set off. The first challenge is crossing the Rankle Burn – I’m not the most confident stream crosser so it takes quite a lot of consideration. I weigh up the pros and cons of a shorter but possible deeper crossing. In the end I opt for the tried and tested route. My main concern is slipping and damaging all my audiovisual equipment! The graveyard is dark and peaceful. I find a couple of areas to film.

I continue on the circuit filming and photographing. Rain starts as I reach the clear-cut area, I shelter in the woods, but it is only light rain.

I come across some beautifully lit, mossy woodland and stay to film it – not sure what I can do with this it is too beautiful to pass by. I arrive back and recharge my video camera then set out and attempt to sew the root of an upended tree.

I end up with about 75 minutes of footage, which I capture, and sort into logical clips. More lists in the evening my time here is rapidly coming to an end – and there is still so much to do.

Lists..

A beautiful sunny day we walk up Kirk Hill – almost make it to the top – we look at aeroplane trails – I think of filming a panorama of the hills, mostly sky – not sure what I can do with it but add it to my list of things to do.

I make Brendan a lunch and a sandwich for Méabh. Richard lends us the car to get to the end of the track. It is a slow drive to Lockerbie, we arrive and I wait around on the station until they go.

When I return I sort out my files on the computer and write more lists – how can I fit everything in?
 

Talking everything over has helped to confuse and clarify things – feel like the pieces have been thrown up in the air and I have to see where they settle.

The Roberton Show

I wake about 7 there had been a huge storm through the night, both Brendan and I had considered getting up to record it, but neither of us had managed. The weather forecast on Radio Scotland advised (jokingly) that people should not to come to the Borders!

It is the day of the Roberton Show and Méabh and Brendan get up to finish off their things. I pop over to see Bridie and she is happy to take our things in. Méabh goes with them, which gives me chance to do some filming in the rain.

We go into Hawick to buy a few groceries, then back to the show. Méabh has won a 1^st and a 2^nd and Brendan is disqualified, both are delighted!

We admire some beautifully turned out sheep and some fabulous produce exhibits. 

Sadly Lily doesn’t have any luck, but Bridie wins a third for her bread. 

Printing and Picking Flowers

My plan today is to get some images printed on to acetate. I go over to Richard’s studio to google printers in the area. After several calls and searching within a 35 mile radius I conclude it will not be possible! The closest I have to a yes is a photocopy onto acetate in Hawick from a stationer but it only can be done from an image so I print out my slide ready pictures and we set off!

It is a 25 minute walk to the car then a slow drive into Hawick. It is a surprising town – much bigger than I had thought; and lots of knitwear shops. I meet Mary Morrison at Heart of Hawick, and I have the sudden thought about filming within one of the knitting mills, she advises me to ask Helen at the Textile Tower Museum who knows all the local mills. 

We have lunch and have a walk around town, then a very quick visit to the textile museum; it is a very well put together exhibit. There is some wonderful archive film of the mills; it makes me think of the deteriorated photos Richard found in the mill.

I call Shorts Mill and feeling very cheeky ask if I could do some filming, to my surprise the person I am speaking to agrees readily! And we make an appointment for Wednesday.

Then I find the printer and get my copies – the results below.
 

We return to Phenzhopehaugh and Méabh works on her exhibits for the show tomorrow, and then eat pizza. Méabh and Brendan go out in the almost dark to pick flowers with torches! 

Scattergun

Méabh and I get up early and go to pick some flowers. At first she is reluctant, but as soon as we find a stream to cross she becomes enthusiastic.

We then all go out and Brendan films me sewing with my big needle. I don't feel that I can think too much at this point, I just need to do then think about it all afterwards.

I am still unsure of what work I will end up with, at the moment I'm taking the scattergun approach to art-making.

A Feast for Midges

Got up about 7.30 and perused a book on fibre art, I thought I’d take a short walk Southeast around Kirk Hill.

I paused to do a drawing and became a feast for midges, found a spot where the surface of the earth was all that was left; the roots were hanging down, exposing the process of growth.

I came to a stream and made an attempt to cross it elegantly, which failed.

The light was extraordinary and the grass and plants were almost glowing. There was a profusion of August flowers shining out from the grass.

The path sloped upwards, but I was curious to see what was at the end. As I climbed the vegetation gently changed from the slug and wild flower strewn grasses to a much more conservative scattering of less colourful plants. As the walk continued I noticed more strange plants and started thinking about the proto-trees. An early ancestor of trees as we know them, they grew taller and taller without adding any girth until they eventually fell over.

Eventually I return 2 hours later and have a meeting with Richard over a cup of tea. We discuss my ideas for the end product of the residency, he seems quite happy with my thoughts.

Going to go to Lockerbie now to pick up Brendan and Méabh.

It is a neat little town; I arrive almost an hour early and decide I need to buy string, big needles and thick needles. It is a god excuse to go into all the shops, I find 2 small rolls of cotton string and a much larger one of sisial twine from a well-stocked ironmongers. There is a fantastic drapers shop selling clothing and Scottish souvenirs

Creaking trees

I set off walking again, it is a windy blustery day.  

The trees are planted in long straight rows, walking into the woods the trees have the feeling of a church or cathedral. It is very dark and almost silent, there is a surprising lack of bird song. The silence is occasionally broken by snatches of birdsong. 

Walking along the forestry pathways I am struck by the creaking of the trees, they do not all creak. I have to climb up into the woods to record it. I wonder if holding the recorder up against the tree will make the recording more intense. 

Richard comes back from one of the possible venues for the Film Festival with two old albums, full of sequential photos of the knitting process. The albums have been left under a leaking window, the images have been water-damaged. It almost seems to be a mirror of the process of change the landscape is going through.

Fishing without worms

I wake and set off early, I feel I just want to absorb the place. I walk the same circuit I walked with Richard and Bridie, but I take camera, video camera, audio recorder and notebook. I realise that filming and recording is a version of fishing. While the camera and recorder are doing their bit, there is nothing that can be done but contemplation, and no need for worms!

I feel as if I could get lost in the woods at one point I take a wrong turn and find the path does not look the same when you are by yourself. I make it out of the woods and find I have lost the map. I go back, luckily I find it within a few minutes walk.