As I add to my shops I’ll update this post, but you can also access all my online shops via the ‘Shop Wealie’ links section to the right of the website.

Happy browsing!

Wealie x

Etsy

Etsy is for those of you that want to buy an original piece of artwork from the Wealie repetoire.

All items listed on Etsy are the orignal artworks and include: Abstract ink art, abstract paintings, abstract doodle illustrations, mixed media paintings.

All artwork is signed and dated by myself (Wealie).

Be sure to check back every now and then at my Etsy Shop as I will be adding new pieces on a regular basis.

Society6

Autumn Doodle - iPad Skin

Society6 has my art designs, scans of abstract paintings and illustrations and some of my best photography that is available to buy on the following products:

Art prints, framed art prints, stretched canvases, stationery cards, iPhone cases, iPhone & iPod skins, Laptop & iPad skins, Tote bags, Throw cushions, Hoodies and T-shirts.

It’s easy to use, simply browse for the design you like and select the product, submit your order, make a payment and then sit back and wait (hopefully not too long) for your Wealie goodies to arrive.

Make sure you check back with my Society6 Shop every now and then as new designs will be added regularly.

Instacanvas

Passionflower on Instacanvas

If you are a fan of my instagram feed under my Rufuswealie nickname, you might like the services that my Instacanvas store can supply.

Basically the majority of my instagram pics are available to purchase as one of the following products:

Canvases, Framed prints, Prism, iPhone cases and Greeting cards, all of course in the trademark square format of instagram.

I take a few instagram pics at least once a fortnight, so check back regularly at the my instacanvas shop to see what’s new.

Redbubble

Wealie abstract design T-shirt

Like Society6, my Redbubble shop has my art designs, scans of abstract paintings and illustrations and some of my best photography that is available to buy on the following products:

Matted prints, Mounted prints, Calendars, Canvas prints, Framed prints, Photographic prints, Kids clothes, T-shirts & hoodies, iPhone & iPod cases, iPad cases, Stickers, Posters and Cards.

It’s easy to use, simply browse for the design you like and select the product, submit your order, make a payment and then sit back and wait (hopefully not too long) for your Wealie goodies to arrive.

Be sure to check back every now and then at my Redbubble shop as I will be adding new designs and photography regularly.

Wealie x

Inside the Lily - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Firery Lily - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Yellow Drop Blooms - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Macro pale pink and yellow lily - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Red Poppy - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Pink Lilies Emerging - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Hydranga - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Tiny Pinks - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Light red blooms - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Lovely Lily - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Orange Poppies - Copyright R.Weal 2011

First I went shopping in Waitrose only to see these ducks making a commotion outside in the car park.  Not sure where they were keeping their cash or debit cards and they obviously weren’t environmentally conscious as they didn’t have their recyclable bags with them!

Kudos to them for picking one of, if not the nicest supermarket chain available in Salisbury – then again it might just be the proximity to the river that made this their choice.  Though to be fair both Tesco and Sainsburys are right on the river, though the steps up to Sainsburys might be off putting.

Shopping Ducks - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Then this group of shady duck characters turned up on my wall for what seemed like a clandestine planning meeting. Each arrived alone, looking shiftily around to check they weren’t being followed.  For some reason they seemed to ignore me or not be all that good at recognising they were under surveillance from a human.  They also all left individually and in completely different directions.

They stayed up on my wall for a good thirty minutes quacking away to each other, no doubt plotting their Machiavellian revenge on human society.

Ducks on a Wall - Copyright R.Weal 2011

You have to wonder if they’re looking to organise and boycot the local Chinese takeaways next!  Then again I might just need to get out more (grin).

If you hear a menacing quack watch your back!

Wealie x

Heale Gardens Iron Gate - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Here’s the first in my Wealie Nice Places To Visit series of
articles.  The aim of these articles is to give you a feel for
the places I visit in words and images, a bit of the history and the pros and cons of visiting as I see them.  I hope you will be inspired to visit one or two of those places after reading my articles.  Anyway, let’s get on with talking about Heale Gardens.

With the two long weekends of 4 days a piece in April I had lots of opportunities to get out and about during the Easter and May Day weekend. One of the places I chose to go was Heale Gardens.  Heale is a lovely late 16th century private house and gardens situated in the Woodford Valley near Salisbury, Wiltshire.

A Magnolia's Secret - Copyright R.Weal 2011

What people visit Heale for most is its gardens; many generations of the still resident Rasch family have created and developed the gardens we see today.  The house is also famous for having been one of the places where Charles the II took refuge on his flight from the country.  Charles II spent 6 nights at Heale on his way to Shoreham and then onto France in October 1651.

On entering the garden you walk through a beautiful meadow full of gorgeous wild flowers and grasses. The managed orchards are full with beautiful fruit-bearing trees, grown to form lush archways where shade loving blooms can thrive.

Ferns on the River Bank - Copyright R.Weal 2011

To your right the river Avon flows through the bottom of the garden splitting into a number of tributaries to make an amazing riverbank landscape through the woodland garden, with it’s abundance of ferns and Spanish bells.  Beautiful wisterias climb the walls and archways and intricate ironwork decorates the gates that break up the different elements of the gardens.

Heale House Wisteria - Copyright R.Weal 2011

It takes approximately an hour to walk round the gardens at a leisurely pace, but there’s no time limit to how long you may spend in the gardens.  Many people come with a picnic blanket and a good book to absorb the wonderful sense of peace, tranquillity and relaxation that the gardens are bound to inspire in you.

The crumbling stonework and ornate rusting iron gates exude a sense of dignified decay, lending an indefinable air of ‘times gone by’ to the gardens.  It’s not hard to imagine the quintessentially English corseted ladies and proper English gentlemen living a lifestyle most of us would never have been able to experience except through great BBC period dramas!

