Susan Miller 1

Susan Miller

There are places I like to be, one in particular. It gives me pleasure to find ways of painting how I feel when I am there. 

Look and look again. This world is not just a little thrill for the eyes…..(Mary Oliver – To Begin With, the Sweet Grass)

So that’s what I try to paint, the feeling of what I call stillness which this place gives me.

Anita Reynolds

Anita Reynolds

“The painter goes through the land and sees what nobody else has seen because landscape painting comes from inside not out”

Christopher Neve – Unquiet Landscape

My works explore the integral connection between place and the human condition; in particular the scarring and subsequent healing of the landscape reflecting personal experiences. 

I have read T.S Eliot’s swansong Four Quartets many times during my adult life, I have to confess that I still don’t fully understand it all and probably never will. I have phrases from the works that resonate with me, and despite being baffled, I keep being called back to them.

Eliot questioned the human experience, the human construct of time, our search for purpose and the fragility of life. In his second poem East Coker he speaks of the cycle of birth and death. 

“Love is most nearly itself, When here and now cease to matter”

My understanding of this is that there is something beyond here and now that we need to connect with. The connection that I have to the thin places on Dartmoor, how I feel when visiting and making images, is the closest I can get to explaining my own work. I find it extremely difficult to articulate in words how I feel when responding to place, it is an ancient, deep gut response that we no longer seem to understand. 

Image: Marking Time

Rachael 2

Rachael Bennett

For this exhibition I have made 3 pieces of work, all of which in differing ways show the emotional residue within landscape, the sense of place and people that is still present in ancient environments such as Dartmoor, where past lives have physically and emotionally shaped the land and left their story.

In Natural Art the plant life imprinted in Dartmoor’s granite walls, stones and lanes, where life merges, fuses and softens the harsh environment over time and the stone continue to pulsate with life.

ForeShadow embraces the wider working landscape forged into stone and earth over years of toil and ingenuity. Here I have used stitch as my mark making tool: the pace, rhythm  and historical contexts of returning to work with threads has personal and historical resonance for me.

Shelter is made from collaged papers produced after spending time sketching on location at Powderham Castle. Here the specimen trees have been planned and landscaped over history and have encompassed and merged with place and time while providing physical and emotional 

image: NarturalArt 9 piece panel Mixed media and collage on canvas £900 93 x 77 cm

Rebecca Baker

Rebecca Baker

Impermanence. Living on Dartmoor I see constant change in the landscape, the mists that hang in the morning, the scudding clouds rapidly changing the light and colour, the swell and shrink of the streams and rivers, the erosion, the creeping of the seasons – continuous change, impermanence. Trying not to assume anything or take anything for granted – working outside I look, I sketch, I paint what I see.

Petra Lewin

Petra Lewin

I do not often consciously start out with an artistic concept in mind when I begin working. 

However, when I look back at my completed work for this project, I realise that much of what I have created  has come from a place deep within my own thoughts, driven by my inner wisdom and insight.

For example,          some of my pictures show waving and twisted lines which I feel suggest the idea of a desire to gain a better understanding of complex and complicated issues. 

Some of the liens are knotted and entangled           where perhaps I am expressing the struggle we all experience, with navigating through life’s problems and puzzles.

In some of my work,     it is perhaps more obvious,        with brick-like shapes showing the barriers that few want to break through.

To me,          the crossing lines on some of these particular images represent the spiritual,      emotional.         And physical journeys we are on to help us break free and overcome all our obstacles,         both in the world of art and the wider world!

Julie Talbot-Dunn

Julie Talbot-Dunn

Insight intangible, feeling, sensing, translating. Trust within, and allow the brush to speak. Stay out of the conversation and brilliance will come in.

image: Springtime acrylic on canvas 100cmx100cm

Andy 1 smaller

Andy Coldrey

What the creative process can do is to offer both the viewer of a work of art and the artist themselves, an insight into how the thoughts, emotions and insights of the creator manifest in a two dimensional painting. My work in this show is an interpretation of my dream world, be that from my sleeping dreams, or my daydreams. Dreams can hold a key to the exploration of the subconscious. The subconscious can give access to another way of seeing the world. To map that world, to paint that world, is to fix it in a new reality.

