The mist may seem to throw the mountain
into obscurity, but nothing can shake its grand
Jottings, 59, page 78
Living here in earth is to have access to art in incalculable forms. The sky above high fells and mountains in our part of the world is a celestial art gallery, and the mood of each and every “painted” sky and landscape changes second by second. Warmed by the sun, cooled and whipped by wind, sparkling with rainwater and overflowing rivers, lightly blanketed, darkly hidden and shrouded, black and blue and brown, and green and grey and gold, purple and red and violet and yellow – and always, beneath the vibrant kaleidoscope, unshaken – as Tagore observed – unmoving majesty. Art leads us to the Heart.