There’s a particular kind of stillness that belongs to the upper dale, the kind that invites you to slow down, look closer, and notice the small, extraordinary details of the world around you. At the Swaledale Festival workshop in Keld Heritage Centre, that stillness became the starting point for a day of creative exploration led by North East artist and designer Steve Pardue.
Inside the light filled room, tables were scattered with sketchbooks, pens, brushes, and folded paper. Participants leaned in, absorbed in the gentle rhythm of drawing and writing. A dandelion held between careful fingers became a study in line and form, its bright yellow petals translated into ink with quiet concentration. Around the room, laughter and conversation mingled with the scratch of pens, each person discovering their own way of seeing.
Steve’s approach to art journalling is rooted in observation, not just of nature, but of the experience of being present within it. He unfolded his own illustrated concertina book, a vivid tapestry of birds, flowers, and flowing watercolour landscapes. It wasn’t simply a record of what he’d seen, but a reflection of how those moments felt — the curve of a stem, the movement of air, the texture of memory. His work encouraged everyone to think beyond technique, to let curiosity and emotion guide the page.
Later, the group stepped outside into the sunlit grass behind the centre. Kneeling among buttercups and dandelions, they looked closely at the shapes and colours that often go unnoticed. The act of drawing became a kind of meditation, a way of connecting with the land and with each other. Back indoors, the pages began to fill with sketches, notes, and washes of colour — fragments of the dale captured in ink and watercolour.
By the end of the session, each participant held something unique, a small, personal record of the day’s discoveries. Some pages were filled with delicate botanical studies, others with expressive marks and handwritten reflections. Together, they formed a collective portrait of Keld’s landscape, seen through many eyes and many hands.
Art journalling, as Steve reminded everyone, isn’t about perfection. It’s about noticing, responding, and allowing the page to become a space for thought and feeling. In that quiet corner of Swaledale, surrounded by hills and wildflowers, the workshop offered exactly that — a chance to pause, observe, and create something that felt deeply connected to place.