Playing the harp is something that in the back of my mind I always longed to do. I remember when I was seven or eight years old listening to a woman play the harp and then afterwards touching it and plucking a few strings myself. I’m not even certain that it is a real memory – perhaps I dreamt it – but either way it stuck with me. I remember asking my parents if I could learn to play the harp and being told that it is the most expensive and impractical hobby imaginable – so I let that thought stay only in my dreams and imagination. Then a couple of years ago I found a cheap Celtic harp secondhand and was absolutely overjoyed to have the opportunity to learn to play. It is wonderfully relaxing, almost meditative. I love to close my eyes, rest the side of my head gently against the backboard (where the sound comes out) and play simple tunes and arpeggios, letting the sound vibrate through me, fill my mind and wash over me. It will never get dull – there is always a new tune to learn. Perhaps one day I’ll be good at it…! The woman in this painting does not look at all like me and nor does the painting capture the feeling of playing the harp, but that is a feeling that cannot easily be captured even with colour.
Oil on wooden board, framed and ready to hang.