Exploration - Gardens

My studio sits in the garden, I will sometimes get up from whatever I am engaged in; writing, drawing, carving a woodcut and wander out, attending randomly to a plant or simply looking. I spend a lot of time gazing in the garden, there is so much to take in. In the spring, particularly I go from the detail, the tender corolla of the wild carrot, to the overall sensation of buds and leaf, the scent, the colour, the exuberant growth. Everyday new discoveries; the echinacea unfolding its red hued leaves from the ground, plaintain stretching its stems long, a cylindrical spike of flowers, a breeze gently rocking them side to side. The new leaves of comfrey stretch up like fingers from the earth and have white hairs that are soft like fine fur. Textured and strong it smells of earth and wet rock. Yesterday, whilst preparing a bed, I dug up a comfrey root as carefully as I could, keeping the long roots intact. I balanced it on a cup and settled down to draw it. There is something about taking the time to draw that I feel like I can take up space. I enjoy the attendance to the curl of a tendril, to its character and to the overall rhythm. Time opens up and slips past. I get the feel of its medicine, its cohesive power, joining back together what has come apart.