So much has happened in the last few weeks. 

So much, that at times I felt completely overwhelmed and felt that I had taken on too much. Amongst other things I was coping with.....

• Redecorating at home; paint colours to choose. Thousands of match pots and bits of painted coloured paper around the house.
• a solo show  to be hung in a beautiful community cafe in Hextable.
• a health issue that has taken some time to come to terms with.

To distract myself from all of the above I booked a November trip to Madeira for a walking week in a group of 'like minded' individuals. Walking is the activity that calms me above all others.

Little did I know that the group would be just me and two other people; another group of friends having cancelled at the last minute due to a leg injury.
Little did I also know that one of the other two was afraid of heights and edges, and the other had a fear of walking down hill. 

So we muddled through, on levadas (ancient water irrigation channels), cliff tops and mountain paths, each hike being a challenge for one or other of my two companions, until the poor local guide almost lost the will to live trying to keep everyone happy.

I was just grateful to be walking, in shorts and t-shirt, and away from the worries of domesticity. I changed my walking pace from pretty speedy to VERY SLOW, and all was well. I also ate a lot of cakes. Pastel de nata and Queijada da Madeira to be precise. Delicious.

Unfortunately, while I was away a disaster was unfolding back at home in Camber Sands.

A disaster that beats all other environmental disaters on the local coast hands down; the release of millions of plastic biobeads into the sea from Southerm Water's Eastbourne Wastewater Treatment Works.

A big enough problem to reach the national news. A beautiful sandy beach covered with millions of black plastic beads. An environmental disaster on a grand scale. 

I felt distressed not to be able to turn up with the other many local people to help try and clear the beach of the beads. I have done beach surveys counting these biobeads in the past with Strandliners, and know how devastated their leaders will be. 

I followed the news each day, only to learn that Southern Water had been found culpable. I wanted to be there. 

I finally made it to the beach on Sunday; nearly two weeks after the spill. Many sacksful of pellets had already been removed from the beach by volunteers. 

Staff from Southern Water were sieving the sand in a slow and laborious way. It was a depressing sight. 

I made a video of the process for Instagram. 

The video shows the sieving of sand, and the collection of biobeads so much better than any still photo can. But because I know not everyone can access the video, here are some photos anyway.

The early clean up operation undertaken by Strandliners and  @nurdlecoasts is now on hold until the next spring tide. This is a particularly high tide around the time of a full moon, which will carry the beads further up onto the beach, and hopefully allow another collection of washed up beads using a microplastic vacuum which can only work on soft sand.

The whole event makes me very sad. 

A feeling of 'solastagia'.

Solastalgia is the distress caused by negative environmental changes to a person's home environment. It is being felt by so many local people.

I created the book 'Shore' last year about man's behaviour in relation to the sea shore. A book created in frustration at the way we treat our beautiful coastline.
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On one of the pages I wrote;

It shouldn't have happened. 

There are no words.

Here I am again. Artist in residence on Vashon Island, near Seattle.

Back after 2 years for another dose of sea, sun, artistic freedom and uninterrupted time to make and think. Time to get bored enough to have new ideas, and time enough to experiment without anyone but myself to criticise my efforts.

Last time I was here we were 4 mature adults. I had a wonderful time, and many happy memories. This time I had some reservations about trying to repeat the experience.

Part of me felt I should be going somewhere more adventurous, seeing new places. The other part of me was happy to combine the trip with a visit to my family in Vancouver, a mere train ride away. To return to a place that I knew to be comfortable, calm and on the water.

​What could possibly go wrong?

I arrived to meet my fellow artists and writers during a heatwave. They were all very young. In their twenties and thirties. I felt old amongst them. A very different feeling to previously. I am not hunting for a partner, thinking about my career, or struggling to make ends meet. I speak differently and we often misunderstood each other. This felt strange, given that we were speaking the same language. 

I came with the intention to work on learning the art of Japanese wood cut printing
( Mokuhanga). I carried chisels and wood carving knives in my hold luggage, and wondered if it would get safely through customs. I had ordered paper and wood to be delivered to the residency so that I could get started as soon as I arrived. 

The paper for my alternative activities such as making cyanotypes and a hand made book. didn't arrive. It was delayed. Days went by,  and each day I hoped it would turn up, which it eventually did just 5 days before I was due to fly home. Too late for anything worthwhile to be done.

