New Life breathed into Old Ireland in Galway

While out and about sketching a few weeks ago, I was asked to paint a thatched cottage in my local village by its new owner. I was delighted, as I’ve watched the restoration take place since last winter, and I’d even done a quick sketch while my kids were doing sport nearby once. That sketch didn’t get very far. This time, I’d have carte blanche to indulge myself as much as I liked, and as much time as I needed. That red. Those chimneys. Everything. I couldn’t wait to start.

Eventually the decks were cleared and off I went to do the job. It was really hot, unseasonably so, and I thought conditions would be perfect. But the sun blazed right in my eyes and I’d forgotten my cap. I tried to balance my spare sketchbook on my head, and tie it on with the bag from my stool, but even though I’ve more or less given up on the dignity front, it was too much to sit in my very own village looking like a lunatic. Besides, it kept falling off, my head not being flat on top. I kept trying to get the drawing right, and it kept being wrong. I was easily distracted, as I always am when the drawing isn’t working, and painted this little shield bug, which wanted to climb to the top of my shoulder, and was probably most unimpressed at being thwarted in its progress and parked on my forearm a few times to be drawn.

Why couldn’t I throw the lines of the cottage down as easily as I drew the shield bug? Pressure, I guess – one had a client waiting for it, the other didn’t. I tried twice more to get the lines of the cottage right, and twice more they were totally wrong. Then I remembered a technique that I read in Felix Scheinberger’s book Urban Watercolor Sketching, where you tell yourself the sketch isn’t the “real” thing but only for fun. Just like the shield bug. Lo and behold – the new drawing went swimmingly. I went back the next day to paint the drawing, in my baseball cap, and had a wonderful time. I might point out that thatched roofs can be very hard to do because if you draw all those cut ends of reeds, it’s going to look overworked and heavy. So once again I took inspiration from Felix’s book, and used a combination of splattering and salt to get a nice texture. Sadly I splattered the sky too but never mind.

Michael, the new owner, has done a spectacular job on the restoration. Everything has been done with the greatest care and attention. The furniture has been picked up from various auctions, windows have been enlarged and it is simply immaculate inside. He’s delighted with his new painting, and I loved doing it. Better again, he’s asked me to paint the fireplace with a roaring fire in it, along with its magnificent stone arch (like everything else in the cottage, salvaged and lovingly rebuilt from the original fireplace) and the beautiful dresser (hutch), full of blue and white china. I really can’t wait, and the fine mugs of tea and plentiful biscuits provided by Michael have nothing to do with it – honest.

More of my work here.