Landscape Spirit and an Artist's Soul

"Nodau Golau" (Light Notes), Snowdon

2013-05-11T12:52:00.000+01:00

The first of just three prints (No 3 of 3) in the largest A1 size edition of "Light Notes" has been purchased by friend and long time supporter of my work, Jen Williams. Anglesey based Jen has been wanting to buy one of my editions for a very long time and now her dream has come true. I finished framing it yesterday and it looks fabulous.

"Noda Golau" (Light Notes) - Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) © Glyn Davies - Click image to buy

From the original blog post ; "Thanks to the earlier shoot I was already in a very positive photographic mood anyway, but sitting here quietly on the summit, just me and my model, absorbing the ambience, the vista, and watching the weather go by, I was utterly blown away by the view and the events. This was one of the best 'mountain light' days for me in ages and I just became very meditative surrounded by the drama of the changing atmosphere. We sat there for maybe an hour, even my model in awe at the scene before us."

http://www.glynsblog.com/2011/11/nude-under-weather-in-snowdonia.html

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2013 - All Rights Reserved
Main website HERE - www.glyndavies.com

Rippled Pink - Aberdesach, last of 3 prints remaining

2013-05-07T21:49:00.000+01:00

Today, a seriously committed photographic enthusiast purchased the second of three Limited Edition prints of "Rippled Pink" Aberdesach, Llyn Peninsula. Simon Beesley is looking to come on my Cornish photo workshop but in the meantime he paid a visit to the gallery, where we had a really lovely chat and catch up. Not only did he walk away with a copy of my third book, to accompany the other three volumes he has already bought, but he also purchased No.2 of 3 of just three Limited Editions of Rippled Pink, leaving just one left for sale!

"Rippled Pink" was taken at the quiet and isolated beach of Aberdesach on the North coast of the Llŷn Peninsula. The location was loosely suggested by an interested friend of mine so I made a special trip to explore the place and see what I could come up with. I had a brilliant time immersing myself in the location and came up with some very lush images, see the original blog post HERE.

There is now just ONE large print left of this image. Please ring 01248 715511 (Wed-Sat) to order this very last copy

Thank you

Light Beneath the Waves, Porthcurno, Cornwall

2013-05-05T13:23:00.000+01:00

The first of ten A1 limited editions (No.6 of 10) of this dramatic image has just been sold to Jo Davies from Menai Bridge :-) It’s always gratifying when people purchase an image for the sheer beauty or power of an image, not just because they want a memory of place, and for Jo, this is certainly the case here.

This image look like clever trickery or montaging but it is a straight shot using a telephoto lens from sea level. I was crouched as low as I could get on a small sand cusp, which meant that although I was hit by every wave, it was shallower for me than the deeper water and bigger waves in front of and behind me. Fortunately being summer, and in the nude anyway, I was not worried about getting wet but the fear of the camera and I being sucked back out into the Atlantic was very real and very considered as the backwash down the steep beach was extremely powerful. One slip and £7K of camera was going to get fast rinsed.

Of course it’s not just the waves that make a great shot, it’s the light and the content. The intense early morning light was beautiful on my bare skin but was even more amazing as it back-lit the breaking waves in front of me, creating that iridescent jade translucency you see here. Scudding in the sky above were the most amazingly fresh and sculptural rain clouds, which compositionally balanced the choppy sea below. The dark foreboding towers of the Logan Rock in the background, square up against the incoming Atlantic ocean.

Shooting essentials for this exact pic!

People often ask me if I have favourite images, and whilst I like various images for assorted reasons, this image really does rank within my all time favourite ten I think.

There are 9 other Edition prints in this set, plus 10 x A2 prints and unlimited A3 and A4 prints (the last two sizes are available directly from my website here: http://bit.ly/15ju0fr ) whereas editions of this image must be ordered directly from me at the gallery on 01248 715511

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2013 - All Rights Reserved
Main website HERE - www.glyndavies.com

Landscape in a Van

2013-04-03T17:02:00.001+01:00

"A Window on Snowdon", Yr Wyddfa - Click image for purchase info

After days of stunning light and the most spectacular snow and ice cover on the North Wales hills, I was finally in a position to get outdoors and take pictures again. The last few weeks have been manically busy preparing for my latest annual exhibition and the launch of the Anglesey Arts Weeks, so my days off have been few and far between. Such is the life of a full time artist/gallery owner, where for me at least, there is no luxury of clocking off paid work, to indulge a hobby. I can't simply close the gallery to go out photographing as customers expect the gallery to be open during advertised hours.

"Pharaoh in a Horseshoe", Yr Wyddfa - Click image for purchase info

So how, I ask you, was it 2.30 pm when we finally set off for the hills then ! Loads of stupid little chores seemed to crop up on this day off including negotiating a Calor gas delivery from an over-stretched company, battling with rations during the coldest March on record. I couldn't reach for the big hills anyway, as Jan neither owns crampons, nor yet knows how to use them, and reports from the met office and mountain rescue teams seemed to suggest that ice coverage was substantial and dangerous. As Jan's a Senior Staff Nurse in ITU, and having to work a night shift, we had to be back by six anyway leaving little time to do anything. So we fired up the van heaters and headed for a short lakeside walk at Llyn Gwynant, over the Pen y Pass, and down along the Eastern slopes of Snowdon. Time was against us but the views were superb and I found myself just pulling over in the van to shoot frames from the window, and ironically enjoyed the deliberate restriction.

"From Warm to Cold", Llyn Gwynant & Moel Hebog - Click image for purchase info

I wondered what it would be like to be elderly or infirm, and unable to walk the hills any more. Would this be my limit? shooting from the car, travel blanket over my knees and a flask of hot coffee. Well being in the luxury of having my health (ish) I realised that I might at least find excitement, enjoyment and even wonder, through memories of what I could do, and that the landscape will continue to excite generations to come, long after every one of us reading this is dead and gone. Somehow, usage the long lens, there was a small sense of being at one with the landscape, of being up close and personal, and leaving the van window open to feel the chill wind just added to the fantasy. I feel now that access to the landscape, though not in the least as exciting as being IN the landscape, would still be far better than disconnection FROM the landscape altogether. So even if I were disabled, I'd HAVE to at least be able to see such spectacular places in spectacular light.

"A Warm Flow", Afon Glaslyn (OK not QUITE from the van!) - Click image for purchase info

This afternoon was disappearing rapidly, even with just a few 5-10 minute stops in lay-bys, and we ended up at Llyn Dinas where we did manage a brief half hour ramble alongside the sunlit Afon Glaslyn tumbling towards Beddgelert. In the sunshine it was warm and comforting, but turning back to the Southern end of the lake, the wind fetching across the vast stretch of water was noticeably Northern and bitterly cold. We JUST made it back for Jan to grab a bite to eat before an eventful 12 hour shift at Ysbyty Gwynedd. Somehow, even with so little achieved, the day remained beautiful and exciting, and that gives me great hopes for my own future, and my own old age.

Annual Exhibition 2013, Starts THIS Saturday

2013-03-20T17:58:00.001Z

Arddangosfa Flynyddol o Dirluniau Ffotograffig 2013

On March 23, 2013, 10.00 - 4.00, I will be opening my exhibition of new photographic landscapes of North Wales shot primarily over the last year. The show will contain various-sized open prints and limited editions, featuring Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Llŷn Peninsula.

Ar Fawrth 23, 2013, 10.00 - 4.00, byddaf yn agor f’arddangosfa o dirluniau ffotograffig newydd o Ogledd Cymru, y rhan fwyaf ohonynt wedi’u tynnu dros y flwyddyn ddiwethaf. Bydd yr arddangosfa’n cynnwys printiau argraffiad agored ac argraffiad cyfyngedig o wahanol feintiau, yn darlunio Eryri, Ynys Môn a Llŷn.