@andycoldreyart on Insta and Facebook

1, Josie Gould, graphite

Josie Gould

There are times spent in Vipassana meditation practise, and when I am fully present and aware in the landscape and places around me, when I enter a way of ‘dwelling’ of ‘being-in-the-world’, in relationship to the world which the philosopher Heidegger called ‘Dasein’. 

Dwelling in the world in this way my senses, feelings and awareness of time and space slow down, merging into a simple, very alive and present experience of fluid moments of changing phenomenon and happenings. In this space of impermanence my eye slowly, continuously follows the seemingly spontaneous phenomena, lines and shapes that it is attracted to and curious about in the qualities before me, through the pencil or paint onto the drawing paper.

Being with and reflecting on these gestural drawings and paintings reminds me of the Buddhist understanding of interdependence in the world. Every thing and every occurrence being dependent on all other things in a mutual relationship which Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hahn called ‘Inter-being’ *.

Noticing this ‘inter-being’, the web of relationships that bind the universe together into a cohesive whole, spatially and in time, can sometimes reveal causality in action*, moments when the relationship between cause and effect become apparent.

Deeper awareness of these universal laws of cause and effect, the persistent life-force back of things occurring in their own natural, meaningless rhythms and patterns, may also potentially bring better awareness of contingencies*. Those future events or circumstances which are possible but, being dependent on whatever is actually taking place in a given world, cannot be predicted with certainty. 

Embracing this uncertainty in all its eternally messy and chaotic unfolding I gratefully celebrate in awe and wonder, all that life is.

image: And the wind blew through

Avenda Burnell Walsh 2

Avenda Burnell Walsh

My journey has travelled through Emotional Residue, often beyond sight but waiting to be discovered. Where thought falls away and only a luminous quality remains. Where we are unmasked, becoming our essential selves.

There are times and places in the world where the walls are weak, suspended between coming and going. There are moments when time has burst its banks. 

Moments that beguile and inspire, sedate and stir, where I witness humanity, for a few blissful moments, loosening its death grip on life and taking breath.

Emotional Residue is ineffable, the stuff we can’t express because it’s beyond the power of language to do so. My marks are my own path, my own attempt to anchor it on paper. 

Image: I Draw Breath

I DRAW BREATH yoga breathing blind drawing

Slow, slow I draw breath, my breath

So I might breathe it out on paper.

My breath. Drawn down to belly and toes,

Drawn in, passing colours through closed eyes,

Feeling a path through charcoaled fingers

It lingers in the air and then exhales.

Light, hard, left, right, loose, tight.

To rub or shove, or stretch and curl,

The graphite whorl spells out drawn breath

Across the page of freedom unseen before me.

I will not look yet.

Let the ink jet black unfold its surprise.

Aah, eyes unfurl. Yes. I have drawn breath.

UNEARTHING DARTMOOR FIELD TRIP observations of a markmaker

Spectacular fairy ring of rabbit pooh and tender heather

Rusty heifers with mismatched horns, the young ones skittering and
scampering in playful uncertainty

Pale yellow slender grasses growing strangely brighter, glowing even, as
sun fades at the close of making marks

Gorse scratching, gouging, mark making our thighs

Hastily tucking trouser legs into socks for fear of ticks, spiders,
lizards and adders

The magic of fading sun and clouds on dark water pond, that stares back
at us as we stand and look, and stand and look, and then get bitten

Still scratching at imaginary ants in pants, must investigate that later

The path is there, we see it easily on the back track, the light now
faded, but the path still glowing sandy bright, laughing smug at us who
missed it hours before and scrabbled long through thick and thin, rough
and tougher, sticky and prickly, tender lichens pale and magic, heathers
new and shouting colour, embryonic spruce trees fledging their tiny

We saw it all

We saw and sought to make our marks

And marks escaped us, but we found one or two and caged them in our

Ursula 1

Ursula Livingstone

These pictures are made to encourage the transformation and flow from suffering through to acceptance and to inspire bravery and grace, I paint the act of moving through the lanes and woods near our home.The making of images helps me navigate emotions.

image: The hill and the body combined oil on canvas on board £10,000.00

6 under

Jo Gibson

Insight. a journey of self discovery, realisation and further understanding of the way I work – the way I want to work and the materials I choose to use.

