stride

On Saturday, I took a wonderfully exhausting, three-hour trek around Alajärvi. I finally made it to the lakeside church - designed by Carl Ludvig Engel, built in 1836. The attached cemetery is staid, serene, sheltered by pines. I am left to imagine what this perfect view of the lake must look like in summer, as everything is still frozen under 20 cm of white. It's a pity the walk to get to the cemetery is an hour in the snow, or I would have visited much sooner.

Scenes around Alajärvi church

Near the church is the town hall and library, both designed by Alvar Aalto. Having visited his buildings in Seinäjoki, I can easily identify his signature geometry and stark contrasts. I strolled down the side streets of the city center; it being Saturday past two in the afternoon, almost everything was closed. I counted this as a reconnaissance mission and made my way to the bigger grocery stores that remain open until six. Supplies in hand, I started walking home. The strain of my backpack and the two miles that still lay ahead of me made the going slow. These are the times you learn the meaning of sisu. As always, I rewarded my perseverance with a cup of cocoa when I got home.

The corner of Alvar Aalto road and church road

Monday saw my last Finnish language class. I now have an arsenal of vocabulary, but still very little understanding of how to piece it together into coherent sentences. I look forward to expanding my study when I get home. Also on Monday, I finally managed to find and visit the second-hand shop in the city center. I found a few souvenirs, two dresses and managed to communicate about half of my interaction with the shopkeeper in Finnish.

Evidence of the stride-hitting

Now, as I turn the corner into my final week in Alajärvi, I feel like I am finally hitting my stride. My work has developed, new themes emerged, and I have even been rehearsing what I will say when people ask me about my drawings. Probably a good sign that I want to talk through it more than I want to keep quiet about it, a tendency that may have held me back in the past. It's always an exciting time when I find my groove - and in these final days, I have been making an effort not to waste a moment. For the first time in a long time, I think my artist future looks more promising than bleak.

in brief

Despite ample free time, I am only motivated to distill my experiences towards the end of the week. While things have been happening, I don't have much to say. Last Saturday, I attended a Chinese calligraphy workshop at the museum. The weather was stunning. From my fellow attendees, I also learned the Finnish names of each animal in the Chinese zodiac [those I did not already know]. I was reminded how poor my calligraphic skills are, but it was a relaxing afternoon. We all shared biscuits and tea between lessons on the origins of various character forms.

Saturday

Chinese calligraphy workshop

At five o'clock, I caught a lift into town where the local team JPK took on S-Kiekko. The ice rink was cold, but the action was good. JPK found their legs in the third and surged to a 5-3 victory. It being Saturday, all the shops were closed by six. Once the match was over, I had just missed the chance to go shopping, and trudged home through almost blistering cold for close to an hour. The nights here are beautiful and still, and my route is a pleasant tour through quiet neighborhoods and past views of distant lights. Even in sub-zero, as long as you keep moving, eventually the numbness goes away.

JPK takes on S-Kiekko

Victory for JPK!

Monday's Finnish class was great; we learned various winter sports and how to form questions. Each week, I feel that I begin to comprehend a new concept just as the lesson ends, which is a strong motivator for independent study.

As the snow as been dripping from my roof, ice has been collecting into some pretty radical formations over the balcony just outside my bedroom window. The light breezes here have twisted them into a row of glittering, crisscrossed teeth. They catch the light at sunrise and sunset, and it is impossible to capture the effect on camera.

Icicles blown in different directions

I was finally able to see the aurora the other night, and snapped a memento over eight seconds. Over the past few nights I have kept vigilant, but despite high solar activity, I haven't see another show yet.

Peak of activity, Feb 16 around 22:00

Today I officially have fewer than two weeks left here. I have planned a few days in Helsinki and Oslo before returning home. Until then, I will carry on working on my emerging theme. The piece pictured below are two of a possible three or four; I still have almost a complete roll of paper left, so the next few days will be busy.

productivity

Things have been quiet for a few days, and I have been making work rapidly. On Sunday I visited Seinäjoki with Huan Ya, who is doing work at the Nelimarkka Museo until April. We had Chinese food to ring in the new year, then visited a few shops and buildings designed by the architect Alvar Aalto. Aalto's work is a point of pride for the residents of Alajärvi; he designed the town hall and library here. His library in Seinäjoki is very impressive. There is a café, reading rooms, a fantastic children's section, soft cushions everywhere and a great lower level full of quiet nooks.

