Boat building Days

Toroa ~ In all her sunshine glory on passage from Brooklin to Newport RI. It has to be said that the latter part of 2017, saw my creative practice almost totally abandoned, in favour of the build, launch and commission of a 72ft sailing vessel with luxury interior. The project has been a joyful rollercoaster and one that I have truly relished. The images below show a glimpse into the type of work involved, I am unable to share too much given that the boat is privately owned, however, I have been pleasantly surprised by the amount of satisfaction I have felt upon its completion. To watch and aid in the transformation of a pile of raw materials into floating vessel, which works, moves sails, flies even has been nothing short of amazing. To feel the structure you have nurtured fill with the power of the wind for the first time and take off is a miraculous feeling and I am so grateful to everybody that has put time and effort into turning "Toroa" into the boat she is today.  You can see more of her here.

Toroa ~ In all her sunshine glory on passage from Brooklin to Newport RI.

It has to be said that the latter part of 2017, saw my creative practice almost totally abandoned, in favour of the build, launch and commission of a 72ft sailing vessel with luxury interior. The project has been a joyful rollercoaster and one that I have truly relished. The images below show a glimpse into the type of work involved, I am unable to share too much given that the boat is privately owned, however, I have been pleasantly surprised by the amount of satisfaction I have felt upon its completion. To watch and aid in the transformation of a pile of raw materials into floating vessel, which works, moves sails, flies even has been nothing short of amazing. To feel the structure you have nurtured fill with the power of the wind for the first time and take off is a miraculous feeling and I am so grateful to everybody that has put time and effort into turning "Toroa" into the boat she is today.  You can see more of her here.

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If you have any questions about working on boats, sailing or what it is like to work on a new build, please do not hesitate to get in touch! Just comment below or send a message to studio@stella-marina.co.uk !

📍Brooklin M.E

This vagrant living has come at a good time for me, I had become settled in my practice at home. Begun once agin to establish a formula for making work, something which only ever leads to boredom and monotony. I have enjoyed the challenge, and have not been short on inspiration! The challenges of the frozen temperatures design new and exciting ways of mark making. The transient moments captured here in paint form traces or ghosts if you like, of a totally atmospheric experience. 

So the new home is not so bad!

  The reality of moving home is slowly settling as the snow starts to melt..... America really is a very beautiful country. Maine is not somewhere I had ever really considered visiting, let alone living, isn't curious the curving roads our lives end up taking.  

 

The reality of moving home is slowly settling as the snow starts to melt..... America really is a very beautiful country. Maine is not somewhere I had ever really considered visiting, let alone living, isn't curious the curving roads our lives end up taking.

 

Aesthetics, in a shipyard

It’s been awhile, a long old while dear. Once again I must blame time at sea for this absence, however to lay fault with such an indulgence would be nothing but a sin.

           In fact, if anything, this year I have solidified my practice as a sailor more than as an artist, and strangely do not mind a bit, each significantly informs the other and every day I become more entwined as one person in my daily practice, rather than a person split between two such separate worlds. Such a revelation also comes with a new chapter, as for the time being I have left my home in West Cornwall and am working in a shipyard in Maine, North America. 

 

A shipyard is a place of significant anthropological interest, though given the maritime industries fairly significant antiquity and agenda,  this may seem somewhat unsurprising. It’s hierarchical conflicts, are testosterone fuelled to a chorus of power tools and as the sawdust settles I quietly observe. I feel sure it has always been this way,  for close to five years I have worked in and out of these rogue places, filled with the grunts of men, wrestling rust and corrosion. Seafarers and shipwrights by default seem to be those with a glint in their eyes and a certain flair for bending the rules and there are times that I wonder how the hell I ended up working in this bizarre and backwards industry, when to remain gracious and polite feels impossible and the desire to scream is almost deafening. When the need to unpick generations of gender sweeping stereotyping feels an unbearable and unjust burden, when, after all you just want to get on with your job. . .