Stone Pot Detail - Copyright R.Weal 2011

In terms of amenities there’s a lovely coffee shop with indoor and outdoor seating to accommodate the moody British weather.  In the coffee shop you will receive a very warm welcome and reasonably priced and exceptionally well presented home made food that is in my opinion is to die for!  Whether it’s a full lunch, a lite bite or just a cup of tea and a slice of cake (I heartily recommend the warm scones!) there will be something to whet your appetite.

Green and white drops - Copyright R.Weal 2011

As well as food, the coffee shop also has an array of home produce, gifts, gardening items, knick knacks and greeting cards for sale that are fun to browse through and again reasonably priced.  On top of the coffee shop there’s also a small nursery where you can buy some of the beautiful blooms and shrubs you see in the gardens at prices that are great for the size and quality of the plants you buy – some of which are now gracing my own garden.

Buttercups close up - Copyright R.Weal 2011

The house itself is not open to the public and as the family is in residence there are areas of the garden where the public are not allowed to enter to protect the privacy of the Rasch family home.  Unfortunately the gardens are not particularly suitable for wheelchair access or individuals with severe mobility impairment, however you can experience much of the garden’s beauty by just sitting out in the coffee shop garden area, as long as you watch out for the crafty Robin with designs on your cake crumbs!

Iron Gate Close Up - Copyright R.Weal 2011

From February and October the gardens are open to the public between 10 am and 5 pm, Wednesday to Sunday (not Monday or Tuesday, except Bank Holidays).  Entrance is reasonably priced at £4.50 for adults and £2.50 for kids.  All in all Heale Gardens is a lovely place to spend some relaxation time, whether you are walking round the gardens or just popping to the coffee shop for a cream tea and a mosey round the nursery.  It’s well worth a visit if you are in the area and a great place to while away a morning or afternoon.

Below are some of my favourite pictures from my afternoon at Heale and you can see the rest in my flickr photo set Heale Gardens.

Happy visiting!

Wealie x

Cherry Blossom - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Seed Pods - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Thistle Bud - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Fern Dancing - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Lone White Heart - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Wilton House Corner View - Copyright R.Weal 2011

A few weekends back I finally got around to visiting
Wilton House after living just down the road from it for
over 6 years!  Unfortunately the house wasn’t yet open to the public, but there was more than enough to see and photograph on a lovely sunny April day in the extensive gardens.

In this post you’ll see some of my favourite pictures from my walk round the gardens, which include the beautiful flora and the architecture of the house.  To see all the pictures I took please view my Wilton House Gardens April 2011 set on flickr.

Wisteria Leaves - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Wilton House is the home of the Earl and Countess of Pembroke and has been the residency of their family since the grounds and buildings were granted to the family’s ancestor by Henry VIII back in 1544.  The main house is 460 years old with superb architecture and holds a wonderful art collection within.

The Wilton House estate has been used as a location in films such as Sense and Sensibility, The Madness of King George, Mrs Brown, Pride and Prejudice and The Young Victoria.

The Herald - Copyright R.Weal 2011

The house has undergone a great deal of restoration in recent years and the house and grounds are well worth a visit when they are open to the public between April and September.  There’s an adventure playground to keep the children occupied.

If you are interested in visiting or want to know a bit more about the estate see the Wilton House Website.

Below are some more of my favourite shots from the day, enjoy.

Wealie x

Wilton Bell Tower - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Ancient Cedar at Wilton House - Copyright R.Weal 2011

In the bridge - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Imperfect Clock - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Approach to the Bridge - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Softest Pink Blossom - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Bluebells and Daisies - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Delicate Yellow - Copyright R.Weal 2011

I’ve been slowly sorting through and editing all the pictures I took that day – To say I took a lot is putting it mildly, I’ve got macro shots, shots of Lizzie Gardens and The Cathedral and Cathedral Close.  I’ve almost finished all the editing, just got 5 or 6 shots left I want to work on.  However the set I named “Iced Rosemary“ is amongst my favourites and very much a standalone set in it’s own right. They were taken just down the road from where I live using my macro lens on the K7 Pentax DSLR.

The sun was just perfect and the brilliance of the snow and the glow of the reflections in the ice droplets had me totally enthralled for quite sometime.  I’m sure I got a few weird looks as people passed me by on the street, but what price the perfect capture?

I have edited and uploaded the best of the iced rosemary shots to flickr and they can be viewed in the set conveniently named “Iced Rosemary“. However, here are a few of my absolute favourites and a little explanation as to why.

Ice drop - Copyright R.Weal 2010

I was fascinated by the way the iced droplet distorted the reflection in this capture.  I also liked the contrasting textures of the wood, leaves and ice.

Winter reflected - Copyright R.Weal 2010

One of the many droplets that were starting to melt under the winter sun allowing me to capture a perfect reflection of the garden in which the rosemary resides.  It took a few attempts to get a shot in focus with the right amount of light, but it was well worth the effort.

Frozen Drips - Copyright R.Weal 2010

Part of me toyed with the idea of calling this one “reptilian rosemary” due to the pronounced textures of the rosemary sprig through the magnification of the ice.  In the end I decided not to call it that, hoping that people would see the texture and make up their own minds about it.

Ice Drop on Rosemary - Copyright R.Weal 2010

I really liked the overall tone and composition of this shot.  The blurred snow in the background and the detail of the individual ice crystals within the snow in the foreground.  The smoothness of the rosemary sprigs, the roughness of the wood and the frosted glass effect of the ice droplet.  It all added up to a beautiful shot in my eyes.

Wealie x

There are a few places that I make a pilgrimage to regularly, where I have a kinship and need to pay homage.  These places are all clustered around three key areas in the South West of England, the Salisbury Plain in Wiltshire, Purbeck Isle in Dorset and Glastonbury in Somerset.  However as I was writing the article to include all the places in those areas it turned out to be far too long, so I decided to make this a three part article.  Today’s article looks at an area that perhaps has the happiest and most holiday feel to my memories, the Isle of Purbeck.

