#1269 theoldmortuary ponders.

A very long while ago I was gifted these fine art pastels. They had belonged to a friend’s mother who had been a well received flower artist. On her death the pastels found their way to me. I have had them nearly thirty years and she was very old when she moved on to the great studio in another realm, so these are probably more than 50 years old.I worked out yesterday that in my 30 years I have used about 20% of what I was given. After a sort out I had 5 empty drawers. For the first time ever I went into an art shop and bought some pastels. Some really bright pastels to create a specific image.

I really only needed  red,orange, bright pink and black. But the local art shop didn’t sell single pastels. Although made by the same manufacturer as my old pastels these giddy contemporary pastels are a little more difficult to use, they are possibly a student version . A bit of research tells me that Rembrandt pastels were first introduced in 1924. There is every chance that some of my pastels are nearly that age. Some of them certainly lived through World War 2 in London with their previous owner.

Favourite tree on Mount Edgecumbe

  Which is rather fabulous as I am creating a time warp landscape that features Devonport, formally Plymouth Dock, a favourite tree, duplicated.

Fireworks or Incendiary Devices over Devonport formally Plymouth Dock

Fireworks or incendiary bombs  and of course, given the current project Mr JMW Turner.

Mr Turner under a tree.

I think the landscape, should it need a genre might be classified as Magical Realism.

Turner overlooking Plymouth Dock for 200 years. Inspired by Wallpaper.

And a direct Turner quote

My blacks are deliberately very black and the brights are either sombre or joyful. The Plymouth Blitz or Firework night.

All this from a box of old pastels and a few gaudy new ones.

#1267 theoldmortuary ponders.

Crossing the Bar II

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

Now I am very much risk averse , harm averse would better describe me. But if I switch the word risk for unpredictable outcome or experimentation then I am much more comfortable with the whole concept of taking a risk. I am not a huge fan of timid or obnoxiously certain people because their place on the risk taking spectrum is so different from mine.

Arty and creative risks are my favourite things to do. A bin full of failure is the foundation of my creative practice.

I took a risk with the picture above. I had a stash of very old  (20 years) but very good quality Ink Jet paper.

This image is a bit of everything, gelli printing, collage, watercolour and pastels. Under such pressure many papers would fail and this one was no different. But the failure, where the surface pulled off is almost its greatest success. The orange area above the boat got a bit too wet in the process and the surface started to lift off. Working into the area with pastels created the cloud texture.

Then a bit of photo meddling created two different images.

Crossing the Bar III
Crossing the Bar IV

Each one is a risk I am happy with.

#1266 theoldmortuary ponders.

View from the Quarry, definitely at Saltram.

An Easter weekend of socialising and doing yardening jobs meant that the jobs were all done, but the resulting need to visit the tip was put off until yesterday. Which turned out to be a gift from the Goddess of Serendipity.

Yesterday was the 250th anniversary of the birth of JMW Turner, the artist whose works are the inspiration for the next exhibition I am entering. On the drive to the tip I listened to the radio and two very interesting women were discussing both his work and the changes that he caused in the critical thinking of Landscape painting.

JMW Turner was a regular visitor to Saltram House in Plymouth, as well as the wider Tamar Valley area. His work is held in collections the world over. In London Tate Britain holds not only a collection of his works but his papers, sketches and other items

The Turner Bequest comprises the majority of Joseph Mallord William Turner’s works at Tate. It was established after the artist’s death in 1851 and includes nearly 300 oil paintings and around 30,000 sketches and watercolors. The collection is now housed in the Clore Gallery at Tate Britain

One such item is the sketch below,

And where was I as I listened to this…

Chelson Meadows Recycling Centre (Tip). Definitely at Saltram

…at a tip, on the site of an old quarry. Definitely at Saltram. From famous English Romantic Painter to the distinctly unromantic dumping of a stinky, old, water butt.

I marked the serendipitous moment with two photographs, one an image I meddled with.

And the other an image of the most optimistic placement of a chair to sit and take in the view.

The chair is just under the red star. High tide visits only and only by using a small boat. 250 years on, what would Mr Turner make of his  Quarry location?

#1263 theoldmortuary ponders.

The Avon River but not as we know it. The Avon River at Bantham is a regular swimming spot for us on the coast. But by accident, yesterday evening we got much closer to its source near Ryders Hill on the high South Moor of Dartmoor. Hugely swelled by the last two days of torrential rain it was a noisy, splashy , vivid river. Quite unlike our usual, gentle ideas of the Avon.

Boathouse at the mouth of the River Avon

Burgh Island at the mouth of the River Avon

Normally when we have been paddling about in the River Avon  the dogs smell salty with the fragrances of seaweed and rock pools. Yesterday there was no paddling in the river and they smelled of bog.

Happy Easter.

#1261 theoldmortuary ponders.

Work in Progress
©theoldmortuary

For many, Easter is a four day weekend. Thursday evening seems just a little more relaxed than normal in anticipation. But two days of great weather have given way to a deluge. Luckily I caught sight of a group of paddleboarders at high tide and sunset. When the weather was being kinder

I took one of my ‘bad’ photographs and,  inspired by my puddle photograph of yesterday. I created an image with similar bold colours but enhanced the softness  of colour reflected in water.

I decided to slightly change the location and relative size of the paddleboarders. I will tinker with them some more over the next few days.

I suspect that this will be my image of Easter 2025 as I tweak it  into submission, in both senses of the word, ready for an exhibition in May.

As an aside to all this, my workspace is finally finished. It has taken us 6 months to find exactly the second hand furniture we needed to store regular life and art materials. We never intended bright pink to be an accent colour but an old sari is the perfect cover up for works in progress on the table, and my lovely old typewriter is just the perfect shade of beige.