Contact Glyn Davies at the gallery on 01248 715511 for further information.

Huge PRE-Exhibition PRINT SALE

2013-03-09T13:20:00.000Z

ONE WEEK ONLY - Ends Sat. 16th March 2013

This was a very last minute thought, as I started preparing the gallery for the next show. I have too many A1 and A2 Edition prints in the upstairs print browsers, and I desperately need more space for new work.

For ONE WEEK ONLY (Finishing Saturday 16th March) I am offering a 50% discount off all existing mounted edition prints in the browsers. There will be NO posting of these prints, callers only, (Wed-Saturday) but I can keep them to one side for you until you visit next.

The price of each image will be determined by the edition number, so please ring 01248 715511, to ask about the exact sale price of the print you desire. I can still provide a framing option, but the framing is not discounted and there is a £20 (inc.VAT) additional framing charge, to cover the time spent framing these heavily discounted sale prints.

Here is the link to my HALF PRICE SALE of A1 Edition Prints (1 week only) - no prices, just images - ring for pricing on 01248 715511

http://www.flickr.com/photos/photoglyn/sets/72157632949405430

Here is the link to my HALF PRICE SALE of A2 Edition Prints (1 week only) - no prices, just images - ring for pricing on 01248 715511

http://www.flickr.com/photos/photoglyn/sets/72157632945282331

If you have any queries, please don't hesitate to call.

Best wishes,
Dymuniadau gorau,

Glyn Davies

God's Porch-light over Snowdonia

2013-03-05T15:23:00.000Z

Excitement Beyond The Dark Hills, Yr Eifl - Click pic for purchase info

Anglesey was under a blanket of heavy cloud but surprisingly, and thankfully, there was light on the hills, okay two of them, but light nevertheless. Stepping out of the warm van after parking at Rhosgadfan we were bathed in sunlight, but were also pierced by bitterly cold 25mph North Easterly winds. Base layers, mid layer, wind layer and shell jacket, hats & gloves were all required from the outset.

The Doorway Opened, Yr Eifl - Click pic for purchase info

As we rounded the slate quarries to the South West we were in the lee of the wind and the sunshine almost felt warm. Anglesey remained dark and the Carneddau mountains in the North were heavily clouded with no summits visible. The Nantlle Ridge on the other hand, was clear, sharp and defined with a bright sky above and beyond. Sunshine sparkled off the Irish Sea just to the right of the unmistakable Yr Eifl.

Surge of Excitement, Elidir Fawr - Click pic for purchase info

What are normally wet, boggy slopes leading down to the start of superbly rounded Mynydd Mawr, were firm and crunchy. The severe cold and surprisingly dry weather had meant much of the water on the hills was either frozen or had dropped into a low water table. It was refreshing to not have to worry about foot placement. The summit looked clear and close but as we started the ascent, clouds were already forming rapidly over the Irish Sea and the Llyn Peninsula, and the sun was now forming hundreds of rays of light which moved quickly, torch-lighting the landscape below. The weather was obviously going to remain unstable and unpredictable for our walk.

Bright Light Under the Darkness - Foel Goch - Click pic for purchase info

The North East wind was now ripping across the face and the two little figures ascending alongside the edge of the ominous dark cwm to the North, but the Rabs, North Faces & Paramos were brilliantly retaining warmth and shielding against the bitter cold. Sunlight was now in short supply. At the summit in the 25mph winds, according to Met Office figures, we were feeling -9º temperatures on any exposed skin, and within maybe one minute of removing my gloves to shoot some dramatic light over Foel Goch, my fingers became like dead talons, able to punch and point but hardly grip. I put my fingers in my mouth to warm them and the burning tingling sensation just didn’t go away. Everything else was shot WITH gloves!

Reaching Out, Snowdonia - Click pic for purchase info

The summits of Moel Eilio and Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) never made an appearance, but the light on their adjacent peaks such as Yr Aran, Foel Goch and Moel Cynghorion was fast changing and theatrical. Clouds built and evaporated rapidly, small vortices peeled over the ridges like ocean waves and as we sat there, sheltered on the lee sides of summit cairns, we were suddenly in cloud ourselves. Weirdly, the wind dropped at this moment and a sense of warmth returned as our views disappeared.

A Ridge Beauty, Nantlle Ridge - Click pic for purchase info

From that moment on we experienced a continual variation in cloud cover around us and consequently the most fabulous light performance I have witnessed in years. Multiple curtains of fog and cloud alternately revealed and obscured rich colourful skies and landscapes, bearing hues from different ends of the spectrum all in one moment. It was ‘son et la lumière’ sans le son! No matter how beautiful and mesmerizing the conditions were at the summit, we were both getting cold and it was approaching 5.15pm already.

An Opposite Attraction, Yr Aran, Snowdonia - Click pic for purchase info

As we descended I was forced to stop at regular moments to try and absorb the sheer beauty of what was happening about us, and just before 5.30 I spent maybe 10 minutes half way down the mountain, taking images of the strangest and most captivating sunset I’ve seen for years. It was as if a sunset was taking place somewhere else and we were just being treated to a view of it from a cathedral window. The burning red ball of flame on the horizon warmed my heart, but nothing else and the afternoon remained freezing.

Burning the Cold, Irish Sea - Click pic for purchase info

Camera away now, the after-burn of dusk darkened noticeably as we navigated towards the silhouetted quarries, and in this half light what I thought were obvious paths through the tips and levels were almost impossible to discern but literally at the point where my night vision failed, we were just 50 feet from the van and we trod carefully until the key fired the interior light.

Before a Dark Walk, Llyn Peninsula & the Irish Sea - Click pic for purchase info

NB. This was one of those days when the light just worked. People will swear that filters were used but they were not, this was simply the most amazing and spectacular show of natural light and colour, straight from heaven.

Something Moved in the Fairy Glen

2013-03-01T11:19:00.000Z

I'm not a big fan of popular locations with their indentations of tripod feet and footpaths of worn rock so I was surprised when I found myself clambering over rocks at the Fairy Glen near Betws y Coed. I'd been shopping in Cotswold Camping and as the weather was naff, and I just needed some air, the closest interesting location seemed the Glen.

"Something Moved in the Fairy Glen" Betws y Coed - Click image for purchase page

It was late afternoon, and the last of the sunshine was filtering through the naked winter trees, a deceptively cold warm orange. Nestling under the glowing canopy was a dark, blue green gorge, where not a drop of direct sunshine could reach. The rocks in the gorge were polished and slippery but the shapes really were rather beautiful and sculpted. The water was not still, and ran deep, dark and silently. There was no dramatic light, no beams of sunshine, no sounds, just silence in the empty canyon. Save for two small birds sitting quietly, high above me, watching as I worked, the place was deserted, thankfully.

Sure, the view up the main gorge was obviously impressive and there have been a million shots of morning light flooding down it's walls, but it looked decidedly dreary this afternoon and I therefore found the dusk light reflecting off the river behind me, far more intriguing. I was literally inches from the deep black water, balanced on very slippery rocks, and there was a constant fantasy of what it would feel like to slip into it's depths, and it heightened my connection with the place. If it were not so damned cold, I would have been tempted to immerse myself nude into the darkness, but not today! The place seemed forgotten, dead almost, but the patches of lush moss, the flowing river and the creature shapes of the rocks created a slightly surreal portal to otherworldly life.