Purbeck Isle

The Isle of Purbeck is not actually an island, but a 60 mile square area of land on the south west coast in Dorset, England.  There are a number of places here that I find irresistible to visit, Corfe Castle, Studland Beach, Swanage Bay, Wareham Forest and Lulworth Cove. Lulworth Cove I discovered in later life, but Corfe, Studland and Swanage have been mainstays of holidays and family days out since I was a very young child and I have nothing but positive memories connected with these places.

Corfe Castle

Corfe Castle Sketch - Copyright R.Weal 1998

Corfe Castle holds a mystical power over me which I find difficult to explain.  All I can say is that for as long as I can remember I’ve felt at home there, as if a part of me knew it before I ever became conscious of such complex thoughts.  When I have been in dark places it has been a beacon calling out to me, a true north to guide me back to the essence of me when all around me are trying to contain me within fleshy walls of unreality.  Perhaps that sounds overly dramatic, but regardless it is my truth.

Bankes Hotel (Corfe Village) - Copyright R.Weal 1998

Walking amongst the ruins is a true joy to me. I love to touch the stones and let them speak to me, call to a me that isn’t me, to a time in which I can’t possibly belong.  I have walked around it countless times, photographed, videoed, sketched and written about the castle ruins, slept in its shadow at the Bankes Arms hotel, studied it’s history, witnessed an eclipse from within it, dragged numerous friends and family to it and constantly wondered at the magical spell it holds me under, musing as to why it makes me feel so warm, content and safe.

Corfe Castle - Copyright R.Weal 2009

As a child it was the first sign that we were only minutes from Studland beach and I always felt a strange tugging, a longing to go there instead of the beach.  I would find myself turning in my seat as we passed it, watching it until it was finally out of sight.  My Granddad would always recite his silly story about how the castle got its name:

“Do you know how come it’s called Corfe Castle girls?” my Granddad would say, to which my sisters and I would unerringly reply, “No Granddad” amid girlish giggles at the tired and worn joke we knew was coming, but couldn’t help, but love.  ”Well, it’s because the silly idiot that built it forgot to put glass in the windows, so all the people who lived there caught colds and started corfing and corfed it right down”.

Corfe Castle View from Village - Copyright R.Weal 1998

The wry grin that would play across my Granddad’s lips was a warming sight, as was the mischievous glint in his eyes that always accompanied it.  Then one of my sisters or I would pipe up “But there’s not such thing as corfing Granddad!”
“Ah, but there is, it’s how they used to say cough and coughing in old English!”  The laughter that always issued forth from Granddad and his three granddaughters is a precious memory that it always warms me to share and I can’t help but keep up the tradition myself whenever I visit with guests in tow!

To say that Corfe is captivating, inspirational and awe inspiring is like saying water is wet, it’s so obvious to you the moment you see its majestic beauty rising up above all the surrounding landscaping.  A commanding presence, it must have been quite a sight when it was intact.  Corfe Castle is now lovingly cared for by the National Trust and is open all year round to visitors and I thoroughly recommend a visit to my castle.

Studland Beach

Studland beach was the place my Nan taught me to swim, where I became her mermaid diving beneath the waves.  It was where my Dad took me rock pooling and I felt like I was an intrepid naturalist in the vein of my hero Sir David Attenborough.  It was a place that my whole family visited often for weekend beach days, to rest, relax and have fun.

Ben and Dylan at Studland Beach - Copyright R.Weal 2009

I remember setting off with my Mum, Dad and sisters, stopping off at Westbury to have my Nan and Granddad and my Uncle Steve join us and create a three car caravan to Studland.  I remember begging to be allowed to go in the car with my Uncle Steve, because he always drove fast over the long road past Wareham Forest with the big bumps that had your tummy sailing up to your throat!

We would arrive early – the Weal family always made the most out of beach days, up at the crack of dawn and leaving the beach just before the car park closed.  We would arrive just as the gates to the car park were opening and we were always sure to get our obligatory large area marked out with blankets, towels, wind-breakers and assorted inflatables before settling in for some hardcore relaxation and beach time.  Granddad would be sat fully dressed in a deck chair, with his shirt unbuttoned down to his navel and the shirt sleeves and his trousers rolled up.

Nan was always the first to come into the water with us, even though it was probably too cold.  At lunch a great big feast of a picnic was a must and cheese, ham and sand (yuck) rolls were always on the menu along with a carton of orange juice and the obligatory trip to the ice-cream hut with Nan or Uncle Steve.

Sand castles and sand pits were an art form with Uncle Steve and Dad on hand, whether it was being buried alive, or burying someone else alive, creating and elaborate fort, castle or boat, there was always much fun to be had in the sand.  This probably also accounted for the copious amounts of sand in the ham and cheese sandwiches, my swimming costume, my sandals, the car and at the end of the evening the bath after we washed up for bed!

Studland South Beach Sketch - Copyright R.Weal 1998

After lunch was the rock pooling with Dad and Uncle Steve.  We would always bring back the catch in our buckets to show the rest of the family before quite rightly setting them free back in the sea a little way out from the shore to keep them safe from those pesky seagulls who would otherwise have made a feast of them.

Late afternoon heralded the time to build up the sea defences as the tide turned and headed back in shore. Dad, Uncle Steve, my sisters Shelley, Sarah and I would all valiantly attempt to hold back the sea with large sand walls, deep trenches and lots of shells and stones, but alas to no avail.  The surf always won in the end, but watching the final destruction was also half the fun.

The year I turned ten my Nan taught me to swim at Studland, it is one of those picture perfect memories indelibly written on the fabric of my mind.  I remember how firmly I believed that I was a real mermaid and bless her heart, my Nan didn’t contradict me. Some years later I wrote the following poem about my experience learning to swim at Studland with my Nan.