Even as I write the words  ‘perfect shade of beige’ I realise that this tidy work space is another piece of great procrastination. I need to set to and get on with the work for the Turner Exhibition at the end of May. But while it was in a tidy pristine state yesterday I sat and filled in the application form on line. When I was done, not a thing was out of place.

It didn’t last.

#1260 theoldmortuary ponders.

Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.

Sometimes the prompts from my blog hosts are interesting and can feed into an interesting ponder. Most of the time they are just of no interest to me, so are swiftly scrolled past. Occasionally one like this holds no interest but there is a glimmer of interest in the  irritation I feel at the absurdity of the question.

Surely the result of every decision made,big or small, good or bad creates learning and growth. This is why we only tend to stub our baby toes once in a given location.

I took this picture yesterday not for the graffiti particularly but because of the softness of the vivid colours in the puddle.

Puddle pictures are one of my favourite things when they are beautiful. It is just that muddy/dirty puddles are the norm.

I wanted to get this vibrancy into one of my seascapes for the upcoming Turner exhibition. This puddle set me thinking, the results of that thinking might appear any time soon. Or perhaps they won’t.

Decisions, decisions, learning and growing…

Or maybe not.

#1259 theoldmortuary ponders.

What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?

When this question popped up on my blog host site overnight, I was a little perplexed. There must be millions of places in the world that I wouldn’t want to visit but surely I would have to visit them or have very solid research first to realise that. Life is too short for such ponderings. I will never visit all the places in the world that I want to visit or revisit. I suspect this particular question is one of my ‘ Great imponderables’

Much better on a rainy day to think of somewhere in the world I would like to be. Sitting in the shade on a very warm day eating figs fresh from the tree. Again there must be millions of places around the world where I could achieve this. Hunting for the positive is so much more enriching than dwelling on the negative.

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#1258 theoldmortuary ponders

An article in Saturday’s Guardian gave me a great name for my Hybrid photographs + watercolours. My images do not set out to fool anyone , they are just part of my creative process. But this article gave me a rather fabulous name.

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2025/apr/12/28-fake-images-that-fooled-the-world?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Meddled Photographs x Watercolour.

Some will become Hybrid Printmaking, but meddled or indeed meddling suits my style rather well.

I deliberately meddled with a  picture of Tinside Lido because I was late to the party and my plan to picture it in its winter grubbiness was foiled by it being cleaned earlier in the week. It is also still clad in the bric a brac of builders who are rebuilding and refurbishing the Art Deco Lido.  My before shot is meddled with. The after image will be whatever it will be once the builders move out.

Meddling, not in a bad way and certainly not to fool anyone.

#1256 theoldmortuary ponders

This may not be the kindest way to discuss my maternal grandmother, but pondering does not always go the way of acceptability or indeed kindness. On a positive note I cleared the algae off this photo before using it.

Rocks at Bigbury

For good pondering I also need to flip and tweak.

I have outlived my own mother for four years and in the last year we have bought a high magnification illuminated make-up mirror.

As I peered into the mirror one mornng I looked close up at my soft but craggy cheeks. Skipped a generation and thought how alike my face was to my Nana’s. This is no bad thing, I adored my grandmother and kissing her softly wrinkled cheek was always a pleasure. Her cheeks were velvety and yielding, and smelled of glamour. She ran two businesses,smoked elegantly and constantly and always looked like Lucille Ball.

Men couldn’t help themselves and neither could she. In her seventies she moved to Melbourne in Australia. Pastures new and different men to captivate. Welsh Valleys , the flatlands of Essex and finally an Australian city. All changes made when her allure required her to move on.

My cheeks have not lived the life of my Nana’s. My mother very much disapproved of  her  ‘antics’. I was directed, encouraged and obediently followed a different path.

But a small child knows nothing of such adult stuff . Kissing a soft cheek that smells faintly of smoke, good cosmetics and a gin and tonic was a safe and exotic harbour for me.

I was aghast when my own wrinkles were laid bare by the new mirror but also charmed that in some small way my grandmother had returned to me.

My mum and her mum ( in the doorway of her pub) and unknown woman.

Google is a funny old thing. The pub my grandparents ran is long gone and has changed from the robust name of the Red Cow to the rather generically cute Daisy Cottage.

Google found an old Christmas card sent by the publicans.

©Andrew Clark

And a Historic England listing.

So much to enjoy from wrinkles. Botox will never be as interesting.

#1255 theoldmortuary ponders.

WIP Firestone Bay, Stonehouse.

12 Days of Sunshine. Spring has not been this good since the first Covid lockdown of 2020. A lot of water has flowed since those days of uncertainty and impending sadness. If I could pick one good thing, one great thing actually, of the whole Covid debacle. It would be the formation of ‘Bobbers’ our cold water, sea swimming clan of interconnected humans. Not a week passes without a chilly dip in Firestone Bay.

The tide and the currents were not our friends yesterday, but the Royal Navy ship HMS Sutherland, the Navy’s fastest ship, cut through our bay in a way that we could not.

WIP H.M.S Surherland

The thing that keeps us safe from peril in this sea is the one thing that I have yet to add to these two pictures. And yet it is the marker of achievement for a ‘good’ bob.

Getting to the first buoy. One of three that string the boundary of our swimming zone. We do our thing on the coastal side of the buoys and the Navy, and all other nautical traffic, stay on the island side of the buoys.

The buoy needs painting in a way that it will be obvious in these two pictures. A tiny project for today. But for now I just stuck the two buoyless pictures together. It works for me

W.I.P Firestone Bay, still no buoy.

P.S. Buoy added