This work shows the unexpected ‘happy accidents’ and the magic.

My work is experimental – intuitive and free. I go where the marks take me – responding accordingly. I utilise ‘happy accidents’ creating subconscious imagery which appears as if by magic. Unpredictable. It’s as if I have had no part in it. 

Have I? Yes I have. Is it alchemy?

image: another place mixed media on canvas £250

Katheryn Wabi-sabi b

Katheryn Trenshaw

Revealing the concealed, layer after layer.
Delicate, translucent.

A life lived.
A loss grieved.
An experience integrated. 

Marking, drawing, painting, and then sanding back.
Painting, drawing and mark-making again,
adding detritus and discarded but beautiful patterns and shapes. Layering paintings like the palimpsests of our lives. 

Art full of wabi-sabi wisdom, the perfection of imperfection and occasional broken-open places is marked with time, scars, incisions and alterations… just like our own bodies. 

These are paintings as reflections of getting INTO and UNDER our skin – weathered, worn, wonderful and wise. Touched, held, loved and altered by human exchanges. 

They are like writing on skin in the fashion of monks of olden times, repeatedly writing and erasing whilst leaving traces…
recording our loves, losses, laughter, lives. 

This body of work is made up of inside-out images that comprise a presence practice, revealing hidden treasures. 

image: Wabi-sabi … 

Jane Ellis 1

Jane Ellis

Artist plantsman living on the edge of Dartmoor

i walk 

i see colour 

i paint

Making art is all about breathing out what is inside, it is just another way of keeping a diary (emotional or otherwise) a fleeting moment in a timeless space

The energy of nature invites me to paint, creates a space in which to immerse myself,  the place, my emotions to reveal the submerged, presences that underlie existence

i only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, i found, was really going in

john muir

image: Whimsical sprites

Polly Delahoy

Polly Delahoy

“Everything we see hides another thing; we always want to see what is hidden by what we see.” Rene Magritte

This quote interests me and I relate it to my art practice and interpret it as follows;

When I sketch and paint, I am influenced by many things. Those influences are not always apparent to the viewer and may trigger a need to know. A painting offers a glimpse of what is held within me and my life experience. As an Artist I can share further explanation, but this may or may not be the whole story. Life is full of expectation and intrigue, but human nature often leads us down a road of needing to know, this uncertainty can be uncomfortable, however if we can sit with the unknown, embrace curiosity we may develop our own individual Insights.

When I am painting and sketching I am responding to the immediate influences in my day-to-day life and work, psychologically, emotionally, spiritually and physically. Being in the landscape, whether on sight or painting from memory, serves as a place to escape providing a sense of Solace. When I paint or sketch, my internal landscape and the external world merge.

During preparation for this exhibition, I had a ‘lightbulb moment’ linking my experience and memories of living in Ireland as a child and a young adult. I gained clarity on how this connects to my art practice in the here and now. These paintings link my life in the South West and memories of my life in Ireland.

image: Whistlin Wind

Judy Cockram

Judy Cockram

This work is an immediate response to Caroline Ann Duffy’s poem 

Little Red Cap, about the coming of age of a young girl, which was read at Markmakers on an evening of poetry. 

I found the poem very unsettling and it provoked in me a sense of foreboding, feelings of ambivalence, anger, darkness and yet a knowing. Questions of whether she was taken advantage of or if it was meaningful and mutual. I found it a powerful poem that I have returned to, though the pieces of work have remained untouched since that evening.