Anglesey Tourism Brochure 2013

2013-02-21T14:26:00.000Z

I am delighted to say that Anglesey County Council have once again chosen one of my Anglesey landscape images for the wrap around front cover of their annual tourism marketing brochure.

The image they selected was "Sunset Connection" Llanddwyn Island

"Sunset Connection" Llanddwyn Beach, Anglesey - Click the pic to order

They also selected my image "Bitten by the Full Moon" of the Menai Bridge from Anglesey, as their DPS Contents Page.

"Bitten by the Full Moon" Menai Strait, Anglesey - Click the pic to order

My image "Bull Under a Hawthorn" was also used to illustrate a story within the brochure.

"Bull Under a Hawthorn" Anglesey - Click the pic to order

And finally, they published a complete feature page about me within the brochure :-) This years brochure is a radical move away from the usual tourist snap brochures, becoming instead a series of articles about people who's lives and work have been inspired by the island, to my mind a brilliant and intelligent step forward in tourism promotion. One of the ten featured profiles was an interview with me, and it reads well. Grab a copy yourselves and read all the profiles, see what you think about this new way of promoting a region.

Profile page in the 2013 Anglesey Brochure

These images can be bought direct from my WEBSITE

Please follow my latest work by 'liking' my Facebook page, many thanks:

I Never Shot Frosties

2013-01-12T12:29:00.000Z

Y Felinheli, nestled into the North side of a Welsh hill, tends to be a frost pocket at this time of year so although the early morning light looked amazing, it took nearly half and hour to get the van warmed up. I couldn't even get into the van at first and then the electric windows had frozen - I'd forgotten that I should not plan a fast getaway in a Felinheli winter.

I drove across the main road and found a sunny lay-by where I watched steam rising off the bonnet and windscreen until after about 10 minutes the windows finally could open and the mirrors clear. I drove off feeling positive in the morning sunshine. At first I considered heading for the frozen valleys but something inside me told me to head for the coast, the sea, and some sunshine - clearing my SAD was more important today than just shooting frosties. Emile Sandé's Clown was playing on the radio and the bright light in the van was warming me noticeably. The landscape as I headed towards Bryncir and Dolbenmaen was not as white as I'd assumed it would be, instead looking a lush green under the clear blue sky. The landscape rushed by as I found myself flying towards Porthmadog, before rattling across the Harlech road/rail bridge and into the stunning countryside near Harlech. The estuary was at half tide and sheets of mirror calm water reflected the sky perfectly, a blue Paisley textile of sand and air.

"A Smoky Castle" Harlech - Click image for purchase options

As I approached Harlech Castle I was surprised at the number of old fashion chimneys, with smoke billowing out of them - I thought all chimneys had been declared illegal in this smokeless age :-) The plumes never really went anywhere in this temperature inversion, so the hot smoke sort of spilled out laterally under the cold air above, creating almost a fog below the imposing structure of Harlech Castle above. It was almost like living history with the villagers' huts beneath the Royals lofty defences.

"Standing Out From the Crowd" Barmouth - Click image for purchase options

As the van climbed the hillside past Coleg Harlech I could see right out over the bay, and lines of small but perfect clean waves rolled towards the sandy shore. I was just enjoying the drive and the company of my own thoughts but the next thing I know I am sat in the warm sunshine at a café bench overlooking the Barmouth railway bridge, drinking hot tea and savouring a mouthful of hot buttered tea-cake. I did a long walk on the Panorama Trail alongside the Barmouth Estuary, mostly in streams and through slurry like pools of deep mud caused by recent heavy rain, but there was such a beautiful silence, only pierced by the shrill calls of woodland birds.

"A Light Movement" Barmouth - Click image for purchase options

Due to the time of year it was mostly in shade and remained cold but as I climbed back up the more Easterly hillside I found myself removing layers in the now warm sunshine and after the uphill exertion which my Christmas body had not considered ! The bare winter trees looked like kindling in the low light and I lit up at the sheer texture of the landscape. I sat in a woodland clearing and munched bacon & egg sandwiches and slurped hot tea. Things become clearer and clearer to me as I sat there and considered things, voices talking to me.

"Below The Burning Castle" Harlech - Click image for purchase options

The sunshine was getting lower already, it only seemed like an hour or so since leaving home, but it was nearly 3.30pm, an hour before sun down. I trekked up through old woodland and finally back down a lane to my van, and then blasted towards Harlech beach to catch the dying rays of a stunning sunset but by the time I'd crossed the wide dunes it had already said goodbye to the horizon it had kissed just moments before. I was left surrounded by beauty even now though, and I watched as the beauty moved before me, almost a slow dance in the cooling air. I sat in the dunes, in the darkness, revelling in the experience of just being. I crunched back along the pebbly beach in total darkness, almost unable to find the exit back to the car park, and the day was over, but not the promise of what life has to offer for many more days to come.

These images can be bought direct from my WEBSITE

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved

Please follow my latest work by 'liking' my Facebook page, many thanks:

Brighter Dreams on Boxing Day

2012-12-28T14:56:00.002Z

Sunshine Through Travel - Click the image to see pricing options

A disused bus sits in tree lined dead end. Early morning sunshine pours over the chemical works in the distance, and in through the bus windows. Just beyond the old bus, down a steep embankment, lies an industrial canal floats upon which equally disused canal barges float motionless.

Going Round the Bend (Anderton Boat Lift) - Click the image to see pricing options

This is from a small number of images I shot over Christmas & Boxing Day whilst staying in Northwich with my brother and his family. The relationship between nature and the area's huge chemical and rock salt industry, created surreal landscapes, reminiscent of Tarkowsky films. Combined with the dreary weather and my own melancholy state of mind due to personal circumstances, my resulting images are metaphorical: dark, sad, brooding but with delicate sheets of light, glimmers of hope and the reassurance that change is constant, inevitable and unsettling, but that within dark dreams there is sometimes enlightenment and heightened clarity.

These images can be bought direct from my WEBSITE

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved

Please follow my latest work by 'liking' my Facebook page, many thanks:

A Darker Christmas

2012-12-25T19:53:00.000Z

On The Surface Things Seemed OK

A walk in nature reclaimed industrial Northwich this Christmas Day. For major personal reasons, melancholy was swirling in my head, exaggerated by the tear-drops falling even through the dark woodland canopy we explored, my brother, nephew and I.

An Alternative Root

Amongst the tangled broken limbs of moss covered trees, lay deep, black boggy water and remnants of old industrial structures. The businesses had closed down, the people had moved on and the buildings were mostly demolished. Nature really had made a good job of covering the industrial wasteland and the plant life clinging to every branch and wall gave off a green glow of survival. In the windless silence of the copse, drips of water created tiny ripples of movement in the pools beneath. The saturated and decomposing wood debris and leaf litter, broke like Cheshire cheese underfoot.

There Was No Way Back In

There was such a silence, an occasional boy racer revving an engine in the distance and a huge balding tough guy restraining a Rottweiler as he walked past, "He's just excited" he assured, like a lion is before a good kill I presume. After pushing through wet and bedraggled spindling, we came across a lake, hidden from the main path. In the gloomy drizzle the lake provided a bright breather but standing at the edge of the lake looking in, it was black, impervious and edged with chemical froth. Nature has done an amazing job of bringing life back despite man made adversity.

Tears in the Flood

My life will be changing in 2013, it's already started. Life does go on, everything and everyone is in a constant mini evolution anyway, change is happening but big changes are either forced upon us or decided on through sheer determination, but change does bring new beginnings and new opportunities. Life as they say, really does go on. I'd like to thank my brother Simon, my sister in law Donna and my nephew Leven for bringing so much light to this Christmas.

