"First snow in Mörbylånga" – Angelika Ann Kammerer

„One Year – One Island“ – week 6

It was that time again… a day to paint. It has become cold here on Öland, and the first frosty nights have already arrived, so I put on several layers so that I wouldn’t get cold. Two weeks ago I bought thermal gloves and matching mittens in Germany to prepare myself. Scarf, long underwear, thick lined boots – I set off with this equipment. Our island is 137 km long and therefore has different weather limits. Sometimes it rains in Löttorp – which is only 8 kilometers away from us – and we don’t get a drop of rain here. The temperature in the south of the island can differ by several degrees from the temperature in the north of the island. It also happens that there is a storm in the south and there is only a little wind here. That’s why I always look at the weather forecast for the part of Öland where I want to paint.

On Saturday, November 23rd, sunshine and 2°C were forecast for Mörbylånga, good weather for painting. After an hour’s drive, around Glömminge, there were remnants of snow on the side of the road and when I drove through Resmo a short time later, the fields were white. Shortly afterwards, I turned towards Mörbylånga and headed straight for the church. There was a suitable parking space there and I unloaded my bike. With my painting gear in the bike basket and a wool blanket on the luggage rack, I cycled into the town. There were a few walkers out and about and an older woman with walking sticks called out to me „Be carefully!“ – which I did. I haven’t cycled on snow very often either. I took a look here and there, but I didn’t find an interesting subject neither a good spot to sit without beeing in the way. Maybe at the harbor? No, I didn’t really feel like that. I decided to cycle back to the church, the road in the opposite direction there had looked inviting. This is an older part of Mörbylånga, which is called Kyrkby (“church village”). There, south of the church, I found a motif to my taste: I like it when buildings look old and weathered. I also like the typical Öland limestone buildings, the plaster often crumbles – as is the case here. I particularly liked the fact that there was a bright orange pumpkin on the small wall – a real eye-catcher for my motif in the snow.

I thought about how the sun would move and thus illuminate the building in the coming hours – at the moment the building was in the shade. I positioned myself on the opposite side of the street so that I had a good view, sat in the sun and the row of mailboxes offered me a little protection from the wind. This way I was not disturbed by the (few) cars that drove past. I struggled a bit with the stability of my three-legged hiking chair, on which I had placed a wedge cushion to sit a little warmer from below. For an hour or so, the cold is no problem, but if you sit around motionless for three or four hours, it becomes uncomfortable. But the sun was warm. Every now and then, local residents came by and most of them spoke to me in a friendly manner, wanting to take a look at the drawing. ”Of course, a pleasure.” After I had finished the preliminary drawing, I had breakfast: hot chai tea and cheese bread.

The biggest difference between painting at a desk and painting outdoors is the organization of the equipment: I have to hold the paint box in my left hand, because I use my right to hold the brush. The water bowl is somewhere to the left of my feet, but it is annoying to keep bending down to wet the brush or to wash it out when changing colors. Unfortunately, the lid of the mailbox (which hung to my left) was slanted, so I couldn’t put anything down there. I balance a blotting cloth (either kitchen roll or an old kitchen towel) on my knees, under the drawing pad. If you then sit on a tripod on the edge of the path, it’s all very unstable. I’m still thinking of another solution: a small side table would be great. But how much can I transport on a bike like that? I’m also not going to use a camping chair, which would be much more comfortable, but too big for the bike. I’ll think of something. Anyway, it happened a few times that the chair tipped backwards when I was wetting the brush. Instinctively I stood up but the block slipped from my knees into the snow… a bit like slapstick until I picked everything up again.

Behind me, someone had already been watching from the window to see what I was doing. A small hedge that separated the front garden prevented the person from seeing what I was doing behind my back. Finally, curiosity got the better of me and the neighbor came out. I showed her what I was doing here, told her about my project and that I lived in Böda. „Böda?“ she asked, somewhat incredulous. She wanted to know whether I had come here from Böda. And whether I had lived there for a long time? Yes, 16 years now. Do I know Mellböda? Yes, of course, I live in Mellböda. I introduced myself and her name was IngaLisa. Oh, she said, quite surprised, did I know her friends, Anita and Börje? „Of course, they are neighbors, right across the field. I can see their house from ours.“ She was very happy. Yes, and where would I be staying tonight? Now it was me to be surprised: Ummm… I’m driving home today. She seemed to be irritated that someone would drive that far without staying overnight somewhere. IngaLisa offered to come warm me up in her house or I could get something to eat or coffee… she was really helpful and incredibly friendly. No thanks – I wanted to use the light while it was there. It gets dark at 3 p.m. and I probably wouldn’t be able to finish the picture. But thank you very much. I did ask if I could use her toilet if necessary. That’s a disadvantage when you keep yourself warm with a lot of tea… I had already thought about that and tried not to drink so much tea.

As expected, I didn’t finish the picture. But I got pretty far. What I saved until last was the shadow on the building, because I wanted to show as much sunlight as possible in the picture. That’s why the shadow in my painting corresponds to the position of the sun at around 2 p.m. By now my toes were icy, and the cold was slowly creeping through my clothes. At around half past two I packed up and knocked on IngaLisa’s door. I met her husband Alf. He told me that the farm I had painted – opposite – was farm number 9 (9:ans Pizza is now written in large letters on the facade) and that he had run it back then – alongside four other farms in the village. But now there are no more farmers in the village, he was the last one. We chatted a bit, I declined a coffee, but I was allowed to use the toilet. Then I drove the 120 km home in the approaching dusk with a sunset in the rearview mirror.

I’m excited to see where I end up next week. If you want to be informed about it or read my post directly in your email, the easiest way is to enter your email address here: