Gill Stewart Art

Gill Stewart Art Artist || Abundant Florist || Stylist || Wreathmaker || Gardener || Forager Abundant Florist || Artist || Stylist || Wreathmaker || Gardener || Forager

It was wet and grey today, so decided to to float flowers…The first flowers in my garden this year 🤍 #
17/01/2025

It was wet and grey today, so decided to to float flowers…

The first flowers in my garden this year 🤍

#

I arose to a pink world this morning.The sunrise infusing everything it so delicately touched…First cup of tea made and ...
16/01/2025

I arose to a pink world this morning.
The sunrise infusing everything it so delicately touched…

First cup of tea made and a wander in the garden as I fed the birds.
So many green shoots appearing.
It won’t be long until terracotta pots dotted all around the garden will be filled with these little faces ‘Honeybee’ they have a scent of honey too. And little faces like the lion King .

Alas, I still have tulips to plant. I am not overly worried because I have had great success before with late planting.
Part of the hold up has been the quandary of the old zinc vintage bath I bought. I bought it for plants, but then couldn’t face drilling holes in it.
I toyed with the idea of using it as mini Winter dipping pool.
I am really not that brave. So it is with great delight I have learned it has a slow leak.
All my problems solved. It can now be a planter without guilt.
I went to our greengrocer/ butcher today and asked for cardboard boxes. They really are the best!
I stashed my boot with enough cardboard to fill a third of the bath, the rest I will fill with compost and plant the tulips , hopefully this weekend.

Snow forecast for next week. Hoping tomorrow will be as pleasant as today to let me get some gardening jobs done .
Then back to writing …

Sunday night…supper always has candles and wine…Loved this quote George just read to me. We read to each other often.“Re...
12/01/2025

Sunday night…supper always has candles and wine…
Loved this quote George just read to me. We read to each other often.

“Remind me of my safari in Africa.
Somebody forgot the corkscrew, and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water.

Jack Frost has disappeared as quickly as as he came. A soft grey blanket has descended.The apple tree is full of birds f...
12/01/2025

Jack Frost has disappeared as quickly as as he came. A soft grey blanket has descended.
The apple tree is full of birds feeding. The fluttering reds and yellows of the Goldfinches punctuate the monochromatic day with vibrant colours and intricate dance.

I look through the garden door and find it hard to believe it will full of life and lushness in the not too distant future.
The bare bones remain at the moment allowing a clear palette to plan some new things .
The tulips last year were all peaches and creams. This year the clowns.
I hope they do as well as last year’s Tulips .
I dream of days and evenings sitting in the garden painting and reading .
Do you know we were able to to sit in the garden at midnight on the 31st December, Hogmanay to welcome 2025.
I rather liked that we welcomed this new year in the garden.
Going through seed packets today deciding what and what not to plant.
I don’t know about you but I always have packets out of date. Probably because I buy too many in my excitement at the thought of a new season.

Have a lovely Sunday whatever you are doing 🤍

This land I live in…Each season tells its own tale, weaves its own story into the whole, like a beautiful tapestry that ...
11/01/2025

This land I live in…

Each season tells its own tale, weaves its own story into the whole, like a beautiful tapestry that at first you cannot see.

There is toil and labour, then the first sprouting of new growth .
Then sweet Summer results in abundance.
Then the fruitfulness of labour.
Seasons well spent.
Then there is Winter…
A time of content. Of rest

All goes to sleep, at least as far as our eye can see .
But in the darkness of the earth and soul new growth is preparing to burst forth .
In the land. In ourselves.

One of the joys of Winter for me is frosty fields and sheep gently grazing , their secrets held within.
Both sheep and man at one as food made ready for Winter from the fields they graze. The shepherd has stored and now feeds.

We too can walk in harmony with this pattern .
Dream your dreams, grow your desires . Make ready for new growth .
And be ready to open your storehouses.

With love ,
Gill 🤍

Waiting to light all the candles when my special friend arrives for an afternoon of tea and cake, some champagne to spar...
10/01/2025

Waiting to light all the candles when my special friend arrives for an afternoon of tea and cake, some champagne to sparkle like the frosty day outside.
An afternoon reading and reviewing my all too vast cookbook collection.
What fun we had !

Fire lit, piles of books, a pear and rosemary tart I made . Earl Grey tea for Steph .
Lots of chat and celebration of true friendship on the most wonderful of winter days when the light feels surreal.
A magic spell cast over this mystical land that we both call home.

Simple beauty frozen….an opportunity to stand still and look at every crystalline petal . The fall of the leaves heading...
09/01/2025

Simple beauty frozen….an opportunity to stand still and look at every crystalline petal . The fall of the leaves heading to death, so there may be life next year .