My brother Si, left, nephew Lev and me in a silly hat

Merry Christmas ~ Nadolig Llawen

2012-12-21T17:50:00.000Z

"Hot Flow" Deiniolen, Snowdonia

Gan ddymuno

Nadolig Llawen Iawn

a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda

i bawb ohonoch

Wishing you all a

Very Merry Christmas

and a Happy New Year

A Peak Revealed, but just for a glimpse! Snowdonia

2012-11-13T18:31:00.003Z

Carol was totally tied up with degree study this Sunday and she really didn't need me around chatting to her so with some striking sunshine bouncing around outside, and the day being young, I just knew a mountain was calling me. Unusually, there was no procrastination that day, and for reasons unfathomed, I just wanted to go up Mynydd Mawr, a slog but easy underfoot, and a surface like a wide spread canvas.

As I broke sweat over the brow of Moel Tryfan, the huge breast of Mynydd Mawr revealed itself, but the nipple was hidden under a delicate cloth of low cloud and was being hidden from anyone wishing to enjoy it's peak. Instead, I became entranced by the light from a low sun, focussed laterally through broken cloud over the Llyn Peninsula. I hadn't noticed this much cloud when I'd blasted along the four crosses road, from where you can see the complete panorama of the Eryri hills, before dropping South towards the Britannia Bridge.

"A Mountain Flow", Mynydd Mawr - Click image for print options

The clouds were making a concerted effort to keep the summits covered and Snowdon was non existent, save for the rolling peaks of Foel Goch and Moel Cynghorion in the middle distance. The Nantlle ridge was a swirling mass of dragon's breath and all I could see of my Mynydd Mawr pillow, was it's fascinating historical skin of archaeological relics, dating back thousands of years.

The hills seemed deserted, and I sat in solitude, on the edge of a slate tip escarpment, in perfect bliss in the wintry midday sunshine. I opened my little aluminium flask to pour a warm coffee and as I did so, a swarm of tiny black flies appeared from nowhere and headed for the sweet heat. As I swooshed them away with my hand, I managed to accidentally throw my empty cup as well, and it bounced like ping-pong ball down the slate face into a long grassy hiding place, way down below me! I slurped the coffee direct from the flask and it was good!

"Spilled Coffee", Snowdonia - Click image for print options

I had already decided that simply heading for the summit just, 'because it's there', was utterly pointless, a shallow exercise in physical achievement. Far more stimulating was the teasing, gyrating light source, caressing and exposing sumptuous stretches of previously unseen surface, and each caress seem to reveal more and more of the body below. I spent perhaps an hour just sitting, watching, photographing and generally getting excited, when quite by surprise I realised the full mound of Mynydd Mawr was exposed and spotlit, a summit now seemingly touchable and beautiful. I made an impulsive decision to just go for it, to stand alone in the sun and revel in what the peak had to show in terms of views.

"It's Light Around the Corner", Snowdonia - Click image for print options

Amazingly, as I headed upwards, two little figures bore down upon me, and I received big smiles from a woman of 20, and possibly her daughter of 16 , who both looked fresh as daisies and who must have been sightless on the summit, as I bathed in sunlight. As I ascended, the sky became hazy, and a huge weather front moved in over the Irish Sea, pierced by two huge new white wind turbine abominations, at Dinas Dinlle, the first two of hundreds planned for this once unsurpassed vista of Anglesey. I had now reached cloud-base and clear vision became obscured. Occasional bright moments revealed the true beauty of wild spaces and nature, but after "Semi Skimmed" all the beauty disappeared and was replaced with viewless walls of thick vapour.

"Semi Skimmed", Mynydd Mawr - Click image for print options

I sat on the summit for maybe half an hour, waiting for God and visual inspiration, but there was no sign of either, and the biting wind was tiring, so I started a fast descent down slippery mud, gouged tracks from the mindless trial bike owners, and browning clumpy heather. When I returned to below cloud base, almost all traces of sunlight had in fact disappeared from the rest of the land too, and a breezy greyness was all that remained.

"A dreary summit", Mynydd Mawr

The hillside was saturated, little rivulets running through the heather and across the eroded tracks, but there was an eerie beauty, almost melancholic now, in the soft light over this ancient skin of the hill. As I explored the dull, colourless depths of Llyn y Ffynhonnau, a piercing last blast of very intense sunshine broke above me. I powered up the hillside into the light and took an ill-composed snap, just because the light was so beautiful. I didn't have time to consider any real foreground interest before the sun disappeared for good, behind a huge cloud over Garn For and Yr Eifl in the background.

"A Bright Snap", Snowdonia

As dusk descended around me, two 4x4 vehicles were testing their abilities on the lower mountainside. An ancient landscape indeed, but under the intense pressure of modern man and his ability to ruin thousands of years of beauty, even man-made beauty, in little more than a few decades, it is now clearer than ever, that I and others like me, are photographing tomorrows history. Views I have known here for 30+ years, relatively unchanged, have now been slashed by industrial monstrosities and off road maniacs.

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved

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"Close to My Dad" Dinas Dinlle - 1 of 5 A2s now sold

2012-11-10T15:18:00.001Z

Friend and existing customers June & Roy Draycott arrived in the gallery today, I though to have a pannad and a catch up but it was a bonus surprise when they said they wanted to buy a Limited Edition they had their eye on for a while :-)

"Close to My Dad" Dinas Dinlle, 2012

"Close to My Dad" Dinas Dinlle is one of my person favourites simply because if the meaning attached to it, the story 'behind' the image, and it was this background story which was so important to June, in memory of her own father.

I have already written about this image before, after I'd taken it, so rather than copying it, please use this link to read the real story

With or without the print purchase Roy & June, it's always nice to see you anyway and you know that the coffee and chat is always here for you :-)

Holyhead RNLI - Shoot 3

2012-11-09T18:19:00.001Z

My third shoot, yet again clear blue skies as I drive across Anglesey on the A55 towards Holyhead. A lazy Autumn atmosphere cocoons the crew and a small group of onlookers, as fags are finished and coffee slurped down. It was nice to know some of the guys on first name terms now, and as always, I'm warmly greeted and made to feel at home.

Heading Towards Winter, Nov 2012 © Glyn Davies

I had no idea what to wear, it seemed so warm, but I also know that at sea, the temperature always drops and in the wind by several degrees. So looking at the crew donning their full suits, I did the same, my yellow Musto Off-Shore gear finally getting it's workout. As we walked towards the marina and the Severn Class RNLB Christopher Pearce, I realised the group of onlookers were following and indeed I was told were joining us for the session, which proved to be a stumbling block for some of my planned shots, as amazingly, there is not a lot of deck space even on the Severn Class.

We were accompanied by Craig Steadman and a crew in the small RIB who seemed to enjoy cutting across our wake and powering up ahead of us but I found their manoeuvres provided some interesting addition subject matter in what was initially an uneventful sea surface. When the Severn Class is up to speed there is almost zero bow wave, unlike a fishing boat and it cuts such cleans lines through the water that the sea remains as if undisturbed either side. This may be very good news for other craft in difficulties or even for bathers on the shore, but photographically, it's hard to shoot much water based spray drama whilst on board. I await with trepidation, the chance to see if huge seas have any effect on that fact! The wake of course is huge, and I remain fascinated by the plumes of water being spewed from the twin 1250 hp engines.

