A Body of Work

Artwork / September 14, 2023

After completion of the felted flock I dove into making a steady stream of unassuming charcoal drawings. I felt captivated by the simplicity and obsessed with keeping the realism while not fussing about detail.

So many things in these pieces made sense at the time of making them. the subtlety of ewes as they cross the prairie that is matched by some strokes of charcoal on a muted background. The easy nature of sheep and dogs matched by the ease of spreading charcoal on a page. That charcoal can be so messy and still have flow matching how a flock move can be messy and yet have flow. The flow of our days when we drop complications and let nature, or the art medium, work for us. Individuals moving as one whole because each individual is whole matching a desire to create a body of work stemming from that position of feeling whole. That it can be enough to have a few sticks of charcoal and some paper at hand, nothing more complicated than that. How the deep blacks of charcoal can take over when they go unchecked; the risk of going too far with simplifying, or complicating, one’s life. How messy things can become before they sort themselves out. A continual assessment of when enough is enough.

At the core of this pull to work with such a basic, natural medium is a similar aim for day to day life. To pull out the realism I want to have in my life, to zero in on the dream and apply the layers needed. To do the very challenging work of letting go of details and unnecessary complications. To reach for a primary existence while not letting the flat blacks of nothingness take over.

A couple days ago I went through the storage box where the majority of my drawings land when they are finished. Sheep drawings, dog portraits, magpie drawings… I love the collection that is there. The surprise realization of a body of work is immeasurable. It’s very much like the surprise realization I get when I look over the body of work that is this flock of sheep and its accompanying working dogs.

 

Pastoral Tasks

Musing, Sheep / July 30, 2023

Moving the flock is one of those tasks that has me feeling slightly annoyed knowing I have to do it but as soon as the Kelpies and I are underway, feeling glad that I get too. There is a feeling of assurance and rightness in doing one of the oldest pastoral tasks there is. The smooth flock moves are golden of course. Yet even the rough flock moves where things go awry leave their pastoral stamp upon the soul.

Last night’s plan was to night pen the ewes and release them to a new pasture in the morning. It wasn’t a long move but what I didn’t take into account was how frisky the ewes were feeling on account of cooler weather after several days of intense heat. I let my assumption of an easy move with a flock I know blind me to the real mood of the ewes. The move was soured when we lost our sheep. My frustration got the better of me and I wrongfully chastised the stock dog who was helping me. He had no clue what his misstep had been – he hadn’t made one at that point.

In the grand scheme of things a move gone awry is trivial. We always get the flock where needed and we all still show up for work the next day. In hindsight, the injury lies in knowing that I let wee frustrations interfere with the pastoral nature of the task in front of me. Letting haste and frustration steal those moments feels like wasting a vital and precious piece of my own nature. Wasting those moments feels like disregard for the very thing I am searching for in raising sheep in this manner.

wool sheep with cowbirds

Sheep, Grasshoppers and Birds

Prairie / July 17, 2023

Our wee Spring moisture did not last nor did any rains follow it. The summer landscape is a blend of dying yellow grasses mixed with the darker greens of the clover, vetch and alfalfa. I saw the first grasshoppers back in early June. That hatch is now adults. When the kelpies and I walk the prairie waves of grasshoppers lift and leap around us. The click of their wings and the purr of their collective movement is a notable noise as we travel. The wee garden I managed to sow this year has already been significantly damaged by grasshoppers.

My latest fascination when visiting the ewes on pasture is the numerous small birds that have joined the flock and ride on the back of the sheep. The small birds are here in strong numbers again this year, perhaps on account of the incredible grasshopper population.

cowbirds riding along the backs of sheep

When I arrive in the vicinity of the flock numerous birds fly up from the grass where they were feeding right among the ewes. Several will fly off into the distance with the swooping grace only a collection of birds can pull off, while several individuals will land on the back of nearby ewes. I have my camera at hand and ready and still it is hard to capture these feathered characters. While I am sure the ewes are aware of the birds on their back they do not show any sign of being bothered by them. Occasionally a cagey bird will land on a ewes head and then the ewe will toss her head in annoyance.

The dry land, the hoppers, the birds, they are an elementary sequence of events playing out among a myriad of natural occurrences we are far less aware of. I strive to be in cohesion with Mother Nature and yet when I pause to watch the birds and the sheep, and when a crowd of grasshoppers swarms the hood of the side by side with every trip back and forth, I can’t help but wonder if we have it all backwards. Humans tend to think we control the nature around us but I am less and less sure of that with the more time I spend on this interminable prairie land.

cowbirds landing on sheep