So how did I cope? At first everything felt wrong. I considered flying home..... but knew that that was ridiculous. I was in a lovely place and needed to get to know my fellow artists. It takes time to get to know strangers; a poet, a novelist and a visual artist. We had lots of lovely conversations about books. The writers wrote or read all day long, sitting outside on the deck beside stacks of books and their laptops.

Some were very untidy in the kitchen, leaving pots and pans for days. I decided to ignore all of this, and started a little list of things that I couldn't or didn't feel it would be helpful to say aloud. After all, we were going to be together for three and a half weeks. 

The list includes 

• why do you say F**** so often?
• why don't you do your F****ing washing up?

I felt better for writing it down.
The swearing declined and the washing up improved with time. 

We got to know each other better as the days progressed, and true bonding occurred over the four player 'mid -west' card game called Euchre. It has to be said that my skills in this game are completely lacking, and I was definitely the weakest link as partners went. Remembering cards is not my strong point. But we laughed, played, changed partners and laughed some more. The effect on our little group was astonishing. I felt much more at ease as the days progressed.

While the writers were reading and writing, I meanwhile, needed to get into the forest, and went for regular walks to relax and take photos.
​I worked with a mirror, and continued my project of rephotographing landscapes that I had started in Santa Fe. The forest was dry after weeks without rain. I started to crave some wide landscapes or trees dripping with rain and lichens.

I swam in Puget Sound every day, surrounded by moon jelly jellyfish, kayaked and paddle boarded. I tried to capture the moonjellies with my camera, with great difficulty as they were on the move all the time, as was the kayak. I settled for drifting over them as they swam like stars in a deep night sky. 

But mostly I was learning how to carve and print very simple designs whilst learning the key principles of wood cut printing. I enjoyed the process, and made a lot of very unremarkable prints. I have a lot to learn about layers, colour combinations and  print design. 

 After two weeks had passed I knew that I needed to escape for a couple of days. Like one of my fellow residents I was getting 'cabin fever'. Mount Rainier, the glacier topped volcano was within reach, and was calling loudly to me. I couldn't come all this way and not pay it a visit.

So on my last weekend I made a journey by ferry off the island, and drove south to Mt Rainier National Park. All alone, I felt like an escapee on a mini road trip. As I drove through the gates of the National Park I felt like I was coming home to where I belong. In the mountains, surrounded by unspoilt land, trees and rivers with the familiar brown buildings of national park inn, admin buildings and visitor centre.

I didn't mind that the views were hidden by the cloud. It was just great to be there.
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I hiked on the Wonderland trail beside the Nisqually river. 

I walked alone despite warnings to only hike in groups. I was not heading out into the wilderness so I ignored the signs. I had a torch and a small first aid kit, and plenty of spare clothes. That's at least half of an essential kit for going into the wild....

​I paid attention to the lush details of this rain drenched forest. I was more than happy just walking and looking at the old trees and lichens.
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I spent the night just outside the park and wondered if I would be any luckier with the weather the next morning. I only had one more shot at seeing the mountain, and I knew that there were no guarantees.

Next morning I woke really early and checked the Paradise webcam at the top of the mountain road. It appeared to show clear skies in the pre-dawn darkness. I dived out of bed, packed, had a cup of tea and drove the 30 minutes up the mountain road to Paradise. And there it was!

Mount Rainier in glorious early morning sunshine. I was elated.

​Feeling extraordinarily lucky.

I set off at 7.00am for the Skyline trail hike. A four hour circuit around the foot of the mountain. I had not had breakfast due to my early departure, so I survived on a large bag of trail mix, my water and an apple. It was exhilarating and varied, through meadows, rock, bogs and streams, with spectacular views in all directions. I saw marmots and pika, birds of prey and wild goat. No bears made an appearance, but there were plenty of other hikers to chat to along the way.

When I completed the hike I had fully decided that hiking was more important to me right now than making art. 
And so that is what I aim to do for the foreseeable future; explore new places and go hiking.

With a bit of art thrown in for good measure.

And what of my fellow artists?

I have come to know them and appreciate them for their very individual qualities. I have learnt important things and much trivia about modern life by listening to them talking. I have learnt what 'colour' I read, from the 'Read your Color' website, and which movie character I am most like from the 'Which Character Personality Quiz'. 

So you see, I have been educated and challenged. Taken out of my comfort zone, and made to think about my choices in life. All of which are good things.

​And when I got back from my two days away the draining board was just as I left it...........and I was not in the least surprised.