Author: theoldmortuary.design

theoldmortuary has been a blog for about five years. It has evolved into an almost daily event. Pondering on the things that are inspired by my daily life. Often mundane, sometimes repetitive I swerve from hyperlocal activity to big and small thoughts without blinking an eye. I am an artist and writer. My hometown is Plymouth in South West England, part of me will always be connected to London and another part loves to travel.

#505 theoldmortuary ponders

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A big day yesterday. After 5 years with my trusty smart phone it was time to move on. Just like me the phone was getting a little cranky. It had not had the best of starts. Almost on day one I had dropped it and the back had crazed like a windscreen. But as luck would have it the silicone cover I had ordered arrived on the same day and the injury was largely unseen and forgotten until recently, when things started to get a little loose. Charging became a bit hit and miss and sometimes the touch sensitivity was just a little off. Under normal circumstances I would have just upgraded, but Huawei no longer sell phones in Europe. So here I am, the first blog on a new phone. A lot to learn so only small pondering. The top picture was generated by Google Photos and shows the location of an International Womens Day gathering that I attended yesterday. There was a lot of cake.

There were also fabulous books, clothes and bric a brac to exchange.I returned home with less than I took, which is a positive, and full of good food and lovely anecdotes from everyone I met there. Donations were made to the Disasters Relief Fund and the total raised will be divided between the ongoing work in Turkey and Ukraine.

And so, first time to push the publish button on my new phone.

#504 theoldmortuary ponders

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©theoldmortuary

International Women’s Day. Pondering this is not hard, how dreadful is it that such a day is even needed. Time to reflect on what it is to be a woman in the 21st Century and time to wonder how things will change for everyone’s daughters and granddaughters who will live into the 22nd Century.

©theoldmortuary

I had a quick digital rummage for any sketches of women in my portfolio. I think all of them are quite strong images, this matches my view of the women that I choose as my friends.

I’ve never been a fan of women who adopt subservience to men or who rely on a man for their place in society or those who give up their financial independence to just be an adjunct to a man or men. Strong, competent, effective women are much more my cup of tea.

International Women’s Day, a day to celebrate all the wonderful women who have supported and encouraged me with positive words and actions. A day to reflect on those who have been less than kind too, they also helped to form me. As did the many men who are enlightened enough to know that they are our equals.

The world will be a better place when men and women can work together from an equal position of strength. For 365 days of the year. No special days needed.

©theoldmortuary

#503 theoldmortuary ponders.

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Yesterday’s blog was hijacked by a large Seagull poo. There was no way to talk about the beautiful beach that we found just a few steps away from the sculpture mentioned in yesterday’s blog. https://theoldmortuary.design/2023/03/06/502-theoldmortuary-ponderd/

At 9am this beach was too warm to wear a coat. It was a completely perfect suntrap. A coffee and two happy dogs made for a lovely early morning start. This little beach collects light weight metal detritus. A tiny aluminium accessory could be posed as a tiny piece of land art.

There was also a small verdigris square of a light metal that had washed up.

Beech combing and coffee done it was time for a walk. The sunburst lichen was a very uplifting place to stop and bask in the real sun.

While watching seabirds fishing for breakfast in a fascinating pool of water in the sea.

If we had found all this on a holiday walk we would have been thrilled but as it was only 30 minutes walk from home it was good to share it with the dogs.

I also found a lovely old bench in bright sunshine for Pondering with a capital P.

An early morning well spent.

#502 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Plymouth1 Comment

A monumental early morning, my first time with Rusty Reg on his own. Look II by Antony Gormley is usually surrounded by people rod fishing. They don’t really appreciate people wanting to take pictures and I don’t really appreciate taking pictures with bits of fishing rod altering the silhouette of a fine piece of sculpture.

This morning, no fishing, some early morning sunshine and a lot of lovely rust.

Not all of it of the monumental kind.

Just behind Look II there is a commemative plaque, slightly monumental, that celebrates the achievement of Francis Chichester.

And then, just a few steps away, was a monumental Seagull shit. So utterly monumental I had to put my coffee cup down to give a sense of proportion.

I am so very glad I side stepped that. Monumentally glad.