Nose Into A Southerly, South Stack, Nov 2012 © Glyn Davies

As we neared North Stack, I became aware the the boat was pitching quite clearly and as I was photographing amidships, looking at the cliffs 90º to port, I was not concentrating on the sea state ahead of us. At once, I felt weightless and the boat was literally dropping away from under my feet into a huge trough railroading around the point. As I made contact with the deck again I was slammed, and my £6K+ of camera and lens missed cracking the side rails by mere cms! It was a real eye opener for me, and as the huge Southerly swell increased as we pushed out, we were pitching and rolling at the same time. It was a slightly queasy feeling I have to say but the coxswain was kind enough to go about and circle for me so that I could get another attempt at the North Stack composition I wanted. After a couple of minutes of this, a crew mate reported that several of the guests on board had been sick with several others feeling ill so the coxswain left the swell and headed off towards the Skerries Lighthouse instead, with the waves and with the tide, it was a smooth journey and everyone seemed to recover.

In the Lee, Skerries Lighthouse - © Glyn Davies Nov 2012

The Skerries were heaving with seals and seal pups, all quite bemused by the big orange giant which nudged inch by inch into the small covelet amongst the rocks. The sun was directly behind the lighthouse which meant that the contrast was sky high, literally, and with several people crammed into the flying bridge I couldn't get the one view I could see developing before me on the approach. I made a mental not to only do this project when the boat is not carrying guests next time.

What have I learned so far, apart from needing a clear working space ? The Holyhead RNLI team only work a specific patch, approximately from Porth Dafarch around towards the Skerries and Carmel Head, before other stations cut in. I am told that of course there are times when their bigger more powerful boat will be used for much further rescues when their skills and boat are the best option. The problem with morning exercises on the North / South Stack cliffs, is that they are almost always in shadow, so lacking detail and contrast and relief. These really need to be afternoon shots and even more probably, summer evenings - thing then is we get the light but not the sea. It's an awkward balance to be honest. I've learned never to take you eye off the ball (or your hands off the rail !). I've learned that even in bigger seas, the waves still look small from on board. I've learned that when it's blue on the island, there is usually a verity big grey blanket out at sea which makes the whole scene very hazy. I've learned that if the RNLB is too far from the cliffs, the wide angle REALLY isn't helping much. I've learned that in very pitchy seas, the 400mm stabiliser really doesn't have a brill effect. I've learned that shooting over the stern gets your lens covered in thick diesel spray and salt water within seconds, and that this is very awkward to clean even with Selvyt cloths, when aboard.

Spray and Wake from the twin diesel 1250 HP engines, Irish Sea

On the upside, I am blown away by how spectacular the cliffs are, and the folded geology is otherworldly! I've learned to see WHY South Stack is there, and how simply awesome and jagged those cliffs are. I know I need BIG waves and a big swell to get the photographic impact of seas slamming these huge cliffs, but I also know that I just maybe quite ill in those sea conditions in order to shoot big waves on cliffs. I have come to realise that lifeboat crew apart from a few exceptions, generally prefer NOT to have their portraits taken :-) I have been told I am not permitted to take pictures if I am on board during an actual shout, which leaves me feeling like a vampire in a room full of virgins and being told not to bite! I have learned that at sea there really is a wonderful connection between water surface and sky, which you just rarely get from the land. And finally, I have realised with a certain level of anxiety, that these latex images are finally starting to capture some of the mood in my seascapes that I've been hoping for, under the awareness that the winning ticket is big seas and bad weather ! :-(

A little Welsh Light at Coleg Harlech - Exhibition

2012-11-07T12:50:00.003Z

2012 Oct 24th - Nov 13th - Gallery Exhibition

"Welsh Light" - at Coleg Harlech's new Bistro Gallery, Harlech

Ten Limited Editions in the main corridor of Coleg Harlech College.

This was just over a two week exhibition to mark the opening of the new Bistro and Gallery at Coleg Harlech, surprisingly enough, in Harlech overlooking the beautiful Cardigan Bay. It's not a huge venue but the corridors were well spot-lit for ten of my Limited Editions, and the bright, airy, bistro area swallowed a further five of my huge A1 prints. Each of the 15 images appears in my latest 156 image book, "Welsh Light" so this show went by the same name, as a sample of the range of images of Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Llyn peninsula.

Lord Dafydd Ellis Thomas, me, and Albert Owen MP at the opening night © Mike Dean

The show was opened by two friends I've know for years, Albert Owen MP and sculptor and centre director, Trefor Fôn Owen. It was also a pleasure to meet Lord Dafydd Ellis Thomas who of course opened my Nant Gwrtheyrn exhibition at the Millennium Centre in Cardiff in 2009. All three purchased signed copies of Welsh Light on the night.

The main seating area of the Bistro / Café at Coleg Harlech / Theatre Harlech

Friends & Robin Hood

2012-10-31T20:26:00.001Z

Before he died, sadly way ahead of anything such a lovely man deserved, my good friend Gareth organised a charity auction at the Celtic Royal to raise money for the Alaw Ward of Ysbyty Gwynedd, where so many good people work to help those with cancer. The evening was superb, lively, loud, music rich with brown lemonade flowing freely - it was hard to believe that the busy guy organising it all on the night was indeed dying of cancer and only had a month or so to live. In the swirl of emotion, noise and throbbing sounds the auction proceeded smoothly and positively, and after my own donation of three A3 prints raised several hundred pounds, I found myself bidding for a weekend for two in Robin Hood's Bay, North Yorkshire. I was beaten by an anonymous lady and I was genuinely disappointed but in a turn of fate, the lady disappeared, and Gareth asked me as the second highest bidder if I still wanted the voucher :-)

"Light in the Hole", North Yorks Moors

It seemed a LONG journey to the North Yorkshire Moors and Whitby beyond. The SatNav estimated just over four hours but after a couple of stops, horrendous traffic near Leeds and a car crash at the Hole of Horcum it took us nearly 5.5 hours for this two night one day stay in the Yorkshire fishing cove. The car crash delay ahead of us meant we had time to spare and the light after heavy rain there on the moors was really gentle and beautiful, revealing a softer, more rounded landscape than here in North Wales. The bleakness was appealing and I really am drawn to visit moorland (any moorland) more often. I can see it being more awkward than mountains, as even though the human eye "sees" the moors, compositionally everything is happening in a narrow band of horizon. It will take a new way of shooting to try and epitomise the character of these surreal and empty landscapes. Great challenge though.

"Morning Sunset at Robin Hood's Bay"

Soon after the moors and we were upon Whitby, the imposing and huge derelict abbey dominating the skyline high above the town, but a hanger right and we were off up a steep hill towards the next stretch of coastline, Robin Hood's Bay. The landscape was quite open and rural, fields and trees rich, colourful and plentiful. We dropped down once again into a valley and the outskirts of Robin Hood's Bay and the road seemed to stop at a roundabout! I realised this was NOT the end of road for us, and we dropped almost literally down a 1:4 narrow lane between tall narrow buildings and into the heart of the old village. There was no view so to speak, just towering hillsides of old fishermen's cottages and endless cobbled pathways mousing in and out of the buildings, buildings which seemed more like very narrow wedge shaped blocks of cheese. The sense of history was potent. The character of the place seemed and looked old worldy. Cottages overlooked cottages, windows over looked windows and people over looked people. The fishermen have mostly long gone and have been replaced by the holiday trippers and holiday cottages. We heard form a local store owner that only 35 of the houses are actually inhabited by local people. This is characteristic of our time and we see the same sad story played out in Wales and Cornwall as well (and I admit I am part of the problem by actually hiring cottages for our own holidays).

