Exploring my artistic vision

The Power of Place: my art Inspired by relocation

The rain has brought relief to the dairy farmer and the artist equally

The Artistic Journey of Mark Harris

It's the season of melancholy which is seeping into my consciousness when stepping outside my front door, catching the first sweet scent of burning wood carried in the cooler, moist air. The burnt caramel hills that surround the village are now vivid green, and the leaves are bronzing while the last chatters of the swallows are on the wind. I must confess I rather enjoy this feeling, nostalgic and comforting; a quiet descends on the village, the power tools are back in the sheds, the hills and footpaths are empty as the seasonal visitors retreat in their cars.

Grazing cows in the summer baked hills just a few weeks ago. The local farmer having to feed hay in the fields to substitute the scorched grass

where and what next?

In recent months, my inner voice seems to have rather won the battle of doubt and confidence. I constantly compare myself with other artists and the opinions of the "art world." What's the point if it's all been done before? So, with that in mind, it's time to go back to the beginning. Up the steep hill out of the village, with my trusty rucksack and hound by my side, I forge my way to the vast open sky and mind-blowing views that await me. Maybe this time, Mother Nature will not overwhelm me to the point that I can't even start, let alone finish, a painting. Can I decode the beauty and simplify the lines and forms so they make sense without losing the sense of the moment?

Creative space reflecting artistic transformation and growth

learning all over

Being in a new place really does heighten the senses. Woodland and heathland have been swapped with rolling hills and combes, Forestry Commission land exchanged for farmland, dairy herds hemmed in by hedgerow and stone. My paintings have been large in the past, but now with no space to work at the moment, I am challenged with the biggest views and vastest skies on the smallest of canvases. The challenge, however, has been more rewarding and inspiring than I thought it would be. I know from the great masters of this game that if you are to do impressionistic landscapes, you're going to have to simplify, but if you go too far, you'll be in the Patrick Heron territory, which is a whole new ball game! I want to abstract but wish my work to provoke the nostalgia of childhood memory or deep-seated feelings of the reassuring hug of the British countryside.