New Year almost

Guess this’ll be my final painting for 2010.

It’s about water and light but I suspect, too, that its existence has something to do with my visit to The British Tate and Turner’s exhibition there. Probably. A bit.

Snow’s here

Hope it doesn’t last though, gotta get over those mountains and snow chains are dangerous.

This is a new painting inspired by a visit to the Tate a few weeks back. Turner struggled with his paintings and so I thought I’d do the same. This one was a fight

Not much different form what’s going on outside. Minus 3 and the stuff is settling ominously.

Yet another

I shall have to give this painting lark a rest.

There's not much room left in the house, but

I suppose paintings in the hall are better than

prams. selling more could be a solution

New paintings

This one's about the cave of the Sibilla in the mountains just above my studio in Le Marche. Chock full of magic it is up there and what's more you can find meteorites the size of golf balls lying around.

I wonder why that is? Magnetism perhaps. Hmm

Bewitched I am

Bessie comes up and nuzzles me for her walk just before sunset.

She gets cross when I start to take photos..and barks her head off.

She always gets her way but I manage to sneak a few shots in.

Cold Autumn

This week has been hot but last night the first snow of the winter.

Edges are blurred and sunlight filters through in patches. I'm reading 'Albion' by  Peter Ackroyd. Must get to the Tate when I'm next in London...gotta see the Turners again.

New Painting

I struggled with this one a bit but gradually came to like it. I've been reading a book about Turner and I think he has bent my mind somewhat (in the nicest possible way)

Nevada

After a couple of months really boring myself with repetitive stuff, this painting popped out yesterday and blew me out of a rut. Thank you painting. It is a memory I guess about ranging over a Nevada desert with Jack, with patches of light everywhere but having no way to place them in time and space. Searing heat in the daytime and minus 20 at night. I miss all that stuff, goddamit I do.

Temperature

Drops from 35C to 23C.. and which do I prefer having cool English blood?

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Sibillini Nights

I bought the T shirt, I did! I never do that, ever.

But this was my friend Giorgio's organised weekend of Sibillini Nights.

Now the Sibillia (as you all know children) is the seer, the Sybil, the Goddess, prophetess who abides in these parts.

So, we attended the film 'Il Cecco' on Saturday night. He being the medieval intellectual and free thinker who was declared an heretic and executed by the Church. Then this was followed by a very late ending dinner half way up mount Sibillini.

Then up at the crack of dawn Sunday morning for the great trek up to the Sibilla's cave. It was hot, some 30C climbing up but the wind switched to the NE as we began out descent and dropped to 21C.

Being understandably knackered, we zoomed back home for a snooze then zoomed back to look at the colours of Casteluccio (these pics)

and delightful they were too. then back for a meal in Monte Monaco, then a gorgeous short film by Giorgio; his look at Il Cecco's life in poetry and image. Then music in the park where I sank a Beck's and then got drowsy. So we slunk away about 11.30. Still knackered I am ...and thank God it's rained for twenty minutes today. Delicious!

These are the things we do in Le Marche at this time of year!

The Montefiore Workshop ‘Falling in love with ourselves’

Everything has a beginning, a middle and an end, except of course if you are a butterfly or a salamander.

I must tell you from the outset that the middle bit, the workshop itself, was fantastic…and I’ll come back to that later, just to keep you in suspense.

The beginning

A disaster on wheels

This was the plan. To pick up the English girls (or should I say our UK workshop lady participants) from Falconara Airport. Now, I must tell you that just writing those two words sends waves of hatred through my entire nervous system because whenever I approach it, it is waiting for me with a pre-planned disaster in store.

And this day was no exception. OK, I was late; the whole day so far had stacked up against me. But the plane was late too and I had to get the girls to Falconara station within twenty mins or never…ever. So I packed their luggage into my van, stacked them in a taxi with instructions to the driver to go go to the station with me racing behind. Except that I wasn’t… Any way, this is dragging on. So to cut it short, this is what happened. I lost my parking ticket and couldn’t get out of hated airport. Lost the girls, they weren’t where I thought I’d sent them (they were fiddled by taxi driver and taken to Ancona station) Found them there.

Had five mins to get them tickets so Mags parked my car (what? at Ancona station? That’s madness!) Got to ticket booth, didn't have enough cash but ticket man said go go. pay me later (phew! an angel)…Rushed to see girls on right train (they were all as cool as cucumbers), zoomed on to Autostrada to get to meet them at Pedaso station, only to find myself at pay booth at Pedaso at a new automated exit. Cash only! Robot tells me I’m short of 25 cents. I say look robot, I’ve had a rough morning. He booms out’ Don’t leave the car, Don’t leave the car’ in a high metallic voice. Oh, now why would I leave the car for heavens sake? Voice says put in credit card. I do but robot refuses it. I bash help button and a human comes on speaker; tells me to put cash in box, I say I have but I’m 25 c short. Meanwhile 20 cars hooting up behind me as the robot spews out a fine to be paid he booms within 15 days. I zoom off.

Now wasn’t that great?