"Cobbled by Robin Hood", Robin Hoods Bay

The very end of the lane ends at the sea, well a steep cobbled slipway to be precise, which looks identical to the old photographs in the book of the history of Robin Hoods Bay left in our superb and old fashioned looking cottage (totally in keeping with the personality of the village). The sea was rough the day we arrived and was sweeping over the cobbles towards the scruffy looking beach beyond the village walls. I was mesmerised by the waves of the North Sea, this coast seemed so unfamiliar even having been here before, many years ago. I can't get over the simple fact that the sun RISES over the sea and SETS over the land, the total opposite of the West Coast of Wales where I live. I looked to the horizon and imagined Europe just across this brown muddy looking stretch of sea. I watched numerous boats and ships sailing up and down the coast and I wondered which European harbours they were sailing from and into. It looked busy - like the village. It was blustery and cold and drearily dull weather yet hundreds of people were milling around, watching the waves, exploring the maze of lanes and pathways and popping in and out of the Dickensian looking tiny shops and pubs about us. Although busy, I somehow still felt isolated, almost lonely in the gathering dusk. We ate in the "Smugglers" bistro - fantastic, sumptuous food and wonderful ambience, candlelight and timbered walls. After supper Carol retreated home for a bath and relaxation whilst I went out for a short while to shooting some night scenes under the now full moon.

"Robin Hoods Night-time Meander", Robin Hoods Bay

The next day we went to Whitby, which was nothing like I remembered, a horrible dirty scruffy harbour-side, absolutely bulging with hundreds of fish and chip scoffing, DM wearing, arcade visiting, one arm bandit loving mobs of visitors. Four loud large men ponced around on Jetskis beyond the harbour walls, crowds of onlookers marvelling at how clever they were doing circles and things. The brackish and dark harbour water was covered in scum and the few nice yachts looked loss amongst the dull buildings and otherwise empty quaysides. That said, if one could see past the throngs of people there remained some genuinely pretty streets which through half-closed eyes and several pints of Theakstons, could almost hold fisherman and sailors instead of Goths, vampire lovers and chip lovers. The sole building that inspired me was the old Kipper Smokery which was closed, as was the Frank Meadow Sutcliffe Museum which holds prints of some of the most beautiful historical maritime photographs I've ever seen. As night drew close, the crowds eased, and in the street lights the wet cobbles and shiny whitewashed stone buildings here on the South side of the town actually took on a different persona, and the ghosts of the old town appeared and revealed true beauty.

"Robin Hood's Fencing by Moonlight", Robin Hoods Bay

Back to Robin Hoods Bay for a second, this time mirth-filled evening at the Smugglers - but the realisation that the weekend was almost over as soon as it had started. Thanks to my friend Gareth though, at least we did get a weekend in this fascinating cove though, and time together, which I will always remember with a truly fond heart, no matter what disappointment lay over the headland to the North. It was our place, and I loved it.

Carol outside our lovely cottage, Roma

Fresh Cornish

2012-10-10T00:20:00.000+01:00

The sequel to Cornish Cream :-)

"Light Beneath the Waves" - bigger version & prints HERE

As the rest of the UK citizens had to get the ferry from their front doors to work, and roads became rivers and fields became goose lakes, we were basking in bright sunshine and swimming in azure seas in South West Cornwall. Our friends back home couldn't believe we were even in the same country, (which of course many Cornish would argue we weren't :-)) Cornwall was Carol's decision, she refused to go back to the Canaries with me, saying she simply couldn't live without her Cornish fix - I desperately needed sunshine and feared that Cornwall would serve up mizzle on cold scones and damp pasties but someone on high was smiling on us that fortnight. Yes we had a day and a half of grey smudge but most other days I was baring all to the last of Summer. I can't thank Carol enough!

"The Cloud Maker" - bigger version & prints HERE

We hadn't stayed at Porthcurno before, sure visited a hundred times but never really got to know it closely. Here, off season, it was nothing like the crowded, bulging car park, bucket and spade hogged footpath, overflowing café, towel width separation zoned beach that haunted my memories. The tennis courts saw one game whilst were there; we never saw anyone enter the scruffy looking pub and the car park only trapped a handful of 4x4 tourists. The beach was regularly almost deserted, the one beautiful female life guard we saw looked almost asleep as there was no one swimming in the blue sea. The café recruited a few off season customers but the sound of bees humming in the lush hedgerows of the Cornish coastal footpath were louder than any kids playing on the beach. The only busy, predictable and noisy act, twice a day, was the the parade of 100s of cars winding their way up the snaking lane to the cliff top, just below which huddled the famous open-air Minack Theatre, which during our stay presented Gilbert and Sullivan's "Ruddigore", ambitiously attempted by a Cambridgeshire student theatre group. We did support the show one night, in my case aided by a bottle of Gordons. I will undoubtedly appear slightly jaded, having been to the Minack several times before, and having lost the wide-eyed wonder of seeing actors in front of an ocean backdrop, but the true beauty of this part of Cornwall is not the facilities, the services, the attractions or even the unique theatre, but the stunning white-sand coves, towering golden-granite cliffs, crystal clear sea and powerful Atlantic ocean swells. Spice this with abundant flora and fauna, bake in warm brilliant sunshine, and you have a magical, potent charm like no other.

"It Rose Dramatically" - bigger version & prints HERE

We spent many days doing short walks to isolated coves, but also did a superb walk all the way to Sennen Cove perhaps eight miles away, overlooking some of the most spectacular cliffs in Cornwall, including the famous Land's End, which serves up a wicked pint and gorgeous grub, in my all-time favourite "eatery with a view to die for"! This was one of the first visits here when we haven't jumped in the car every day, and that made it relaxing, but also so much more conducive to contemplative photography, where the journeys were less important than the absorption of the spirit of the landscape. It has really influenced my work this time, and will be an approach I adopt here in the future.

"Morning Shell Lines" - bigger version & prints HERE

Many of the images in this second Cornish set were shot within a mile of our base, across bracken covered cliffs, granite gravel paths and rocky descents to often nearly empty beaches. One beach however, my absolute favourite, is a naturist beach and this always serves a hardy band of loyal and long-time naturists whom we have become acquainted with. As a beach naturist myself, there is nothing more liberating than standing IN the Atlantic, bracing myself against powerful long distance waves, wearing nothing but my birthday suit, yet keeping a shooters balance and aim with my camera towards the rapidly unfolding compositions in front of me. This immersion with the elements really lets me 'see' the sea, understand the rhythms of the waves and be able to be literally connected to the waves exploding against the granite cliffs. It's not that you can't shoot these images with clothes on of course, but the privilege to be so in tune with a powerful ocean is too enticing to avoid.

"Pedny Work-wear"

In breaks between photographing, I swam nude in the sea, being lifted several feet by each successive large wave, and feeling literally, like flotsam on the ocean, tiny, powerless and vulnerable. The water was colder this time than previous summers, but after about three minutes of acclimatization, I was able to spend around 45 minutes being thrown around by exciting waves; swimming from one side of the cove to the other, and even diving off rocks at the cliff sides. It was exhilarating and liberating, and nothing else in the world mattered or could compare at that time.

"A Light Punch Before Darkness" - bigger version & prints HERE

There is something vast and humbling about the Atlantic here on the Cornish coast, that notion of the next stop being the Antarctic, unless you angled it just right to clip the Scillies or even the Azores ! When you stand on a Cornish cliff-top and just look out to sea, the horizon seems more like 270º than 180º and certainly so much wider than anything in North Wales, where you also know you will reach Ireland or a wind farm in just a few miles. Some Welsh friends of ours who met up with us in Cornwall, said the same thing exactly, unprompted, even as loyal Welsh folk :-) They could just witness the difference.