Inside Seinäjoki library

We also stopped by the Lakeuden Risti Lutheran church, where a christening was taking place. I had a quiet look around before we left the city center. Seinäjoki also has a few art supply shops, but like most specialty places, they are closed on Sundays. I did a little food shopping at Prisma, a giant warehouse where you can find everything from skis and hockey sticks to groceries and refrigerators. On the way home, I had a lovely chat with Huan Ya and her family about languages and Finnish culture. My new word for the day was jäätelö.

Lakeuden Risti church exterior / interior

Monday night's Finnish class was a challenge; it is often hard to follow the instruction, as everyone is at different levels and I do not have the basics down. We went over the partitive case, which involves changing the endings of nouns and their corresponding adjectives, a process I did not fully grasp until the end of the lesson. Our teacher is very good, and her use of visual aids helps a lot with vocabulary retention. I also got information about an upcoming local high school hockey game, which I plan to attend tomorrow after a workshop at the museum.

More scenes around Seinäjoki: sushi and Chinese, Alvar Aalto's architecture and a Swedish Ferrari

Artistic pursuits this week have been a little regressive. I have gone from large, complex drawings back to small sketches of single hands and feet; I suppose there is not much depth to these studies, but I am enjoying the process. I also worry that my subjects are off-theme, but as long as I keep producing work, at least I will have quantity.

Various pieces from the past week

Yesterday I went for a walk in the woods. The weather has been warm, and the snow melted away almost to nothing, so the forest was more green than white. The roads were icy for a few days, and by icy I mean there was about 4 cm of ice on every driving surface. Then the ice turned to slush, which was interesting to bike through, and finally it had just about disappeared. But this morning, I woke up to for inches of fresh, powdery snow that has been building up all day. The flakes are light and fluffy, and I only wish I could take a photo or video that captures some of the beauty of the snowfall amongst the pine trees. Maybe it's a good thing that you have to be here to truly experience it.

Scenes around the Pekkola region of Alajärvi as the snow melts

There is a new exhibition coming to the Nelimarkka Museo in a couple weeks; unfortunately I will be leaving shortly after the opening, but until then I will continue to make the most of the time here. I am beginning to make additional travel plans, so the usual anxieties about traveling alone are returning. For now I am nourishing myself with long walk, hot tea and lots of scones.

outings

On Saturday, my fellow resident artist, Anja, invited me to visit the sauna on Kaartusjärvi [järvi is lake in Finnish]. It was about 30 minutes along mostly empty main roads, then icy back roads to the lake's edge. It was a warm day, about -1ºC/30ºF, and the lake water was about the same.

We entered the sauna, and were instantly covered in sweat. There is no warning for the unrelenting fog of heat that hits you right in the face. It is true that sauna is the place where Finns socialize. Everyone was chatty and quick to laugh; cross-cultural camaraderie happens fast in the intense environment. Once I was accustomed to the temperature on the lowest bench, I hopped up to the top tier where it gets hottest. A seasoned sauna-goer ladled water onto the rocks, the steam rose and assaulted us. This sort of heat causes all sorts of reflex actions; your eyes close to protect themselves, your heart-rate increases and makes you want to breathe heavily, but this is impossible because the air is so thick. Every time the steam rises, it is like a wave, which crests with a heat that would peel skin if it were not so humid. I did not get a perfect read on the thermometer, but I believe it was between 80ºC and 85ºC.

Kaartusjärvi pier around 16:30

After twenty minutes or so, thoroughly exhausted, we ran outside and down to the lake. There was a hole cut in the ice, and ladders descending from a little pier. At this point, adrenaline helps. I jumped in, submerged to the neck, and treaded water for a few seconds. The extreme change in temperature has a regulating effect, and even after one round of hot and cold, you can feel your muscles release tensions you didn't know they had. Another two rounds of sauna and icy water, and we were ready to head home.

Sunday was uneventful, but Monday I was to have my first Finnish language lesson at Alajärven Lukio, the senior high school. I did a little food shopping first, then met the other students and our teacher Johanna. The instruction is only in Finnish [and gestures], which is a good challenge. Luckily, our lesson was structured around time, and I do know the numbers 1-100, so I had a leg up. The walk home is about 25 minutes, well lit for most of the way. I passed the outdoor ice rink at the school, and listened for a moment as a group of five skaters took shots and bodychecked one another into the boards. It was like chicken soup for my soul.

