#1297 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By Juliet CornellIn art, StonehouseLeave a comment
Art Explora Mobile Museum

It is not every day that a large lorry rocks up in our neighborhood and opens its doors as a mobile art exhibition.

Our life here is shaped by the sea, our day was shaped by the needs of a three year old with a limp. The two situations fitted together perfectly.

The exhibition was curated from the Government Art Collection.

My favourite piece was one that has to be seen to be believed . It doesn’t photograph easily. In my, not so humble opinion, my photograph is better than the one in the brochure.

Brochure.
My photo of Bengal Tiger Van by Chila Burman.

I love it because it is a composite image of a seaside ice cream van transposed onto an enlarged image of a ten pound note. Printed and then hand embellished with South Asian patterns created with glitter which is actually tiny,tiny Swarovski Crystal. Every time the door to the gallery opened and allowed sunshine in, the Crystal lit up in much the same way as inbuilt holograms do in actual £10 notes.

The absolute joy of this image is doubled or trebled because it is printed on my favourite named Somerset Velvet printing paper.

Oh to live in a world where I could roll around on Somerset Velvet and be embellished with Swarovski Crystal.

Meanwhile the 3 year old with a limp did the serious business of listening to an artist talking about their work on some head phones. Just as she did in a recent blog.

#1293 theoldmortuary ponders

A tale of two vans on a seafront.

More of this exhibition after another visit. But no prizes for guessing which piece of art I would choose to steal and hang in my own home…

#1296 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By Juliet CornellIn Art for sale, Serendipity1 Comment

I have recently decided not to rely solely on Exhibitions or Galleries to sell my art. Although those two things have not been exclusively where I sell art, they are in lots of ways the main focus of my attention and creative output. Time to dip my toes into a different way of selling prints and original work and creating designs for other people.

I knew having a year away from exhibiting would be strange after many years of participating in group shows. Stepping back always alters perspectives and if, and when, I decide to go back to such things. I will definitely be  doing things differently.

Doing things differently seems to be my arty philosophy of the week. For no particular reason I have started a watercolour on a massive full sized ( Imperial) sheet of paper. It has a fantasy botanical theme and is being done as research for a different painting. It will take a while…

No doubt both of these projects will take a great amount of real world pondering and those ponders will undoubtedly land here from time to time. Art can be a funny old pastime.

#1295 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity, art, Procrastination1 Comment

After a summer of entertaining 3 granddaughters in arty pursuits it is time to put my studio in order.

I found a fabulous triple width pencil box in the bathroom. Previously it had held lovely beauty products.

Pencil cases are such a September thing. Never in a lifetime of September’s has there been quite such a useful pencil case.

Just organising it gave me the urge to get on with creativity rather than the procrastination of sorting out the studio. Not only Procrastination but this week I need to get an application for a commission submitted before anything truly arty happens.

For clarity the rather grubby tissue in the pencil box is actually a putty rubber.

An earlier blog mentions putty rubbers and my origin story with them.

https://theoldmortuary.design/2018/09/17/always-keep-your-putty-rubber-warm/

I’ve been buying them now for a little more than 50 years. Like many things I am not certain they are as good as they used to be…

#1294 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Bobbing, SerendipityLeave a comment

What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?

I don’t  believe I have ever done anything remotely brave. Witnessed or not. Were I to contemplate bravery I think I would choose to do it with no one watching in case I failed or misread the situation and bravery was not required. I am also someone who immediately devalues something if I achieve it. So if I was both brave and successful. I would immediately recalibrate the situation  to one that required no courage at all.

5 years ago I would have considered swimming in the sea in England in December as the action of someone who was either brave or daft

After 5 years of doing it I know that cold sea swimming is a pretty daft hobby . Definitely on the lower end of the Brave/ Daft spectrum.

I know my place and am brave enough to say that daft is where I sit most comfortably.

#1293 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn art, Colour, The BoxLeave a comment
I like the idea of art that knocks you off your feet. Gillian Ayres

Early September is my time to catch up with Summer exhibitions. This year notably because heatwaves made me less inclined to do anything much. I very much like to be knocked off my feet by art.

Gillian Ayres is an artist whose work  explodes colour. Colour is absolutely my favourite thing about both art and life.

Due to a climbing frame injury, I had a three year old ,with a limp ,as my gallery escort.  She loved the sensation of huge canvases of bright colours.