"Charles in an Atlantic Bath" - bigger version & prints HERE

On this huge horizon, a void for voyage, I became fascinated by the the lighthouses and maritime marks set just a few miles off-shore, Longships Light, Wolf Rock Light and even the Runnel Stone cardinal mark, which used to 'moo' like a cow when we used to camp at Treen cliff in times past, but now seems de-mooed. Between and beyond these impressive pieces of British maritime architecture, sailed huge container ships, tankers, trawlers, classic yachts and regularly, the Isles of Scilly ferry, the "Scillonian III". I enjoyed the delicacy of such huge structures, turned to dots by the sheer scale of the Atlantic horizon, and many of my recent images just explored that relationship, that interplay between God's bathtub and man's toys !

"Young Birds in St Ives" - bigger version & prints HERE

We did travel occasionally away from Porthcurno, and I actually revelled in the touristy busyness of St Ives, a place once dominated by fishing, tiny narrow cobbled streets, tall granite cottages, sail lofts, an historical harbour and numerous churches and chapels. Even off-season this town is packed but somehow it all feels OK here, it feels 'right' for St Ives, but that feeling of being on the ocean's edge is always there; maybe it's the dozens of fishing boats flopping about in the harbour; the blonde long-haired surfers running through the narrow streets in warm up for the surf at Porthmeor Beach; the waves slamming against the 19th Century, Smeaton's Pier; the lighthouse and stacks of lobster pots on the quay; the distant Godrevy Light flashing it's light over the bay of swells; the ancient looking Fisherman's Chapel; the kids playing on the harbour beach, the imposing granite life-boat house sporting a sleek, immaculate and highly polished Mersey Class, RNLB The Princess Royal, maybe it's just the sheer numbers of remaining fishermen's cottages, still obvious even though now holiday homes, cafés or galleries ? Even the galleries themselves are almost without exception, jam-packed with sea influenced art, and endless pastiches of the true fishermen painter, Alfred Wallis.

"Bird Between Pots"St Ives - bigger version & prints HERE

As usual, I tend to avoid the busy shops and spend time in micro solitude, peering over the pier into the green depths, hanging off the quay to hover above the lines of boats, exploring the outwash tunnels under the quay, sitting amongst the rocks just getting mesmerised by the waves whilst tourists chat obliviously somewhere behind me. Nevertheless, the proximity and abundance of pasty, fudge and coffee shops is a teasing reminder of mans goodies and a pleasurable time away from the water's edge.

"The Station on the Hill" - bigger version & prints HERE

I have come back once again enchanted by Cornwall, well Penwith at least, and as previously, am tossing around ideas about how to move, should I move and all the associated pros and cons about doing so, but I am also aware that as usual, Cornwall may forever be a place of escapism, a place to dream, a place to wonder, a place to feel different, a place of my childhood, but also a place even harder to make a living than North Wales ! Cornwall will always be in me, even if not always about me.

"A Moment For Mermaids" Zennor - bigger version & prints HERE

Cornish Cream

2012-09-22T18:19:00.001+01:00

I am very aware once again that I have neglected my blog, not because I don't care, but because much of my present work concerns a major project with a working title of "Under Wraps" and none of this will be released in any form until the book is published and the exhibition produced. This won't be for another year.

However, I am in Cornwall, shooting new images for another book, and so rather than go into a long monologue about my feelings for Cornwall this trip, I will keep it short and picture rich instead, and will follow this post up with another in a few days.

Like on Anglesey, there is so much I have shot already, which I just don't want to revisit endlessly, but my love of boats and things maritime HAS been re-ignited this trip and I desperately would love to do more sailing photography again. This is something I need to think about, but the sailing scene here is SO much more intense than home, and the range of beautiful classic boats is infinitely wider.

So here are a few shots from the first few days, and I hope you can discern my intrigue for these primarily minimalist seascapes ?


"Paradise Seeping Away" Porthcurno

"Long Ships Pass This Way" Chairladder

"On the horizon off Land's End in Cornwall, ships slowly make their way towards America. Here, a ship returns to British Waters, and Land's End is usually the first sight of the British Coast"

"Atlantic Punch" Chairladder

"The Schooner & The Wolf" Wolf Rock, Atlantic

"A large schooner heads out past Land's End in a heavy swell, which sends the bow of the yacht pitching and rearing over each wave. It had to be an uncomfortable if exhilarating sail, in brilliant sunshine and a strong breeze. There is something so majestic and timeless about seeing these historical looking craft navigating today's oceans"

"Return to Safety" Lands End

"Eve and her castle" St Mawes

"Not exactly a landscape sorry guys, but as beautiful to me - Eve, a pilot cutter, just off St Mawes Castle, Cornwall.

"This is a pilot cutter which although looks old, was actually only launched in 1997. These classic gaff rigged boats are an instant visual reminder of the beauty of maritime history, as much as the hardship. In the background squats King Henry VIII's St Mawes Castle (1540 AD) so we have layers of history in this shot"

San Miguel at Lands End

RNLI Open Day - First sight of "Light Clouds" South Stack

2012-09-03T20:03:00.000+01:00

As part of the Holyhead Traditional Sailing Festival, the Holyhead RNLI opened it's doors and lifeboats, to the general public.

As I am working on this ongoing project with Holyhead RNLI, for the next year or two, it was a chance to show some initial prints from the first two trips I have done aboard their lifeboats.

"Light Clouds" South Stack - Prints HERE

I decided to produce just 3 large format A1 prints from the project and a set of 15 smaller A4 prints - just as a taster. Although visitors to the lifeboat shed were disappointing and I'd say the event was less packed than two years ago, the visitors to my stand were VERY enthusiastic about these first images, which was quite a relief as to date, I haven't been on board in the type of conditions I really am hoping for.

One of the ex lifeboat crew was really blown away by one of my main images "Light Clouds" and said that even though he has seen 100s of images of the light, including several aerial shots he took himself, this was the best he'd seen so far :-) That's a huge compliment coming from someone SO familiar with this lighthouse and coastline.

Now I KNOW that it is still not the atmosphere or dynamic I need to satisfy my creative need yet, but the compliment is an essential confidence boost at this stage. This same image really did draw the visitors to my stand and many promised to come and see the images in my gallery in Menai Bridge.

"Wake No.1" off South Stack - Prints HERE

The other image which really surprised and engaged people was "Wake No.1" which was a very simple shot simply studying the similarities between wave and cloud patterns,and ultimately a study of pure and awesome power from the twin engines of the Trent Class lifeboat I was sitting above !

The final shot is a grab shot on the iPhone of my stand in the RNLI shed (along with Carol's Able Creations stand where she was selling (Very effectively I may add!) her beautiful illustrated poetry book, "Sea Things" (illustrated by my Dad, Gareth Davies)

It was really important for me that the RNLB crew I'd been aboard with, had a chance to see some sample prints from my first project shots - it proved to them that I wasn't just along for a jolly and that the images I am producing will create some genuinely positive interest in what they do and where they operate, which is all good for the RNLI in the long run.

Any prints sold from this project will create a donation to the RNLI.

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved
Gallery Facebook Page here: www.facebook.com/glynsgallery
Web: www.glyndavies.com
Twitter: @photoglyn

Killing Demons on Snowdon

2012-08-27T13:14:00.000+01:00

For many years, and for many reasons, mostly the sheer numbers of visitors, I have avoided Snowdon like the plague. However, there are two routes to the summit which I have walked/scrambled before as a youth, which have in the last two years or so, become nightmares for me. The first one, which I've already walked three times is the obvious one of Crib Goch, a precipitous and highly polished narrow ridge with huge open drops on either side, but the other is perhaps a very surprising one, the very popular Rhyd Ddu path! This little beauty starts off so magnificently, so openly, so broadly, but on nearing the summit, after a short step up a rocky crag, suddenly reveals a narrow ridge with sheer drops into the void on both sides.