Terrible photo of the Alajärven Lukio ice rink, not that you can tell

On Tuesday, a group of us went from the museum to the studio of policeman and outsider artist Tapio Autio. The Altejee-Autio is in the woods by Lappajärvi, high on a hill, and it is like something from a fairytale. There are many buildings and entryways, piled stones and carvings, statues of angels and a tower that stands 16 meters tall overlooking everything. Among the structures is a hunter's cabin full of wood carvings, a room with a steepled roof and stone walls covered with images from the Kalevala, and more dark rooms with wall paintings of biblical stories. There is also a church full of more rock paintings, and apparently more than 50 couples have tied the knot there. Tapio Autio is a religious man, speaks little English, and occasionally performs as a shaman, complete with staff and bear skins over his shoulders. While Tapio's style is not for everyone, I have to admire his 20+ years of dedication to building this place, half primitive commune, half microcosm of clashing spiritual beliefs - worth the trip.

After the blocked entrance, we walked up the hill through gentle snow

One of Tapio Autio's concrete angels

For those interested, here is a link to many more photos on Tapio Autio's website: Ateljee Autio

16 meter observation tower, unfortunately closed on the day

The past few days have been quiet again. Snow falls steadily and often, but not in huge amounts. The warmer weather has been good for walking with minimal layers, even at night, when the sky is a deep red-grey. I am happy with my work, which has been moving steadily now that the cobwebs have been brushed away. Today we bade farewell to Anja, who is leaving early tomorrow to return to Berlin. As for me, tomorrow I will be welcoming a troupe of photographers who wish to see the Villa Nelimarkka in the morning, then I plan to visit the second-hand shop Adeliina for the first time. According to reports, this is basically a garage-sized place full of incredible finds at outrageously low prices. More to follow.

Details from my current large and inexplicably colorful drawing

trees

My work here is meant to be about isolation - the setting is ideal for that, perfect for allowing ideas to germinate in seclusion. Of course, once the dust begins to settle, the loneliness is difficult to ignore. No matter how much music I play, no matter how many cups of tea I drink in big chairs looking out on the snowy forest, eventually everybody needs to get out.

The current population of my sketchbook

I have been fortunate in my contacts here, who have generously helped me in arranging a few outings in the coming days - a visit to the sauna, a Finnish language lesson, and a trip to visit outsider artist Tapio Autio - more on these adventures next week. It does help to plan things out; it staves off the feeling that when left utterly alone, we [or perhaps just I] automatically devolve into uncivilization.

Maybe it has just been a slow few days, artistically. One of my favorite films is A Midwinter's Tale, in which Julia Sawalha's character discusses the role of making art in life; she calls it nourishing your soul. Simple though it sounds, this is an idea that resonated with me instantly. Maybe I need to change perspective, get in a new head space, try a therapeutic approach to banishing creative stagnation - so I am just going to force myself to draw, no matter how terrible or off-theme the result.

Beginning to draw something like trees [feet for scale]

I stepped away from purely figurative work to sketch the trees. The Scots pines and birches that make up southern Ostrobothnian forests are slender, almost ghostly, and incredibly tall. The trunks are dark brown at the base, turning orange midway up. I do not know whether light, weather or something else effects this phenomenon. It is a distinctive look, especially when the weather blankets everything else in white. Walking back from the Nelimarkka-Museo yesterday, I took a few reference photos and proceeded to go outside my comfort zone.

Yellow gouache had a nice effect at the base of the trunks

Since a few of these studies have been fun [and different], I have put some thought into incorporating trees into my body of work here. While my intent was not originally location specific, I do not want to leave here in a month with no reference to contextualize my work. Sometimes I feel like I will never escape cliché, even now I am struggling to reconcile this subject matter - the forest is a pretty trite metaphor for psychological conflict and its outward manifestations - but luckily no one is around to watch me mime vomiting.

Time will tell what will come of these new territories. Next week looks like an upturn for mental health, and until then I'll see what I can mine from the solitude.

Blending ideas...

adventures inside

The past few days have been significantly warmer, peaking at 27º F. The heating malfunctioned sometime on Friday, but equipped with a space heater and fingerless gloves, I endured. Culinary adventures included macaroni and cheese, sans recipe and substituting penne for elbow macaroni, which seems to be absent from Alajärvi supermarkets. My attempt at béchamel was risky, as I only had whole wheat baking flour on hand. But the overall result, including a topping of stale Swedish rye breadcrumbs [hand-shredded in lieu of any sort of automated kitchen appliance] and aged cheddar, was a satisfactory venture into starving artist comfort food.

It ain't pretty, but it tastes okay

I spent most of the chilly weekend holed up with brown paper and an assortment of chalk and pencils, with occasional trips to the kitchen for tea and reheated penne n' cheese. The difference is nearly imperceptible, but I believe the daylight is lasting slightly longer than the days of my first week here. My sketches and smaller drawings and taking priority over large-scale work, and I am gradually letting go of my compulsion to work big - not that I don't still enjoy covering whole walls in paper, but being here alone means I make my own rules.