THE LITTLE MERMAID

If I hold my breath, if I dive real deep, Nan, will the mermaids come and fetch me?
If I close my eyes, if I swim real fast, will I get my mermaid tail at last?
If I sit on the sand, with the sea on head, will I find the mermaid’s bed?

I have to be the little mermaid again; the ten year old girl who believed in miracles, that if she held her breath for long enough, her legs would dissolve and she would be the mermaid beneath the waves. Dancing in the surf, diving in the shallows, revolving around her grandmother’s legs, like yesterday had never happened, that today would never end and there would never be a tomorrow. She lives in me still, the brown eyed, sun kissed child that made her grandmother laugh with the absurdity of her belief and the strength of her conviction. At one with her own nature and the world that she surrounds herself within. Lost within her words, weaving stories around those she loves to fascinate and entice with her picture of another world, a world through her eyes, a world that only she can truly behold.

I feel sometimes as if the cup of my emotion would never cease to overflow, my soul too big for this meagre earthbound frame, spilling out and infecting others with my heightened emotions. An almost frightening power, it slumbers restlessly beneath the surface of the organised and rational woman who stands before you now. I guess she is my artist, she is the words, the movement that courts the tempo, the paint strokes that flow from my hand, the voice in my head that drives me to write, the vision that sees before I ever create the shapes of which only I know the true meaning and the whisper of a thrill that drives me as my body melds to the music. Yet she is also the insidious whisperer, who can drive me to distraction, who can take me to the depths of despair as quickly as she can launch me into the moonlight to bask amongst the stars. And so again it begins to sound like poetry…

If I hold my breath, if I dive real deep, Nan, will the mermaids come and fetch me?
If I close my eyes, if I swim real fast, will I get my mermaid tail at last?
If I sit on the sand, with the sea on head, will I find the mermaid’s bed?

Awaken little mermaid, I truly need to find you.
Ruth Weal 08 November 2006 6.24 am
Copyright R.Weal 2006

Dedicated to two special women
For Nan, for never telling me I could not be the Mermaid of my daydreams
For Susie, for giving me a reason to write the words and find my little mermaid again
x

Swanage Bay

Swanage Sunset - Copyright R.Weal 2006

And now we fix our gaze on Swanage Bay.  Just around the corner from Corfe Castle and Studland, it forms the third point in a geographical triangle of mystical power and protection for me.

Swanage was always where we went for our early evenings after a day out at the beach on Studland.  Fish and chips eaten with legs dangling over the edge of the path down into the harbour.  Wrapped up warm in cardigans to keep out the evening sea breeze.  Fending off the seagulls out to nab our chips (I had a fair few stolen from my fingers) and then into the penny arcades to win a piece of tat and waste some 2ps on the shove ha’ penny machines.

It was with great pleasure to me that Ben and I took Dylan to Swanage and introduced him to all my favourite things to do and it was heartening to see that he enjoyed it as much as I had at his age and that over the years so little had changed.  But what is always enchanting to me is that my enjoyment of the activities had not dimmed in the intervening years between my child and adulthood.

Swanage - Copyright R.Weal 2006

The whole family, grandparents and Uncle Steve included spent a summer holiday in Swanage when I was ten.  I remember clearly the self catering house we had rented high up on the hill and the long walk up from the town centre to get to it.  I remember my parents worrying about our Volkswagen Beetle’s brakes, leaving it in reverse to ensure it was still there when we got up in the morning!

It was that holiday where my Granddad and Uncle Steve successfully got me to put a saucepan on my head and of course my Uncle Steve had his camera handy to record the moment for posterity!  I never did live that one down, it was almost as memorable as the time I excitedly flashed my Granddad my new bra – well it was my first one and I was about 9 at the time!  Truth be told I didn’t have a lot to put into my 24 AA cup anyway ;-P

Well, not to change the subject, but back to the saucepan – you’re probably wondering how they got me to put it on my head in the first place?  Well my Granddad being a first rate deadpan joker had asked me why I was taking a saucepan up the stairs.  When I informed him that there wasn’t a shower head attachment in the bathroom so the saucepan was being used for rinsing of hair he promptly asked me if it would fit and muggins here said “of course”, stuck it on my head and then heard the click of Uncle Steve’s camera.  Yes, I was well and truly got!

Deserted Swanage Bay at 6 am - Copyright R.Weal 1998

I have always loved the little curio shops in Swanage and I could and have spent hours walking in and around them perusing the various items of curiosity, tat and art that they contain.  Even today where many other town high streets are becoming devoid of any diversity Swanage remains a beacon, an oasis of individuality that always heartens me.

There are a number of alternative clothing outlets and I remember I bought a pair of trousers in one of them back in the mid 90s that I still had until a year or two ago.  The patterns on the waist band were faded beyond recognition and the fabric was falling apart, but I had worn those trousers religiously throughout the 90s and into the 00s and it was a really difficult decision to finally let them go.

Swanage Open Air Theatre Sketch - Copyright R.Weal 1998

One of my favourite things about Swanage is the open air theatre and it is a place that I’ve often visited over the years, especially around my birthday, I sketched the picture on the right of the open air theatre as the sun was fading on my birthday back in 1998.

Throughout the summer Swanage puts on a beautiful fireworks display every Saturday night that attracts people from far and wide.  The best vantage point for viewing the fireworks is definitely up on the hill or on the open air theatre.  If you’ve never seen the fireworks you really should go along, especially as they are free!  Get there early (they start at about 8.30 to 9 pm) to get your fish and chips before the queues get too long and to make sure you get a good place to view them as it is very popular, especially in the School summer holidays.

In 1998 I spent my first and only birthday to date alone sat up on the hill looking down over the open air theatre watching the fireworks.  It was as if they had been put on especially for me and it was a wonderful culmination to what was a great day and part of a very special pilgrimage for me.