We paint the essence of something. I don’t know how to be very clear about it in words. I suppose that is why I paint. Gillian Ayres

Me too, my work is more representational but the essence is always important and I have to be very careful not to be too wordy or literal in my thinking and vision for an image.

Visiting an exhibition with a three year old is like doing so after a couple of glasses of Fizz or some other perception enhancer. There is both giddiness and instant joy. The colours and scale of the works we looked at were both monumental and vivid.

Wise nana-ing limits actual art appreciation to about an hour. Another hour is spent creating our own mistress pieces in the hands-on gallery.

Then lunch in a nearby student cafe with more colour and texture than the ubercool sophisticated gallery cafe.

The gallery gift shop allowed a small person to see herself reflected in colour.

Drenched and submerged in all things colour my delightful guest asked to go back to the gallery. Music to an arty Nana’s ears.

This time she chose which exhibition to visit. She couldn’t have chosen better. I met an old favourite painting by George Shaw.

Meanwhile she studiously listened to the artist describing his work.

And together we chose the work we would most like to steal from the gallery.

I find the idea of theft from an art gallery is the most wonderful creative  thought process. When I used to work in an art gallery I used it as a conversation starter not only with children but also with grumpy old curmudgeons , who were being mean spirited about the art they were viewing. To be honest I use it on myself when art or anything visual is not to my taste. A little crime fantasy focuses the mind on positivity I find.

What did we do after all this colour drenching?

We pottered off to an allotment and found yet more colour. Just enough to fill a small hand.

#1292 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity, weather1 Comment

What’s something you do completely differently from how you were raised?

It has been welcome to have a fabulous British summer, but also slightly discombobulating. Normally I approach September with great optimism that we will get lovely sunny days in September whilst making all the normal September adjustments to shortening days, darker mornings and more bedding.

As a cold water swimmer I look forward to September being the warmest water temperatures in our small bay but we have had warmish water for two months already.

So I suppose what I am saying is that normally I view September as a compensatory month. Put in place to make up, when needed ,for a typical mixed weather summer. This year no compensation is required.

Late September is when I choose to take my holidays, some guaranteed sunshine before the cooler grip of autumn has me layering up and thinking of stews.

September has always seemed to me to be a month to be especially optimistic. For someone who was raised to be annoptomistic person that is a very comforting month to be in.

What is completely different this year is that I am utterly satiated by good weather vibes. We have lived through the warmest British summer since records began 200 years ago. I don’t need to be especially optimistic about September. Nothing was cancelled in Summer 2026 because the weather was inclement.

September can be whatever it wants to be. Its own changeable self with absolutely no responsibility to make up, in any way, for June, July or August.

For the first time I can actually acknowledge that September is the first month of Autumn.

#1291 theoldmortuary

On By theoldmortuary.designIn art, Procrastination, SerendipityLeave a comment
Saint, Good Witch, Goddess

I absolutely knew I was procrastinating while writing yesterday’s blog.

#1290 theoldmortuary ponders

I was avoiding the reality of my Washing machine having broken down at the worst possible moment.

Over the weekend a neighbours cat had found it’s way through the window of our bathroom and he had marked his territory in the only way non-neutered Tom Cats consider effective, and had blessed a bathmat with an enormous pool of his pungent urine. It had been marinated in the broken washing machine overnight.

Knowing I was procrastinating and pondering procrastination turned out to be an artistic journey.

Having an interest in the absurdities of Christian and Celtic Saints and their claims to fame and good works I googled

‘Is there a saint for procrastination?’

A negative result turned into a new little project . There is no deity, saint or witch with any responsibility for procrastination. There is however a male Saint who acts against procrastination. Saint Expeditus.

©wikipedia

And just like that I felt the urge to find  a wonder woman called Procrasta. To give a name and a face to something I can be awfully good at at times. I had an unused water colour woman from an old project.

Procrasta a Goddess.

I am currently working on a Celtic Witch project so thought I would have a little fun with my image while avoiding the bathmat. My apologies to Saint Expeditus.

I popped Procrasta into a photo editing App and asked for her to be romantic . Saintly even.

Saint Procrasta

And finally I gave her a contemporary switch up in much the same way that I am doing with my Celtic witches.

The Good Witch Procrasta

Today I am not procrastinating . I am in that infernal loop of waiting in for a Washing Machine engineer between 8 a.m and 1pm. 