#501 theoldmortuary ponders

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Rather a late blog. No particular reason. Certainly not giddy celebrating of blog 500.Our weekend plans have flipped completely and maybe that has affected my time line. For whatever reason I overslept considerably this morning leaving no gap for some gentle Pondering before the day started. A news article piqued my interest as I was scrolling while cooking breakfast. It seems that one of my favourite doors has a life of its own beyond its home town of St Ives or my blogs.

This 200 year old door is opposite the kitchen window of a cottage that we like to rent in St Ives during the winter months. Below is the 2018 article that popped up while I was scrolling.

https://www.cornwalllive.com/news/cornwall-news/famous-st-ives-green-door-1833083

I hastened to Pinterest and Instagram and had a look at their picture grids of the door.

Pinterest and Instagram

It seems I am not the only person to find old doors with flaking paint fascinating.

https://www.stivesbythesea.co.uk/blogs/st-ives/the-green-door-of-st-ives-have-you-discovered-it-yet

By one of life’s wonderful coincidences we found an old, green, ghost sign in Plymouth, this example of flaky paint may not interest any branch of the various Tate Galleries but it has a green flaky charm of its own.

Below is another WordPress Blog with the exact same subject.

St Ives – behind the green door

Flaky paint on a Sunday. Pondering is a funny old habit.

#500 theoldmortuary ponders

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500 blogs in this series. I should perhaps roll out a great big old ponder for such an auspicious number but instead I am rolling out a softer more ponderous ponder. This small sketch caught my eye. A man, or woman in a hoodie is such an iconic image of our times. The subject of this sketch specifically tells a thousand stories. My first though was that he was like any number of men I have met. Aged prematurely by the life they have led. Sinewy necks created by manual work and a mouth sunken by tooth loss. Specifically to Plymouth he looks like a crewman heading into a local pub after a few days and a few decades at sea. Straight off the boat he has not yet scrubbed up for socialising. His first pint and his crew mates don’t care what he looks like.

Crew could well be printed on the back of this man’s Hoodie. A roadie from countless world tours with rock bands. The younger roadies leap and swing from rigs and stages but this guy knows where everything goes. He knows where to get the drugs in every world city, legal and illegal, and has seen two or three generations of groupies anxious to make out with the band and him if it gets them closer.

Every city has men like this, lost against the brickwork of our streets. Lives lived but in this moment anonymous and passed by.

But who is this man in a Hoodie?

He is a 15th Century Monk and the sketch is attributed to Leonardo Da Vinci. 1452-1519 A simple sketch, so many stories to be imagined. A man we see nearly every day. Somewhere. And for the 500, this man is a little over 500 years old.

©The Box

#499 theoldmortuary ponders

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©Time Out

On this one occasion where @theoldmortuary goes Time Out follows, albeit at the number 7 spot on their list of most overlooked places in the world. Who even knew @theoldmortuary was quite so on trend!

https://www.timeout.com/travel/worlds-most-underrated-travel-destinations

I’ve copied and pasted the Plymouth section so I can use my own illustrations and add my own small pearls of wisdom. Actually these Pearls are of wealth and not mine to share. There is every possibilty these Pearls passed through Plymouth in the 16th century. Elizabeth I favourite man with very dubious morals, Francis Drake, opperated almost exclusively out of Plymouth. She liked gifts and he supplied them.

The Armada Portrait, currently at The Box Plymouth.

Plymouth, England
If the Devon city of Plymouth were any smaller, it’d be considered a jewel of a day-trip destination. If it were any bigger, it simply couldn’t be overlooked. Perhaps because of its middling size, it’s slipped under the radar, and that’s pretty unfair, if you ask us. I like a city that I can do most things by walking or using public transport, not always possible but defiantly achievable most days. Like art? The Box is a brilliant, recently opened gallery that celebrates local artists.

Local artist, not celebrating.

Like architecture? You’ll be dazzled by the newly done-up Market Hall, which also has its own ‘immersive art dome’.

@theoldmortuary goes there often, good coffee and cake, 360 degree films and a memorable lesson in Aerial Yoga.

Like swimming? Few pools are more spectacular than the Tinside Lido.