Small ink piece

On Sunday, my e-mails were finally answered, and the heating was fixed. It was once again warm enough to spend time in the kitchen without getting numb toes [which did happen earlier, even in wool socks], so I chopped veggies for leek and potato soup. Again, having no blender, I relied on my own ingenuity [which is what I call looking up an alternate method online] to mash up a hearty soup with a fork and strainer.

More Suomi comfort food! Butter, leeks and potatoes are hard to screw up

I ate dinner in the little lounge by the kitchen; I don't go in there much, but the Panasonic air inverter provides additional electric heat, and it stays toasty. I sketched and savored my starchy masterpiece while the rest of the house gradually warmed back up.

Fun with brown paper and chalk

Tomorrow, I plan on another venture into town for additional groceries and a little exploration. The are rabbit and deer tracks in the yard, often fresh ones in the daily deepening blanket of snow. No bears yet. For the past few nights, the clouds have been dense and reddish with subarctic light. No aurora sighted yet.

Morning view from my window

bike

On Tuesday I built myself up mentally to go shopping. 4 km [each way] by bicycle is not very daunting when the whole route is flat as a pancake. Fifteen centimeters of snow changes that. So does -25º C/-13º F temperatures. I unlocked my bike, assuming that as long as I kept moving, I would generate enough heat to evade frostbite. I listened to the sensible part of my brain and checked my front tire. Could use a little air. I retrieved the pump, removed my gloves for dexterity, and fiddled with the valve for a bit. I succeeded in draining the entire tire before I finally figured out how to pump the air in. At this point I had also lost feeling in my fingers, so I reached for my gloves to discover they had frozen stiff. After sitting in the bicycle basket for five minutes.

I decided I was not going to the shops and wheeled the bike inside. I took an hour or so to raise my core temperature and warm up my cold-burned extremities. I resolved not to waste my mental efforts to get out of the house, and gathered my laundry. It is only 400 meters to the Nelimarkka-Museo, but even inside layers of wool and 100% traceable duck down, my eyes and nose had dribbled out most of the moisture in my head by the time I made it over there. Once I had said hello to the modest museum staff, I loaded the cryptic washing machine and selected the "normal" cycle. This was supposed to take roughly one hour.

DIE WEIßE HÖLLE VON ...Alajärvi

I went upstairs to the kahvila [cafe] to sketch for a while. A group of workmen [doing something in the museum basement] came in, partook of copious amounts of coffee, and spoke in trills and booms about what my limited comprehension of Finnish identified as mostly numbers. I ended up running the machine cycle twice by accident, and so it was after sundown when my laundry was finally clean. Luckily I came away with some decent sketches.

Happiest with this one of Tuesday's sketches

On Wednesday it was snowing, but the temperature was dancing just above 0º fahrenheit by midday. No way I was letting the weather conquer me this time. With my bike inflated and a belly full of feta and basil omelette, I headed out. A hundred meters down the road, my muscles reminded me that I do not ride a bike regularly. I skidded twice, nearly went into a ditch, dismounted and resigned to my fate. I was too far from home to bring the bike back, and I might need the basket for extra cargo. I pushed the beast the remaining four kilometers along the bicycle and pedestrian paths, for which I was grateful given the traffic, and that the snow was becoming blinding. I tried to ride a few more times, but the 15 centimeters already on the ground was building fast and made it impossible.

Near the junction of the main road and Vanhatie, which leads to Pekkolantie, where I live

At last I saw the big sign for Alajärvi liikekeskus [business center], including the blessed S-Market. I crossed the busy road, found a place to lock my bike, shook the snow from my crevices and clutched my shopping list. Conscious of the waning daylight, I spent a tight twenty minutes gathering supplies. A few staples, lots of spies, a bunch of candy, and two samples of Finnish beer barely fit in my backpack. It was moderately embarrassing to pack it all up as others rushed past. Necessity took over, and I did not bother with self-pity as I headed back out into the white. The walk back was uneventful and exhausting.

My Bruins won last night, so of course I had to get Karhu

Now I am back inside, sipping tea and sampling candy. My art is coming along, and now that my cupboards are less bare, I will be devoting more time to my real reason for being here. For those interested in my candy selections, I recommend the Fazer blue for chocolate lovers, the Pantteri mix for fruit gum devotees, and the Sisu for people who like black licorice and ammonium chloride with sysi [charcoal] flavor. Decadent.

Arranged my candy on the heart duvet because candy warms my heart