Now for the end bit

No no, this is expecting too much of your patience. Enough to say that my 0830 am departure from Montefiore ended up being midday and it involved TrenItalia timetables and a lady in the bar opposite the station who only had 2 tickets left for 5 people. (and of course you get fined 50 euros if you’re on board without a ticket) Don’t ask, don’t ask!

BUT…The middle bit: the workshop (which it was worth suffering either end for)

Loved it, every bit of it. The place, the hospitality, the food, the sea, the dancing, the laughter and most importantly, the passion and heart that folks put in to the workshop programme. We were each of us profoundly touched by being and working together and the experience still resonates.

Here are some photographs

I think this was a triple Tango

 

 

Lunch time

 

 

Dinner time

 

 

A poetic moment

 

 

I Cigni, Montefiore

Next workshop Oct 14 weekend at Montefiore

The Montefiore Workshop ‘Falling in love with ourselves’

Everything has a beginning, a middle and an end, except of course if you are a butterfly or a salamander.

I must tell you from the outset that the middle bit, the workshop itself, was fantastic…and I’ll come back to that later, just to keep you in suspense.

The beginning

A disaster on wheels

This was the plan. To pick up the English girls (or should I say our UK workshop lady participants) from Falconara Airport. Now, I must tell you that just writing those two words sends waves of hatred through my entire nervous system because whenever I approach it, it is waiting for me with a pre-planned disaster in store.

And this day was no exception. OK, I was late; the whole day so far had stacked up against me. But the plane was late too and I had to get the girls to Falconara station within twenty mins or never…ever. So I packed their luggage into my van, stacked them in a taxi with instructions to the driver to go go to the station with me racing behind. Except that I wasn’t… Any way, this is dragging on. So to cut it short, this is what happened. I lost my parking ticket and couldn’t get out of hated airport. Lost the girls, they weren’t where I thought I’d sent them (they were fiddled by taxi driver and taken to Ancona station) Found them there.

Had five mins to get them tickets so Mags parked my car (what? at Ancona station? That’s madness!) Got to ticket booth, didn't have enough cash but ticket man said go go. pay me later (phew! an angel)…Rushed to see girls on right train (they were all as cool as cucumbers), zoomed on to Autostrada to get to meet them at Pedaso station, only to find myself at pay booth at Pedaso at a new automated exit. Cash only! Robot tells me I’m short of 25 cents. I say look robot, I’ve had a rough morning. He booms out’ Don’t leave the car, Don’t leave the car’ in a high metallic voice. Oh, now why would I leave the car for heavens sake? Voice says put in credit card. I do but robot refuses it. I bash help button and a human comes on speaker; tells me to put cash in box, I say I have but I’m 25 c short. Meanwhile 20 cars hooting up behind me as the robot spews out a fine to be paid he booms within 15 days. I zoom off.

Now wasn’t that great?

Now for the end bit

No no, this is expecting too much of your patience. Enough to say that my 0830 am departure from Montefiore ended up being midday and it involved TrenItalia timetables and a lady in the bar opposite the station who only had 2 tickets left for 5 people. (and of course you get fined 50 euros if you’re on board without a ticket) Don’t ask, don’t ask!

BUT…The middle bit: the workshop (which it was worth suffering either end for)

Loved it, every bit of it. The place, the hospitality, the food, the sea, the dancing, the laughter and most importantly, the passion and heart that folks put in to the workshop programme. We were each of us profoundly touched by being and working together and the experience still resonates.

Here are some photographs

I think this was a triple Tango

 

 

Lunch time

 

 

Dinner time

 

 

A poetic moment

 

 

I Cigni, Montefiore

Next workshop Oct 14 weekend at Montefiore

Sweet memories

My photographs are not just photographs.

Now that’s an amazing statement Mice!

Yes, and somewhat simplistic, I know, I know.

Let me put it this way. They are a sort of external hard disc of my mind and I can shut my eyes and summon up every painting and photograph that I have ever created.

And what is more…

Yes Yes Yes ?

If I had never created them, my life would not be as it is now.

Whoa!. Heavy stuff!

Not really no. You see, what we create, what we create beyond ourselves, enriches us.

Let me give an example.

I was at the Printer’s this morning in Tolentino printing this image, testing again the limit of Mauro’s patience (he my print expert on RAW and Nikon imaging programme) And I asked him about a course he’d just finished on master printing. Cheekily I asked him if they ever, in these classes, talked about the experience, the actuality, of taking photographs. He span around at me in his swivel chair and said ‘Look, the first thing we are always told in these classes, is that the image you take is what is of supreme importance. It starts here. And to never attempt to work on an image that isn’t good, your best’

Nice that!

So this image above, for me, is about that instance of recognition, where you feel yourself part of what you are photographing. Where duality dissolves ;where you absorb the trees as they themselves absorb the first moister from their roots as winter releases then tenderly from its grip.

And now that creation is part of me; the trees, the dampness, the mist, the sky.

And that’s what is so marvelous about the medium.

Applaud trees and skies

 

Mice likes this Tuncay lady

Can’t wait to meet her. Picked up my small prints today.

And they’re rather tasty

 

Sex, lies and name dropping

This is a picture of an Oak tree which lives at the bottom of my garden.