Little Red-Cap by Carol Ann Duffy

At childhood’s end, the houses petered out

into playing fields, the factory, allotments

kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men,

the silent railway line, the hermit’s caravan,

till you came at last to the edge of the woods.

It was there that I first clapped eyes on the wolf.

He stood in a clearing, reading his verse out loud

in his wolfy drawl, a paperback in his hairy paw,

red wine staining his bearded jaw. What big ears

he had! What big eyes he had! What teeth!

In the interval, I made quite sure he spotted me,

sweet sixteen, never been, babe, waif, and bought me a drink,

my first. You might ask why. Here’s why. Poetry.

The wolf, I knew, would lead me deep into the woods,

away from home, to a dark tangled thorny place

lit by the eyes of owls. I crawled in his wake,

my stockings ripped to shreds, scraps of red from my blazer

snagged on twig and branch, murder clues. I lost both shoes

but got there, wolf’s lair, better beware. Lesson one that night,

breath of the wolf in my ear, was the love poem.

I clung till dawn to his thrashing fur, for

what little girl doesn’t dearly love a wolf?1

Then I slid from between his heavy matted paws

and went in search of a living bird – white dove –

which flew, straight, from my hands to his hope mouth.

One bite, dead. How nice, breakfast in bed, he said,

licking his chops. As soon as he slept, I crept to the back

of the lair, where a whole wall was crimson, gold, aglow with books.

Words, words were truly alive on the tongue, in the head,

warm, beating, frantic, winged; music and blood.

But then I was young – and it took ten years

in the woods to tell that a mushroom

stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds

are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf

howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out,

season after season, same rhyme, same reason. I took an axe

to a willow to see how it wept. I took an axe to a salmon

to see how it leapt. I took an axe to the wolf

as he slept, one chop, scrotum to throat, and saw

the glistening, virgin white of my grandmother’s bones.

I filled his old belly with stones. I stitched him up.

Out of the forest I come with my flowers, singing, all alone.


Dolly Kary

“Insight” is the intimate relationship with my ever developing self through the portal of the recent deaths of three members of my family. A painful astonishing process of change that has broken, opened and healed my heart in ways beyond the assumptions and immediacy of grief. The words for which evaporate when I try to grasp and explain what I mean. No mark I make nor word I utter will ever touch where I’ve been, where I am or where I’m going.  

Instead, through metaphor and nature, I find ways to articulate and to stay open to my questions without the need for answers. Thus my insight can develop as new questions germinate. Perhaps the spirit of all entities is held within or without the body of each living thing? As a metaphor, would it suffice to introduce the humble husk of a tomatillo to represent the remaining intricately evident traces of a life once lived? Does that life live on in the spirit of the seed? 

The phrase “In Sight” brings up other words like being visible, seeable, within the view of another, observable, exposed, noticeable, revealed, perceptible, transparent. To explore this I have used the husk of the tomatillo with its intricate trails of fine veins and delicate transparent form. What you see with your naked eye is but one perspective and is magnified by the reflection in the mirror. In order to expand and entice you to look closer the magnifying glass can further reveal the varying dimensions of what is within your sight. Take a look? What do you see? 

A response to both “Insight” and “In sight”


Beverley Samler

When we conceived this exhibition one of our members said to me “Do something that means something to you.” This is what emerged. I thought back on my past, and what had real meaning for me. I found that the work I had been making 20 years ago still touched my soul and so my InSight pieces follow these same themes. My roots run deep in Africa, and encompass it’s physical make up, it’s people, it’s violence, it’s customs and above all, a spiritual pull that is ingrained in my being.


Making these works has given me a sense of peace that I have not lost these intense memories and connections. 


Sue Kellam

All my work is to do with looking, feeling, moving and responding 

in the present moment with whatever materials I have at hand.

It is important for me to feel free to make marks and play

Without expectation in order to recreate my lived experience. 

Artwork, like life, is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to connect with …

And this means letting go.