Hoping that my new Saint, Mr Expiditus has had a word in an engineers ear.

P.S  St Expeditus was not available today, instead he sent St Jude. The engineer was delayed until the afternoon and my washing machine was deemed to be a lost cause.

#1290 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Procrastination, Serendipity1 Comment
1st September 2025

Months are not like weeks. Months do not have a gap of a couple of days for recovery between one ending and another beginning. Hard on the heels of yesterday’s farewell to August, I am obliged to write a welcome to September. With no Monthend days in between.

#1289 theoldmortuary ponders.

For me there is a stark difference, entirely of my own making. In August I forgive myself for laziness because it is August. In September the drum beats a different and more urgent tune. Procrasta the Saint, Good Witch or Goddess of putting things off, lolls about in August encouraging and rewarding languorous behaviour. I believe she lives off warm figs in August.

Procrasta

In September she causes more positive trouble,by finding things of greater interest,but less importance that take up time before the real job can get done.

So with no gap between August and September I must respond to her change in character and get on with one or two things. Because sometimes even writing a blog is actually a procrastination. She is a deviously interesting character and although I only named her today, I fear I have been in her thrall for some time.

So much better to blame a mythical creature than accepting an innate character flaw

Warm Figs

#1289 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Bobbing, BreakfastLeave a comment

Farewell August, you have been particularly fine this year.  August is never one of my favourite months, nor is it one I actively dislike. It is the bringer of shorter days and unpredictable weather. I will never be a fan of shorter days, but after a summer of heatwaves from May onwards, the unpredictable nature of August has been delightful. Two days running we have been dodging really heavy rainfall . Which is pretty normal for late August. Usually it is a little dispiriting, but compared to the baking days of most of our summer, the rain felt like a welcome and quirky distraction.

Breakfast, blog and dog spot

During August and the heatwaves, Lola and I have developed an early morning routine of walking to the seafront most mornings. The timing being the difference in our routine rather than the destination. Late August’s slightly cooler weather brought a new changed routine. The timing was less heat specific but I would take breakfast with us and we would settle in one of the alcoves overlooking the sea.

Lola, in camouflaged comfort, waiting while I have a swim, write a blog or just take in the views before we both tuck into breakfast before heading for home.

Going forward I wonder if we might stick to this rather lovely breakfast, blog and solo bob habit.

Thank you August.

#1288 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity1 Comment

Rain is a bit of a tradition for the August (Summer) Bank Holiday.  This nearly always galvanises us to get outdoor jobs done beforehand, which is why the yard got a lot of attention on Friday before the giddiness of the Full Moony swim.

Saturday did not disappoint, weatherwise. The morning dog walk was a complete wash out, even my brilliant orange raincoat failed to save the day and a complete change of clothes was required. The day was not a washout however. Many of the full Moony Bobbers put their clothes on and swapped shore for moor. Driving to Princetown, home of the infamous Dartmoor Prison. Crossing the bleakly beautiful moorland. The location of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Hound of the Baskervilles. No howling last night just lovely tunes at the Dartmoor Outdoor Festival.

Curiously for an outdoor festival we were inside the solidly granite  bar of the Plume of Feathers at Princetown, to hear our fellow bobber Helen sing with her friend Steve. Two hours of great music, great chat, always a given when bobbers gather and an unexpected life lesson.

A local Residential Home had brought 5 very senior residents to enjoy the music. One in particular was like a lightbulb all evening. Lit up by music and the atmosphere. It was obvious that in her mind she was twirling on the dancefloor, maybe even that actual dancefloor at the end of the second world war. When Princetown was a much more lively place

During World War II, Princetown served as a remote staging area for Allied troops preparing for the D-Day landings and briefly used its railway line to transport prisoners to Dartmoor Prison. American and Allied forces used the high, isolated Dartmoor landscape around Princetown and Rundlestone Corner for tactical training away from enemy observation. The historic prison facility accommodated troops and preparations leading up to the Normandy invasions.The Princetown Railway saw a temporary resurgence in transporting prisoners to the local prison as road and alternate rail links handled heavy wartime traffic.

Imagine those heady post war months in a remote village swollen with British and American Service personnel, dismantling and disengaging a huge and temporary Military establishment.

Her absolutely obvious pleasure made for a lovely vicarious moment.

Lola on the dancefloor.