Swanage is an excellent place to take a holiday or day trip out to.  There’s lots to see and do and it’s also a great base for exploring the surrounding area within the Purbeck Isle.

Wareham Forest

Pine Cones on Branch - Copyright R.Weal 2009

Wareham forest is a stretch of forest that we always used to drive past on our way to Studland beach and also the location of the bumpy road that I mentioned above.  It’s seems strange that as a child we never stopped to walk around this lovely evergreen pine forest, but then again when you’ve got three young girls eager to get to the beach perhaps it’s not so strange!

I didn’t really come to appreciate Wareham forest until I was an adult.  I’ve visited a few times and always had my camera with me to take some pictures of the flora and fauna that is on show in abundance from spring through autumn.

Lichen Close Up - Copyright R.Weal 2009

As someone who has grown up in an area dominated primarily by deciduous forests Wareham forest also has a slightly alien and foreign feel to it that is very appealing to me.  Sometimes it is good to walk in a different world, even if it is only an hour or so away from home.

Wareham forest has some lovely walks, with well trodden and mapped paths which don’t require too much effort to navigate and are not challenging in terms of terrain.  A nice post-Sunday lunch walk could easily take in a good part of the forest and leave you feeling like you walked off the extra roast spud you shouldn’t really have eaten, but not leaving you feeling like you climbed Mount Everest!  It’s also a great place to visit to pick up a few fallen pine cones to decorate for your Christmas Tree.

Lulworth Cove

Finally we come to Lulworth Cove, which I didn’t discover until I was in my early twenties.  It is a beautiful little cove round the corner from Swanage, Studland and Corfe.  Think challenging windswept cliff walks with outstanding views and you’ve pretty much got Lulworth Cove pegged.

One narrow and hilly road descends through the tiny little village, which leads you down into the cove itself.  There’s a large and well equipped  visitor centre which makes it clear to you immediately that this is a National Trust protected piece of coastline.  There’s also ample parking and facilities as well as some local shops and pubs.

Map of the South West Coast Path

If you’re looking for more than a few curio shops and seaside vendors, a good bite to eat with a pint followed by challenging walks with great views then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. The size and peacefulness of Lulworth is the next biggest attraction on top of the outstanding views and walks.

It’s part of the south west coast path, which is the longest way marked long distance path in the country and a national trail, which basically takes you round the south west “foot” of England, starting up in Minehead, Somerset, travelling across the top of Devon and Cornwall, round the tip of Land’s End, back through the bottom of Cornwall and Devon and into Dorset where it ends just past Studland.

Bassett Hound (Lulworth Cove Limestone Folding) - Copyright R.Weal 2009

Lulworth is also part of what is known as the Jurassic Coast, which has been deemed a world heritage site as it consists of Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous cliffs, spanning the Mesozoic Era, documenting 180 million years of geological history.  Lulworth is particularly known for the Cove and its fine example of Limestone folding.  You can see an example of this in the photograph to the left, the limestone folding here gives the impression of a sleeping bassett hound, at least it looks that way to me!

If you want to find out more about the Jurassic Coast the heritage centre at Lulworth Cove is a great resource.  If you’re lucky you might even find yourself a fossil down amongst the rocks and pebbles on the shore!

There isn’t really much more I can say about Lulworth, really it’s the breathtaking views that speak volumes, so I’ll let a few of my pictures do the talking instead of my words.

Lulworth Cove Blues - Copyright R.Weal 2009

Sunset Beach at Lulworth Cove - Copyright R.Weal 2009

Lulworth Cove Setting Sun - Copyright R.Weal 2009

South West Costal Path (Lulworth Cove) - Copyright R.Weal 2009

That concludes the second instalment of my Places of Pilgrimage, if you haven’t seen the first instalment please feel free to check it out and find out about the places I love in my home county of Wiltshire and specifically around the Salisbury Plain. Keep your eyes peeled for the final instalment number three – Glastonbury!

Tread safely in the light my friends.

Wealie
x

Salisbury Plain
Glastonbury

There are a few places that I make a pilgrimage to regularly, where I have a kinship and need to pay homage.  These places are all clustered around three key areas in the South West of England, the Salisbury Plain in Wiltshire, Purbeck Isle in Dorset and Glastonbury in Somerset.  However as I was writing the article to include all the places in those areas it turned out to be far too long, so I decided to make this a three part article.  Today’s article is part one of three and starts with the area closest to home – the Salisbury Plain.

Salisbury Plain

Avebury Stone Avenue - Copyright R.Weal 2010

In, on and around the Salisbury Plain there are a lot of wonderful ancient monuments and sites of historic significance and beautiful landscapes, gardens and breathtaking views.  I love these places and always have done since I was a young child.  Brought up in a family where an appreciation for the richness of history and culture was consistently reinforced and encouraged meant that I was exposed to historic places like Avebury, Silbury Hill, Stonehenge and Kennet Long Barrow on a regular basis.  An appreciation for the beauty and awe inspiring power of nature was bred by numerous visits to places like Stourhead, run by the National Trust and Heaven’s Gate and Shearwater Lake, which are both on the Longleat Estate.

Something about the feats that the builders of the monuments at Avebury, Silbury Hill, Stonehenge and Kennet Long Barrow achieved lent an air of stupefied solemnity to me even as a young child.  I never pass them without a feeling of reverence and pride that I have lived most of my life amongst them and that others travel hundreds of miles for just a glimpse of them and yet right now I drive past them all every day on my way to and from work.

Sunset Stone at Avebury - Copyright R.Weal 2010

Of them all Avebury is the closest to my heart, a place to go and contemplate, the nearest place I have to a church, where I can commune with nature and the power of the Earth itself.  A place where you might find me on the night of a full moon making offerings to concepts bigger than myself.  During the day it is a place I love to have my camera at hand, to capture the desolate beauty of the surrounding countryside, offset against the magnificence of the Avenue and Rings of Stones.  A truly magical and mysterious place that everyone should visit at least once in their life.

