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Conkers
Portraits of the humble Horse Chestnut
The Horse Chestnut holds many a memory for me in its warm, reflective surface. Redolent of school days, they are lumped in with drizzle, bonfires and the cordite tang of sparklers in my mind’s Autumnal reference library. Their fleeting presence enlivens the early Autumn just as much as catkins and daffodils do Spring.
As children, we collected and treated them to a variety of experimental processes to try and produce a champion conker. They would alternately be baked, frozen and pickled, polished and hammered to try to gain an advantage over other boys’ efforts.
When deemed to be sufficiently hardened, we would drill and thread them onto an old bootlace (leather ideally) ready to be swung with as much force as possible at an opponent’s dangling prize.
My knuckles still throb at the memory of the ones that missed.
For a few years now I have diversified from my main work of figurative art to paint the odd landscape. These were done ‘Au Plein Air’ where I feel most connected to nature. It also became a convenient excuse for a day out from the office, in the sunshine. During the frustrating periods when the weather was too poor to go outside to paint, I also tried my hand at pastel drawings of landscapes from photographs. I have to confess that I was less enthused by…
