This series draws upon weather folklore and predictions to reflect on personal circumstances. The sayings simplify situations, foretelling the future based on clouds shapes and sky colours, (if only life could be foretold so succinctly) and make for work that is somewhat melancholy and wistful.

In 1999 Jill earned her pilot’s license, and since then aerial imagery has factored into her work. Aviation maneuvers and terminology are used metaphorically to connect personal moments, experiences and memories.

The images are inspired by the look and feel of the landscape from the air and by a heightened awareness of potential danger and risk. The distance and perspective encourage reflection and contemplation while the flattened landforms act as a coloured slate to superimpose the ideas upon.

Using watchwords, phrases and seafaring terminology, these images look at the notion of navigating through life, involving an exploration of depth, change, distance, manoeuvring and arriving.

This project deals with themes of abandoning, ending, and cancelling through an investigation into the paintings and concerns of Canadian painter David Milne (1882-1953).

I spent the month of October, 2016 in The Shetland Islands, Scotland, and stayed in the town of Scalloway at The Booth, an artist residency or more specifically a live / work space for one artist.

I live inland and so island culture and landscape are unfamiliar to me, making me feel off kilter and aware that I am a landlubber. In Shetland the water is a constant presence. I found a way around the new landscape and began work on several series.

Lines of cut peat stood out navy against the pink of the heather. I was intrigued by the integration of manmade lines within a natural landscape.  

Awake in the night in new surroundings led to some restless dark images.

Maritime signaling flags are used to send codes between vessels. Many of the messages seemed directed at me as I struggled to get underway….. “I Want to Communicate with You”… “I am Having Difficulty Maneuvering”…” I am Dragging My Anchor.”

This experience feels open ended and unfinished. I am considering returning.

My sister and I applied for and received artist residencies for the month of September, 2018 at The Jennifer Keefe Studio in Newfoundland.

We boarded the ferry at Farewell, departed the mainland, bound for Tilting, a small outport community on the eastern tip of Fogo Island, right at the edge of the continent. Tilting has a stopped time feeling, with traditional 2-storey houses, red fishing sheds, and boats hauled up on slipways.

We stayed in a 3 bedroom former merchant’s house, a comfortable, uncluttered, easy place to settle into for a month. The “back kitchen studio” was a bright purpose-built work space that we quickly organized to suit our needs.

On arrival, we immediately set out on foot to explore our surroundings and within five minutes, were on the trail leading into Oliver’s Cove where pink Fireweed flamed against the pale yellow brushes of Canadian Burnet. Weathered silvery pickets of saplings and homemade gates secured with turquoise rope delineated family garden plots.  The sea crashed, turning and tumbling the rocks at the shore.

Our days took on a rhythm. 

Mornings were spent in the studio, assessing work, finishing pieces, musing and devising new strategies. Afternoons we set out with paints, paper and collapsible chairs in our packs. We’d search out a painting place at Oliver’s Cove Beach, Potato Hole Point, Hurley’s Cove, Tickle of the Head, Pummely Cove Pond or Tom Ryan’s Gulch. Tucked into the lee of the wind we’d begin…. to look, decide, glean, and simplify.

Painting out of doors is all fast and slow. Absorbing and distilling takes time, but a decisive stroke is needed. We wrestled with it. We tried to pin down the light, the wind, the clouds – everything in motion.

We were adrift, and when we returned home to Ontario, we felt slightly wobbly from the angle of Tilting.