George Orwell maybe found the stunning wild coasts around the Isle of Jura put himin a writing frame of mind. Being near the third largest whirlpool on the world may have put an edge on things. It nearly did for him by all accounts when his boat was caught in its grip.
My tiny studio is in the attic of a small Hebridean cottage. All thick stone walls and cosy stoves on the inside but chilly in ghe wind outside. You can forgive the weather anything for the stunning scenery. Skies that seem to go up and across for ever, three seasons in a day climate and seas conjureing a kaleidoscope of shapes and colours.
Mostly land and seascapes. Generally figurative but occasionally abstract. So many inspirational scenes, everyday something new.
Such scenery is not easily won. Shops are a 36 mile round trip crossing two islands and the Atlantic, twice! Heat only comes via a ravenous stove with trips out to sacks of fuel a ross the track behind a windy shed. If I miss the coal lorry every other week it would be a chilly mistake. The driver has got used to me chasing him early on a freezy morning whilst still on my dressing gown! And if you want anything larger than a kitchen stool delivered to the island long negotiations involving couriers and ferry must be opened.
I still remember a sofa delivered to the quay, left on the slip, the other side. The grey clouds let their wet load go. It was only by chance that a fishermen had his pick-up and trailer handy that the day was saved!
So far, all the challenges have been worth it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.