A Burning Frost: Joan Eardley in Catterline
An essay on one of Scotland's best-loved artists and the clifftop village she called home
Sunsets on Scotland’s east coast lack the drama of the west. There is none of that long drum roll before the sun does its vanishing trick. In the east the gloaming is brief. For a short while the evening air takes on a blue tinge. Then darkness.
I arrived at the Airbnb in Catterline late afternoon and, as is my middle-class habit, di…