When it comes to sheer appreciation of beautiful views I cannot choose between Heaven’s Gate, Shearwater Lake and Stourhead.  All three have very different aspects that I enjoy.

Heaven's Gate Ring - Copyright R.Weal 2007

With Heaven’s Gate most people visit to see the magnificent view down onto the Longleat Estate, but most quickly come to realise that there is so much more to this area, which becomes a riot of colour with the rhododendrons in the spring, the effervescent green of the summer and the autumnal perfection with the turning of the leaves come early October and even in winter the views are quite stunning!  Added to this is the the addition of the Stone Ring and horse shoe of standing stones which were erected as part of the Millennium celebrations.  It’s a beautiful spot for contemplation, photography and an appreciation of the beauty of the British countryside.

As a child we would visit Heaven’s Gate every year for the spring Rhododendrons and the autumnal procession.  I remember thinking it must be some sort of magical place where fairies and angels lived to be called Heaven’s Gate.  In my youth I never quite understood that it was the beauty of the place and it’s views that had lent it such an auspicious name.

Shearwater is a beautiful man made fresh water lake that sits on the outskirts of the Longleat Estate. It’s popular for fishing, sailing, walking, cycling and of course photography.  Shearwater is situated nicely between Longleat and Warminster in a picturesque area of Wiltshire on the cusp of the Deverills at Crockerton.

Last Peek (Shearwater Lake) - Copyright R.Weal 2010

The lake is surrounded by many beautiful specimens of deciduous and evergreen trees and shrubs/bushes such as Rhododendrons.  There’s lots of wildlife on and in the lake, from the fresh water fish – carp, bream, roach, perch, tench and rudd to the many water fowl – Canada geese, ducks and sea gulls.  In the woods the sharp eyed will see numerous grey squirrels and if you’re lucky you might even spot a deer or two peeking out from the dense foliage of ferns.

As a child I used to love running free through the small forest that skirts the lake, walking with my family as my Dad explained things about nature that I found absolutely fascinating and he would make me walking sticks, tickle my back with assorted pieces of foliage and engender a great love and affinity for the woodland around me.  When I visit there these days I am often with camera in hand, but the child within me still has the urge to run wild through the forests and I am transported back to simpler times.

Palladian Bridge and Pantheon view through the trees at Stourhead - Copyright R.Weal 2006

Stourhead was always a full day out.  A beautiful house and managed gardens (I didn’t really appreciate the house as a child).  My sisters and I used to love running through this beautiful garden estate which has various exotic and local varieties of trees some of which date back to the mid 1700s and were planted right at the garden’s inception by Henry Hoare II.  It was Henry who had the gardens designed and created between 1741 and 1780 in a classical 18th Century design, with a central lake as a focal point.  The inspiration for the gardens came from painters such as Claude Lorrain, Poussin and most notably Gaspar Dughet, who painted Utopian style views of Italian landscapes.

The gardens must have been a great labour of love for him and it shows through the attention to detail and the feeling you get of effortlessly walking from one world to the next, so masterfully planned and deliciously executed. Trees and shrubs were brought in from all over the world and successive generations of Hoares added to and enhanced the gardens until it was passed on to the National Trust in 1946 who have continued to care for the house and develop the gardens.

Palladian Bridge in twilight (Stourhead) - Copyright R.Weal 2006

On the surface it would seem that Stourhead bears much in common with Shearwater Lake, a lake at the heart, surrounded by woodland, but Stourhead is a much more controlled and deliberate environment than Shearwater.  This both adds to and detracts from it – the sense of raw, untameable beauty I experienced in the Shearwater Lake forest is missing, but the beautifully crafted temples, bridges and grotto that are dotted throughout the gardens enhance the sense of otherworldliness and a magical timelessness.  The exotic trees and shrubs bring to life vistas many would never have seen without the efforts of the Hoare family.

As a child Stourhead was a place of exploration and adventure, a place to let lose knowing that your parents were just a little way back along the path.  A place to picnic and eat ice-cream in the Spread Eagle Inn just outside the gardens.  I always seem to “glow” when I visit Stourhead, as an adult there are just too many images to capture and like Shearwater Lake and Heaven’s gate spring brings a riot of colour through the Rhododendrons and Autumn is a spectacle of red and gold.

I feel peaceful and right when I’m at Stourhead and that’s a feeling that everyone should be able to experience and cherish.

Well that’s it for this instalment, I hope you enjoyed my memories of the places I love on the Salisbury plain and perhaps I’ve whetted your appetite for a visit.  Don’t forget to watch out for part two of my places of pilgrimage – The Purbeck Isle, where I’ll explore some of my most treasured holiday memories.

Sleep tight pilgrims, see you on the next wagon train.

Wealie
x

The Isle of Purbeck
Glastonbury

Is this what you want from me? - Copyright R.Weal 2007

I read a really good article about depression today called In the Fog by Ginger, who shared her personal story and the things she has learnt about depression and how to cope with it.  If you get the chance it is well worth a read.

It amazes me the number of people that suffer from depression and the common story they all tell of isolation and loneliness.  There is a lot of stigma around depression, I think perhaps mainly because people who don’t suffer can’t quite understand how it works.  They can’t see any visible sign of the disease, they don’t understand how you catch it or if it is contagious and they’re scared by the fact there is no simple cure.  Those that suffer hide their pain and loneliness.  They feel an understandable, but unwarranted shame and weakness, when the truth is far more complicated.  All of this leads to further isolation and more loneliness, often prolonging the suffering needlessly.  The reality is that people with depression, the doctors, psychologists and psychiatrists are not much more the wiser either!

What can we do to lift the stigma?

So many people suffer with depression and stress, far more than admit it and it’s about time we lifted this insidious stigma that has been placed upon the sufferers.  The only way I can see this being possible is if people like Ginger, Shelly, Melissa and I share our experiences and by doing so encourage others to as well.  Please read Ginger, Shelly and Melissa’s experiences and please share your experiences either in my blog’s comments or on your own blog and link it back here.  Let’s take a stand once and for all and shed some light on this murky topic, give solace to those suffering through our experiences of surviving it and helpful tips of how we managed to get through the bad times.  I know when I was at my lowest ebb I would have loved to know that I was not alone.

The artist and depression

One thing I have noted in my discussions of depression with others is that individuals who suffer with depression are often touched with a deep artistic and emotional vein.  They are deeply in touch with their imagination, creativity and the emotional core of their being.  This means they can appreciate the simple pleasures, find beauty in what others might find ugly, will find goodness in unlikely places and are capable of producing the most wonderful, engaging, magical and beautiful works of art.  But in all things there is a balance, a yin to the yang and if an artistic individual has the ability to see the merest light and beauty in life, they are equally capable of falling into the darkness and becoming mired in the ugliness of life.

My personal experiences with depression

Don't Forget Me - Because Sometimes Moving on and Letting Go Isn't Simple - Copyright R.Weal 2008

I have suffered with depression over the years, sometimes to the point at which it became completely debilitating and other times where no one, not even my closest friends and family were aware that I was anything more than a little bit blue.   I think it started fairly early around 14, but I didn’t understand what it was.  I just felt like I didn’t want to be around anyone, I didn’t want to leave my bedroom, let alone the house.  I just wanted to escape into books and my artistic outlets, listening to music, shutting myself off from the real world, existing in an imaginary world where no one could reach or hurt me.  As I was living at home it was fairly mild and went unnoticed by my family.  It was a recurring theme of my teens, but it wasn’t until I was 24 that I had my first real all out fight with depression, which also turned out to be the most cataclysmic!

At 24 I was in a relationship that was stifling me, that I couldn’t see my way clear of and my relationship with my mother had hit an all time low from which it never recovered.  I had no direction, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, though everyone seemed to think they knew who I was, what I stood for and where I was going, what I should be doing and it was at odds with the secret dreams I held deep within me.  In addition to the symptoms I had suffered in my teens I got severe anxiety, being unable to keep down any food, sometimes not even being able to drink water for the severity of the butterflies that took up permanent residence in my stomach.  I lost a terrible amount of weight in a very short time (a lot of people thought I was anorexic or bulimic).  I had severe insomnia and would drive around at night for hours on end, (it was not uncommon for me to do over 100 miles in a night!).  I was restless and yet listless, I didn’t want to leave the house and yet could not stay in the company of my partner.  I barely ate or drank, and on weekends when my partner wasn’t there I never got out of bed and just slept.

Finally I found myself completely exhausted, at my wits end standing at the edge of the ocean with an insidious voice calling out to me of what it would be like to just keep walking and then just swimming out further and further from shore, until my limbs grew tired and cold, my mind peaceful and numb and I could just not worry about living any more, to give myself over to the tide of death and her deadly siren song.  It seemed to me that I did not have one reason to live, not one bright spark of hope in my future and that the world and everyone in it would have been better off without me.  I was so alone, stood out in the wind and rain not feeling the cold or the wet, ready to give up on life at such a young age.

This is not an easy thing for me to share, even as I type this I am transported back to that beach and it brings tears to my eyes, but it is important to me that I share this, so that should just one person suffering read this then they might know that they are not alone, that I have stood where they do now and that through reading this they might see that there is hope.

The Light in my darkness

And in my darkest hour it was my art that shed the light that saved me.  Just as I was contemplating moving my feet forward into the water a single line of poetry entered my head and suddenly for just one more minute I had a reason to keep breathing, a need to live to give birth to the poem that began to beat incessantly within my head.  I turned away from the insidious whispers of oblivion, got back in my car and went home to write the poem and then fell into an exhausted unconsciousness.

The next morning I awoke petrified by my actions of the night before, it was like a terrible nightmare, but I knew that it was real, if not for the poem staring up at me from the paper on the desk.  I phoned the doctors got an emergency appointment and was finally diagnosed and treated for depression with counselling and anti-depressants.

This is the poem that saved me:

THE STORM

It is easy to find oneself lost within the storm. It approaches so silently; no earthly being can escape its wake. Encompassing you within its heartless winds, buffeting your heart with its cool kiss. You stand alone as it beats down its tears of rage, blistering upon your furrowed brow, leave me, please leave me now. Insignificant spec, I cannot hear my heart, I am mute in my discontent and still this storm vents.

“I am lost”, I am losing my grip and I fear I shall fall. Who then shall be there to listen, who shall wait at the foot of the precipice for my ungainly fate? I am nothing, I am not even hate. What does it matter, I hear the hounds at my door, this isn’t my time, this isn’t my place, but who am I to question almighty fate?

Anger seething still within, but I’m so tired, the sea calls out to me through the din. Whispered longing to know my flesh, a reckless abandon rests beneath my breast. Silent entreaty I pray to the night, but my angel has taken his flight. To dance again my one request, I wait upon your true caress.

Ruth Weal
10th November 1999 11.20 pm
Copyright R.Weal 1999 ©

The importance of art for expression and as a coping mechanism

Convergence (A Self Portrait) - Copyright R.Weal 2008

The Storm is just a few scant verses and stylistically not my best work, but it is by far my most important and most deeply cherished!  You cannot under estimate the importance of art as a means of expression and a coping mechanism.

Perversely I have created some of my most charged and beautiful works of art in my depression.  The depth of the emotions that depression draws from me has allowed me to open up my artistry to levels I never would have dreamed possible in my mentally healthy state.