Tinside, fun swimming and fuels my obsession for abstract photography through glass bricks.

Like gin? England’s oldest distillery is smack bang in the historic city centre.

Cocktail from a glug jug.

Book a room at the Bistrot Pierre B&B, in the revamped Royal William Yard, and you’ve lined up pretty much the perfect weekend away.

No need for a room at Bistro Pierre but @theoldmortuary can easily bore the socks off you all with our daily dog walks here.

Thanks to Time Out for giving me an excuse for a quick dip into my photo archive. Congratulations for getting to Friday with me.

#498 theoldmortuary ponders

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Describe the last difficult “goodbye” you said.

The new-to-me blogging platform gives daily prompts to inspire. I have used one of them last week but more as a reaction to it than inspired by it. This one similarly made me think that some of the most difficult goodbyes are the ones that were not said. I would be loath to rank my many sad, difficult awkward or even life changing goodbyes. But the ones I didn’t get to have are poignant, raw, saddening at their worst and wistful at best. There are so many things that we do in life for the last time, without knowing. Experiences that we will never have again. A group of people or person we will never see again. A place we will never return to. Thankfully this is often a good thing so I don’t need to over think this, but in response to this prompt, I would say some of the most difficult goodbyes are the ones I didn’t have. Occasionally the non-goodbyes swirl around in my head, they are inconclusive thoughts, little whisps of love, happiness, familiarity or friendship, locations or experience. Insubstantial like clouds or candy floss there is a beginning but no end, just infinite regret, sometimes, and acceptance, eventually.

#497 theoldmortuary ponders

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I am the green message. The subtext was “I’ve just had a shower and I’m really warm and snug, a bob is the last thing on my mind but the dogs do need a walk so I will come for a natter”

This was the Bobbing zone. It was very persuasive.

Do you call this a dog walk?

As luck would have it there was no one else about. My coat came off and soon after it all my clothes. With a rising tide and a super quick submersion no one was any the wiser. The rising tide did cause a small problem.

Nothing that multi layers and deft dressing couldn’t cope with, the sunshine was very competent at drying me off and the reward was iced gems for all.

Where is the ponder in that I hear you all asking. Well…

Just about every local dog walk takes me past the sea. The only walk I do that doesn’t feature actual water is the Ferry Port and Royal Marine Barracks where there are security cameras and men with very big guns to dissuade casual water entry, casual anything really. In the winter, on a dog walk, my mindset is always one of gratitude that I am not about to plunge into the sea. This morning was no exception. I was fresh out of the shower and wrapped up very warmly against a bracing walk in 4 degrees centigrade. A natter with bobbing friends while doing the dog walk was as close to bobbing as I was prepared to get, until the sun lured me to take my coat off while they were getting ready to swim. We were in a sun trap and there were very few people about. The dogs were preparing to bask on the warm rocks and before I knew it my socks and boots were off, quickly followed by everything else. A very quick entry into the sea and my fate was sealed, I was bobbing. It was high tide so even getting out was easy to do unobserved. A moment in the sun, unplanned and lovely.

Temptation at 4 degrees

#496 theoldmortuary ponders.

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Two months late but thriving. These small narcissi used to be a New Year event. One tiny clump existed immediately behind an old military fence at Devils Point. Last year the area was landscaped and the narcissi became collateral damage as the old fence was ripped up. Huge concrete posts were torn out and there was no sign of the tiny bulbs. Several visits at New Year showed nothing much in the freshly landscaped area, just some straggly leaves that may of may not have been the bulbs. But two months on there are two larger clumps than ever existed previously.

If the bulbs had been deliberately protected the outcome would not have been so great. The one preserved clump would certainly be celebrated but by getting no protection and being woefully mistreated by a big digger with caterpillar tracks, the clump has become clumps and seemingly much healthier. I can’t get a useful shot of them both together as they really are very very small and quite a way apart now. I wonder if they will manage to make up time over the summer and autumn underground and be ready to bloom on New Year’s Day 2024. I hope so, but seeing them so healthy in February feels like a clear sign that Spring is on the way and that, as is often the case, my moments of worry were moments wasted. They were doing just fine on their own