"A Demon Lurked" on Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) 2012 - Click the pic for larger version

I think I was about 10 years old when I tried this route for the first and only time, with my Dad and my Uncle Dyfed. I had been happy as Llewelyn the Lamb up to that ridge, loving the day with my Dad and Uncle and feeling very grown up 'climbing Snowdon' but when that ridge suddenly sliced me between the eyes I turned to jelly. I just imagined falling to one side or the hoer and I froze. Eventually, my Dad went in front, VERY slowly, with me LITERALLY on my hands and knees with one hand permanently gripping my Dad's trouser belt, and my Uncle grabbing my jacket (for my security not his I hasten to add) and loads of anxious looking eyes burning into me from the walkers waiting for me to cross. I literally cried I was so scared. We went down another route!

So last week, finding myself at Rhyd Ddu, in very mixed weather, looking to take photographs of the area, I have no idea what possessed me to start up the Rhyd Ddu track once again ! After 10 minutes I just knew that regardless of photo opportunities, or the very low cloud base clutching the slopes of Yr Wyddfa, I was going to find that ridge and overcome it's terrifying demon. Several families were heading up in from of me, and several other young families were coming down towards me, all laughing and happy (if shattered looking) and generally there was a distantly separated procession of ant like humans scurrying up and down the mountain.

I reached around 2000ft and the cloud started swirling around me. The distant views down the Nantlle Valley and out beyond Llyn Cwellyn to Anglesey became hazier and hazier. The initial warmth of broken sunshine soon become chiller, but the sweat inducing ascent meant I stayed in my T-shirt most of the time. Two families had stopped for lunch and I could hear their chatter become fainter as I trudged higher into the cloud and limited visibility. Still, walkers appeared out of the cloud walking towards me, all wearing full rain wear and looking cold. Their presence however (for me as someone desperate for solitude in the hills), was welcome, as I didn't want to be alone with my demon, which was lying in wait somewhere up ahead in the gloom.

I sensed the drop opening up to my right, and there was a wetting chill now in the dark fog. I heard the clattering of walking poles somewhere up ahead of me, and then had to wait whilst 4 hikers negotiated an awkward step past me, and I could hear more chattering beyond. I ascended a rocky outcrop and there it was, my Demon, narrow, soaking wet, thick slippery mud across it's spine and a few wizened old walkers slipping their way along it's vertebrae towards me. They squeezed past me to negotiate the rocky step below me now, and they were gone, well just the clicking of poles against rock anyway, and they left me alone with it. I just stood there, ghosts of my Dad and Uncle walking between the two huge foggy voids. I can't believe I was suddenly alone, no one around but equally, this was the way it had to be. There was a genuine battle going on, not so much with the ridge itself, which seemed both wider and shorter than I remember, but with the association of fear I had been left with.

Since those early years I went on to become and extreme rock climber, climbing a few traditional E6s before family and career took over, and so I have climbed routes that would have killed me and overhangs to die for but this untethered, slippery mud demon still had me trapped by haunting fear. There was a difference this time though, even alone at this foggy precipice, and that difference was confidence, rationalisation, and sheer bloody-mindedness and armed therewith, I trod right on the extremity of the ridge to avoid the muddy pool, which I know was the Demon's trap, and within a few steps I was bang in the middle of what was my old nightmare. I knew my heart was racing but equally, surrounded above and below by swirling vapour, astride the Demon's back, I found myself grinning and elated, now delighted to be alone and the conqueror. I finished the crossing and looked back at what I had defeated, and it was no longer staring at me. I donned my waterproof jacket, took some iPhone snaps of my opponent and finished up to the freezing cold and wet summit of a chaotic and noisy monster of crowds, far worse than the ridge I'd become elated by.

"Dancing on Demons" on Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) 2012 - Click the pic for larger version

I returned the same way, this time taking some decent photographs on my main camera, and using the self timer, danced on the head of my former demon, which had now become 'just a ridge' and a natural and fantastic part of the mountain once more.

Next time, I will have the far more tricky Crib Goch to return to, and another Demon to vanquish, but the confidence I have just found, of putting a child's history into perspective, will help me no end with that next challenge :-)

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved
Gallery Facebook Page here: www.facebook.com/glynsgallery
Web: www.glyndavies.com
Twitter: @photoglyn

Glyn and Derek, repeating themselves at Nant Gwrtheyrn!

2012-08-23T17:54:00.000+01:00

On the summit of Garn Ganol after a very humid ascent !

In June 2010 I was involved with the Weatherman Walking series with Derek Brockway, as his mountain guide over the ancient and history rich hills of Tre'r Ceiri & Garn Ganol on the stunningly beautiful Llyn Peninsula. On Jan 3rd 2011 the programme was first broadcast, and was the initial program of six in the series looking at walks throughout Wales.

On Monday 27th August 2012, at 7.00 pm on BBC@ Wales, my programme will be repeated, to kick off the first of the repeated series. If you missed it first time round I genuinely think you will enjoy the programme, the walk and the fabulous location.

On the summit of Tre'r Ceiri, in thick hill fog

Derek was fantastic to work with, always cracking jokes, always smiling and with a sometimes very blue humour which certainly doesn't appear on the teatime weather forecast after the news ! ;-) After previous broadcasts, the feedback from viewers is that they picked up on the great wit that was keeping us smiling throughout the very inclement weather and saturated conditions :-) What do you think :-)

Enjoying some warm sleepy sunshine at the end of the walk !

The Horse & The Mermaid - go abroad

2012-08-23T12:25:00.000+01:00

"The Horse & The Mermaid" Anglesey 2011 - Click the image for purchase information

Can't say anything about who or where as this sale is a present for someone, but just to say that the first of this 3 edition A1 print, a moody winter image titled "The Horse and The Mermaid" Anglesey, will soon be somewhere very hot instead :-)

No.2 of this 3 edition A1 print is now available, HERE

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved
Gallery Facebook Page here: www.facebook.com/glynsgallery
Web: www.glyndavies.com
Twitter: @photoglyn

Towards the Edge of the Earth - & Manchester

2012-08-23T10:18:00.000+01:00

"Towards the Edge of the Earth" Rhoscolyn, 2006 - Click image for purchase details

The first of a slightly older (2006) Limited Edition of 20, A1 print, of "Towards the Edge of the Earth" (Rhoscolyn) was purchased today by Kimberley Royle from Manchester.

Description from my first book, Anglesey Landscapes, (2007) in which the image first appeared

"One of those bright, intense, warm yet strangely silent days. I was enjoying looking at the fantastic blocky, structural rocks around this coastline at Rhoscolyn. I loved the way they punctured and jutted into the glistening calm sea, sculptures with their own backdrop. A small gaff rigged vessel appeared out of nowhere and blew gently into the centre of the frame. Soon it was a blip and then no more as it disappeared out onto the horizon. It was the first time I’d ever really thought about the ancient idea of the earth having a vertical drop off and I knew why they might have thought it. The black and white adds to the surrealism."

Update to the description - the boat is a "Myth" no pun intended ! :-)
Click HERE for details

Copyright © Glyn Davies 2012 - All Rights Reserved
Gallery Facebook Page here: www.facebook.com/glynsgallery
Web: www.glyndavies.com
Twitter: @photoglyn