It was taken with my telefonino (i.e. mobile) so it was a bit hit and miss.

What would Ansel have said, I wonder? Ansel? Oh, yes, I'm referring to Ansel Adams.

You’ve met Ansel Adams?

Yeah, yeah, a few times, he was a friend of my mate George who looked after me in California where I lived for a while.

OOH!

Yes, I mention him not because I’m name dropping but because of the story he told us about his famous

‘Moon over Sierra Nevada’ photograph, taken when he and Edward Weston and the whole West Coast States bunch were

rolling down to Arizona in a drunken haze. Fact was, he just took a deep breath in the dark and took a divine guess at the exposure.

Was as surprised as a moonbeam that it came out, let alone that it was to become an icon and milestone in the history of photography.

Divine guess, I like that, well done Mice.

Lovely guy, no pretentions, very kind and gentle.

Like Tony Snowdon.

What you’ve met him too?

Yeah, did all the backdrop design for him on a Isse Mayake shoot in London

Lovely guy, thoughtful, kind and patient.

Like Cartier Bresson and Buckminster Fuller.

Huh? WWahwa?

And in November, I met (after not having seen him for years), Oliviera Toscani, an old friend from those hippy days.

But hey! This is beginning to sound like name dropping and that just isn’t my style at all.

All I really want to say is that photographers are really nice, humble people.

Like me and Steve.

Oh, and modest too.

Steve's a bit of a name dropper though, between you and me!

Michael 15th May, 2010

Creativity workshop in Appignano

Though I’d thought of everything; catering, leaders, materials, wine, biscuits. But a volcano! a volcano! Would you ever have imagined it?

It meant we lost five wondrous people from UK whose flight was cancelled at the last moment. It made for a sad start but we held a wine and biscuit ritual to mourn their absence and we soon recovered. A near thing though. So there we were, a bunch of 13 of us.

The general theme was ‘This moment of NOW’ where we learned that being present in the NOW is a gateway to creativity and life adventuring; where creativity awaits us and where the voyage towards its very heart begins

The above image is from the story writing part of the weekend, although you would never guess it would you? 

And this part is called ’Painting attack’

So this was a voyage into the NOW, the present.

And now you are itching to know what our next workshop is about, aren’t you? Well, it’s a journey into past, present and future; how the one fuses with the other to form what we are, how we pattern our lives.

Maria collects treasures from the past; Italian customs, culture, cuisine and saves them in her Magic Box to share with you. Mice takes you into the NOW of creativity on a wondrous voyage of self discovery and Ant into the Future where you design a Planet worth living in for yourself and your love ones.

It’s June 11 to 14 in the beautiful agritourism of I Cigni in Le Marche, Italy, on the edge of the sparkling Adriatic Sea.

Info on our site www.starstone.me or call Mice on +39 3535358 if you want to chat about the workshop in English or Italian. Or you can email him on micermice@gmail.com

The Meteorite

OK, what’s this?

A truffle!

No!

Look, you’re not gonna guess, so I’ll tell you. It’s a meteorite, found on the mountain this Sunday when we trekked up Mt Amandola with our CAI group (Club Alpini Italia) and were rewarded with a the most spectacular views across the hilltop towns of Le Marche to the sea, as well as a meteorite. Isn’t that marvellous though? To find a meteorite? We climbed to about 2000m,

 

 

 

 

……….ate a banana and a packet of crisps (classic) and rested awhile on one of the peaks before climbing down slowly to the trattoria where we’d left our cars. Then a long and dozy lunch. And the day before I was at the sea spending the morning costing our June workshop with Patrizia the owner of I Cigni, . It was almost tropical in comparison.

 

 

This part of Le Marche is where the mountains pushed towards the sea millions of years ago. In fact a great part of the sea was itself thrust up trapping a species of red shrimp in what is now a glacial lake (Lago di Pilato) in the process. Red shrimps and meteorites.

So, lucky we are, to have the mountains and the sea within a short driving distance of each other.

So, here’s an idea. Spend a fantastic weekend on our workshop and spend the rest of the week touring this beautiful area; even go meteorite hunting up in the Sibillini mountains. You’ll find one, you will, with a bit of guidance.

AN INTERVIEW WITH MICHELLE RUMNEY AND MICE

http://www.roomontheedge.com/2010/03/interview-with-michael-eldridge-artist-photographer-creativity-coach/

flyer

 

The StarStone myth

Why a star?

Why a stone?

Well. it happened like this..

I was organising a creativity workshop with my beloved TigerEagles in Chamonix, France.

I needed to prepare a visualisation for the feathery, furry creatures and for inspiration took myself down to the river

below the Chalet where we were staying.

And there they were, waiting like huge eggs in a Eagle’s nest; washed down from Mont Blanc over the millennia

and seemingly just waiting for my arrival (or so he would like to think, I hear you whisper).

That night before the workshop was full of glistening stars; and there it was, or there they were.

I painted seven stars in memory of the voyage of Isis and the group did the same (after many a trick and game)

And mine is sitting before me now as I write.

Wanna see it?

Like a star of your own? wanna know how to get one?

Maybe we’ll let you in on the secret place where you can find your own.

It’s a pilgrimage though.