Take time, notice.
Know too a time of darkness in your life new life will spring.
Most assuredly 🤍🕊️

Morning has broken to a light dusting of snow and magical winter light with the sky the colour of a pale watery moon. Tw...
07/01/2025

Morning has broken to a light dusting of snow and magical winter light with the sky the colour of a pale watery moon.

Twelfth night…
There is something special about Twelfth night. Yesterday there was a deep frost , theatrical skies and mesmerising light.
I had a thought to plant some Tulips, so as Spring approached I would remember the bulbs were planted on Twelfth night night when all lay still with winter bright.

The ground was frozen solid. So I decided to place some bulbs in my huge whisky barrel and top up with soil.
So that’s what I did. Maybe a little shallow. I will add more soul as it settles.

You can see the barrel through the garden door . It always brings immense joy after a long Winter to see the dancing colours of Tulips
Last years Tulips were a soft muted palette. This year I am bringing on the clowns.
The carnival and circus Queen’s …
‘ Flaming Art’ seemed appropriate to order because I hope they may end up on a canvas or two .
‘ Carnival De Nice’ - ‘Carnaval De Rio’
And ‘Estella Rjnveld
All wear flamboyant gowns of red and white stripes and splashes in soft satin sheens.
I shall enjoy watching with anticipation for the green nibs appearing through the soil.

I will plant the rest when there is a thaw.
But from now on this shall be my Twelfth night barrel…

Keep cosy and safe in this snowy weather.
And look upon with the eyes of a child

Gill 🤍❄️🕊️

Across the Moss - Moine Mhor which is an ancient peat bog, but has the look of the Savannah, particularly in golden ligh...
06/01/2025

Across the Moss - Moine Mhor which is an ancient peat bog, but has the look of the Savannah, particularly in golden light .
There are trees sprinkled here and there.
Each with a different character .
These little trees are some of my favourites.
They are not statuesque nor grand, but have their stories to tell.
They belie their strength, having a look of fragility. But the winds howl in from the West straight off the Atlantic tearing across the Moss with such ferocity at times.
But still the little trees stand …

Some days are days to be remembered. This was one. I walked the canal with a special friend and exceptional woman. We wa...
05/01/2025

Some days are days to be remembered.

This was one.
I walked the canal with a special friend and exceptional woman.
We walked, we talked .
I shared things in regard to the book I am writing. Niki was just air to my balloon. I felt a sense of soaring .
I came home. I wrote.

I don’t really know what more I can say. Other than thank you Niki . You are dear to my heart

January 4th…another day of writing at the glorious hour of Evensong. The twilight hour. An hour when wondrous things hap...
04/01/2025

January 4th…another day of writing at the glorious hour of Evensong.
The twilight hour. An hour when wondrous things happen…
The day spent.
The new winter light enjoyed through mist and rain .
The odd sunbeam as a reminder of a new Spring to come.
We smile at one another, me on the solid ground. The sun from a place far off.
A place where we will meet one day.

I think on Winter today. Through the garden door this morning a bleakness, but my red baubles shone brightly against the grey.
A reminder to think on some . I was glad of the reminder.
Better days will come .
For those who have followed me for a while you will know I speak of Winter as a time of permission.
What do I mean by that? I am asking myself really.
Originally I think I thought of it as a time to be, almost to hide from the demands of the world.
I remember last year as Winter was drawing to an end, I had a sense of anxiety. Because Winter had become a place of hiding, of escapism.
This year I am viewing it so differently.
I see it as permission given for a quiet time to grow the things you love m. To bring things into being at a gentle pace.
It may be the most exciting time of the year

The time when people start to take down their Christmas decorations.A time I choose to add.Through the garden door I had...
03/01/2025

The time when people start to take down their Christmas decorations.
A time I choose to add.

Through the garden door I had a few red baubles hanging on the Wisteria.
A nod to Christmas cheer.

In the backyard we have a living Christmas tree which sat outside our gallery to be festooned for Christmas and Winter deep.
On closing , we brought the tree home and put in an old Whisky barrel in the yard.
It is donned with lights and red baubles , which speak to me of life and hope.

Whilst beginning to take some things down until next year , I begin to keep and add to Winter decorations.
Little stories and enhancements that bring light to the Winter days.

Whilst taking the red baubles of the tree, I felt to take them through the garden door door and add to the Wisteria.
The red against cold Northern skies somehow warms the spirit.
The shape of a bauble always entrances.
I have hung each bauble as you might light a candle for a loved one.
These baubles are for my insta friends who are going through a difficult time.
I will see them each morning as I open the garden door to welcome the new day, and think of you.
This time will pass…🔴♥️

A small corner in the cottage. A shady little space beside the fire.At just the right moment in a dark Winters day the f...
02/01/2025

A small corner in the cottage. A shady little space beside the fire.
At just the right moment in a dark Winters day the fleeting light might just smile…

Today has been cold and frosty after relentless rain, so terribly welcome.
The cottage has smelled like the home of my childhood. Soup bubbling on the stove, spicy and warming scents wafting through the cottage . Sauces and gravy made from the last of the ham, and writing…it’s been hard.