It is an important method of coping with the emotions that you cannot verbalise or cry out.  It gave me a sense of fulfilment that even on my very worst days I had not wasted them because I had written a poem, painted a picture, taken and edited a photograph.  Art gave meaning to my depression, which allowed me to understand it and in turn better know myself and why the depression had taken hold.

Would I take a cure?

I have often wrangled with the idea of what I would do if a quick cure for depression became available. The decision to take it would not be an easy one, for as much as my demons haunt me and can be destructive to my life they can also be instructive, creative and humbling.  My depression is a part of me, part of the balance of my being that makes me a better person I think.

When I took anti-depressants I found myself feeling strangely disconnected from myself, I was flat, no longer able to touch my emotions and engage with the creativity that they drew from me.  It was quite a disconcerting and frightening experience and I took myself off the pills fairly quickly (not that I’m advocating everyone should do that, especially not without consulting your doctor!).

How do I cope?

For me pills were not the answer, there is no quick fix for my depression it is much like a reformed alcoholic of years who continues to go to AA meetings because they will always be haunted by the spectre of the addiction and relapses are always a possibility.  Depression is a silent, insidious creeping disease that can take you by surprise if you don’t take the time to watch yourself carefully.

I am lucky not to have ever relapsed to the state I was in when “The Storm” came to save me.  I am ever vigilant and yet sometimes the depression gets the better of me, but today I understand it and me well enough to weather the storm.  I know how to combat and control it with my coping mechanisms.

Here’s what works for me:

1. Channel the emotion through art - Whatever it is, no matter the medium or how good or bad you think it may be. Get it out, let it live in all its glory and make something positive out of the experience.  All my depressed pieces rank amongst those I am most proud and fond of
2. Share your art and experiences – the first time I got up and read my poetry out loud was a revelation and it is an amazing feeling when people come up to you and tell you they’ve felt that way, or that what you read has helped them too.  Not to mention the wonderful comments I’ve received on my flickr account for my artistic photography
3. Give yourself leave to feel the emotion – Sometimes you have to give in, let it consume you for just a little while to bank the fires and keep control
4. Try and be open about how you are feeling with those closest to you – This is the part I find the most difficult.  I’m a very emotional person, but I keep it all very close to my heart and find it excruciating sometimes to externalise what I feel unless it is through art, but I am slowly getting better at it.
5. Seek help – I had a fantastic doctor when I was 24 who couldn’t do enough to help me.  It felt wonderful just to know that I wasn’t being silly, that I really was ill and the counselling was a great experience that gave me a completely unbiased person to talk to, who didn’t have a stake in the lives of any of the people I spoke to her about.

To my fellow suffers

Though I do not know your names, I know your hearts, I hear your souls crying out.  I have one truly important thing to tell you YOU ARE NOT ALONE and I am here for you if you need me.  Feel free to comment on the blog or email me at info@wealie.co.uk, I promise to respond!

Take what you can from my experience and my art, it is freely given with all my love and friendship and no requirement for you to give anything back.  But when and if you feel strong enough I urge you to share your experiences so that we might lift the veil of silence, burn off the stigma and maybe help another sufferer or two along the way.

Sleep safely, and find me in the newborn night.

Oblivion knows my name and she whispers softly to me.

Wealie x

Other great blog posts about depression

• In the Fog by Ginger on her blog Seamstress of Avalon
• Creative Depression by Melissa on her blog Sugar Filled Emotions
• Grateful for depression by Christine on her inspirational blog Hope despite Depression
• Depression and Chronic Illness by Foxy on their blog Foxy in the Waiting Room

Reflected Glory - Shearwater Lake, Copyright R.Weal 2010

I recently read a very interesting article by No Beaten Path called Can you travel without a camera.  It made some interesting points, not least of which was about people taking photos to prove that they’ve been somewhere rather than because they liked what they were photographing or wanted to be reminded of the place.  This kind of documentation is neither artistic nor experiential in nature and seems rather hollow to me.  Photography by it’s very nature is isolating and observational, but a great photographer is also and artist, they need to experience an emotion, a connection with the subject they wish to capture, which lends a depth to it that the snapshot of the “other half” in front of a Pyramid lacks.

As someone with an artistic eye I like to take pictures of things that interested me, a magical, possibly incongruous moment, capturing the fine details that would not otherwise have registered, a single feather trapped in a cobweb, the crumbling stone of a monument. My photographs are living things, when I get them home I open them up in Photoshop and editing them brings back the memory of the experience and this then has an effect on the edited picture. It doesn’t stop there, next the pictures I have chosen to edit are uploaded to flickr, titles, descriptions and tags are carefully chosen to lend additional depth, understanding and meaning. Sometimes a photograph can provide the inspiration for poetry. My end products then act as a reminder to myself not just of the experience I had in taking the photograph, but in the selection of the picture for editing, the journey of the editing experience and finally the story of the embellishments added through words and if I’m lucky the inspiration found and woven into poetry or prose.

The lightest touch on red - copyright R.Weal 2010

I generally always have my camera with me, just in case there is a moment that I need to capture, but don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel the need to photograph every sunset I see, but you never know when an opportunity will present itself and you need to be prepared! I’m often annoyed if I see something that I think is beautiful, unusual or interesting and I don’t have the camera to capture it for posterity and to share with other like minded individuals.

At the other end of the scale I can’t stand it when people take cameras into art galleries, after all the postcards can always be purchased from the gift shop for posterity and if you’re that worried you can always scan them in on the computer back home! Art should be experienced and when you are photographing you are observing not experiencing.  Unless your photograph can add something new artistically to the art you have to question why you are taking the picture?

When I travel I like to strike a balance between observing and capturing the beauty of the world around me and experiencing it so that when I do come back and view the pictures the memories will flood back not of just taking pictures, but of the wealth of emotions I felt whilst experiencing the place.

Remember, happy snapping, but not at the expense of your experience.

Wealie x