I set myself the task to write each day . Usually in the afternoon when the light is fading. I light a candle put on some lipstick strangely enough.
All around me is calm and beautiful as I look to the Glen.
Then I am free to write…I didn’t expect any of what I am experiencing.

Through the garden door last January. Snow expected tomorrow. I dearly hope so after relentless rain and mild temperatur...
31/12/2024

Through the garden door last January. Snow expected tomorrow. I dearly hope so after relentless rain and mild temperatures over the festive season.

My heart soars and longs for the soft flurries transforming the world into a heightened form of beauty.
Each detail depicted in monochromatic excellence.
A good tip when painting if you so happen to find yourself in a creative struggle is to photograph your work , put a monochromatic filter over it and oftentimes it will suggest the next move.

I want to leave you with is thought on the last day of the year. Hogmanay in Scotland.
As humans we jump into the future …plans, plans, plans.
New Year resolutions, wider horizons.
And so it goes on…

Stop!

A verse from Marcel Proust

“The new voyage of discovery consists of not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

I bid you well and a happy fruitful and creative 2025 .
With much much love,
Gill, George & Gypsy…the 3 G’s xx🐾🕊️

A day of writing…curiosly emotional.The day never really got light, but the quality of light was mesmerising and mystica...
30/12/2024

A day of writing…curiosly emotional.

The day never really got light, but the quality of light was mesmerising and mystical.
I walked along the canal alone after a day of writing. The light was fading as dusk drew nigh. As the light was stolen in readiness for the moon to rise the sea glinted ever brighter, like quicksilver impregnated with mossy hillocks floating as if they had a higher life of their own.
The odd call from wildlife as they settled for the night…

I drove home. Candles and fire lit by George.
The beginnings of supper prepared. The odd stolen spoonful of leftovers. How delicious this theft is.

We settle with windows inky black . Candles reflected in the sudden nightfall.
Fire crackling.
I steal myself and choose to read my writings with George so far.
A moment I shan’t forget. To read your own words out loud somehow brings it all to life. A story, a drama indeed of a bygone age; thank God that is so for the women of today. It wasn’t for the women of the fifties, sixties.

I thought I would bring you on my journey, with little snippets here and there…

The beginnings of Autumn1957.
A child was conceived out of wedlock to a young woman, a girl really.
A girl all of 14 years of age. Fifteen years of age when she delivered a child.
A young woman without a Mother or Grandmother.
A male world and a cruel society for a young Mother with an illegitimate child was a social pariah.

A snippet of a life….

Two posts in one day…I couldn’t help it. My darling friend Stephanie sent this to me this evening.Somehow this photogra...
29/12/2024

Two posts in one day…

I couldn’t help it.
My darling friend Stephanie sent this to me this evening.

Somehow this photograph epitomises the writing of Sèona .
A book I am working on .
A story from an abandoned child in the late fifties and the overcoming of pain thereof.
A feisty spirit,born with a mix of raw Scottish and Irish character .
A life never lived, but imagined just the same.
A huge thanks to my dear and wonderful friends Stephanie and Adrian
Thank you for understanding.
❤️

The great and ancient moss. The oldest peat bog in the Uk.A bog that sits amongst ancient land with Neolithic burial sit...
29/12/2024

The great and ancient moss. The oldest peat bog in the Uk.
A bog that sits amongst ancient land with Neolithic burial sites and rock art all around us.
The land breathes the stories. A sense of calm as you breathe in the lessons of time .
I felt to share this poem with you , as we reach the end of a year…

When I moved from one house to another
there were many things I had no room for. What does one do? I rented a storage space. And filled it. Years passed.
Occasionally I went there and looked in, but nothing happened, not a single twinge of heart.
As I grew older the things I cared about grew fewer, but were more important. So one day I undid the lock and called the trash man. He took everything.
I felt like the little donkey when his burden is lifted. Things!
Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful fire! More room in your heart for love,
for the trees! For the birds who own nothing- the reason they can fly.

Mary Oliver - Devotions

Days of thoughts …Music , poetry, writing, philosophy. Rain, endless rain. Goldfinches punctuating the grey in flutter a...
28/12/2024

Days of thoughts …

Music , poetry, writing, philosophy.

Rain, endless rain. Goldfinches punctuating the grey in flutter and forays.
A welcome sight.

The Winter canvas of grey breathes life in the deepest of ways…

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