It is an unusual day that sees me up at 4am and straight into my swimming costume, but then Summer Solstice is an unusual day. One where as many Bobbers, who are able, swim at Dawn and Dusk, in the rising and setting sun. The morning bob became quite a dog bobbing session.
Two dogs bobbing and one surfboarding.
The dawn was soft and the water fairly warm, for the time of year.
The evening bob was another lovely experience. Bubbles in both senses of the world were free flowing.
The water appeared to be a little cooler but the prosecco bubbles perked us up a bit. And so, at the opposite end of the day, I was ready for bed straight after my swim.
This is the second year we have marked the Solstice with double dipping sessions, a lovely way to mark time passing and the fellowship of swimming year round.
I am still trying to capture squares of colour in Stonehouse as first mentioned in blog #239. The early morning light gives me completely different colour combinations to sunset and I’ve decided to limit myself to early morning squares of colour for this first painting.
The dogs are complicit in these morning sojourns to gather watercolour inspiration. Yesterday I rewarded myself with a coffee and croissant down by one of the harbours. The dogs need for croissant was apparently just as important as mine. Their faces trap more crumbs than mine which is saying something, croissant crumbs have the tenacity of Super Glue sometimes.
On our little colour square hunt we found the door to the Edes Vinegar/Pickled Onion workshop open and got a fabulous stolen interior shot of the vinegar barrels.
I think local people would, quite likely, want to bop me on the nose if I tried to do a series of images of just inside their front doors. But this one is a gem.
Normal life got in the way of too much painting yesterday. So just the one square completed.
We do have quite an abstract little square going on at our own front door.
Hugo and Lola were not the only dogs, yesterday, to participate in proper human activities. The bobbers were out in force to support Helen Bobber, who was knocking peoples socks off at the Who’d Have Thought It , Open Mic session. Here are Stan and Ralph, Bobberdogs, eager to get to the pub and listen to soulful sounds.
Hugo and Lola stayed at home, four dogs at an Open Mic is at least two too many to be comfortable. Especially as Helen is now fully recovered from Covid and after some months can easily hit her high notes.
Finally, yesterday I was ready to ditch any form of wetsuit and just swim. Unencumbered by a lengthy dressing and undressing process. Summer has arrived in my swimming life. The day had been a collection of small domestic positives, admin and chores achieved and dog walks in the sun. One of my walks located some old friends, the white cows who normally sit on the green are having a rest and possibly a spruce up in one of the local secret gardens.
A small tin has also arrived. A reward to myself for selling a few pictures recently. The topics of the exhibitions I am entering later in the year need a more earthy feel than recent works, so I bought some earthy colour watercolours hand made from natural minerals in Pennsylvania just to start off my thinking process.
One of my evening swimming companions took a fabulous panoramic shot of Firestone Bay. The colours in my little tin would also work quite well if I attempted a sketch here one evening.
With reference to yesterdays blog. The plan was to be wearing Coastal Granny attire for another day. Remarkably the pale colours of coastal chic had remained clean and bright, almost certainly because there were no coastal small persons around and because I had remained, unusually, far away from paint. Just some gentle sewing was attempted. On balance I may aim for Coastal Nana, a less influential style in terms of fashion 2022, but more achievable. On balance is absolutely the two key words of this blog. In the picture above I am wearing lycra because plans change. We did not spend Sunday with me wafting around in pale colours and Hannah flying down a zip wire. We registered for an aerial class at short notice. Then we worried a bit about quite what we had signed up for.
It was a blast, an anxious blast at times, but most certainly the blastiest Sunday morning in a very long while.
We were gently introduced to our silken slings and warmed up in such a way that trepidation was replaced with temptation to actively try everything that was suggested. However unthinkable moments earlier.
Some of the exercises were fascinating and the urge to just hang, supported only by fabric was impossible to ignore.
Pointy toes and a concentrating face.
Towards the end we threw ourselves backwards, confident that we would be caught by the cocoon of orange fabric.
Trust in the instructors and their ability with knots was instant , a morning well spent and never to be forgotten.
Time passes and sometimes that feels inexplicably sad. Top Gun, the movie was released in 1986 just as I was about to embark on my childrearing years. The release of Top Gun Maverick, this year, when I no longer have the same familial responsibilities is a marker of some sort. The freedom of Youth relinquished willingly and excitedly to form a family and then the evolution of old age and freedom because that family no longer needs you to be that responsible. Me and Maverick have had the same career trajectory too. He is still ‘just’ a Captain because he was always better at the job he loved than promotion. I never progressed much either, because I also enjoyed the job, but also because in 1986 having a child was not the best career move for a woman. Me and Maverick just bobbing along at the same level for 36 years. What a strange parallel!
Beyond that strange gap of 36 years Top Gun Maverick is a rare thing. A Sequel that is possibly better than the original. It was a bit of a weepy for me. Maybe my brain realised I was witnessing more than just a film, before I did.
Its been quite the painting day here, but first the morning bob needs a mention purely for its novelty moment. It is not unusual for us to be passed, at some point, by Royal Marines out on training runs. What is unusual, however, is to hear the command, “Shirts off” and just like that the Marines took their shirts off and plunged in the sea.
The Bobbers, of course, were completely cool with this but not so another swimmer. The Marines chose a good day, it was a fabulous swim.
Meanwhile the outside of our house is being given a big makeover. Dark blue masonry paint and a yellow front door. The decision had been made and the paint purchased but moments before the paint was applied I was still checking Pinterest to see if the colour combination worked on other peoples houses.
I was in a deconstructing mood and chopped up a watercolour that had been deliberately painted to be cut up.
The scraps are endlessly fascinating.
Below is the reason for creating all this vivid mess.
These squares represent nearly a year of observing the sea colours on my daily walks on the Stonehouse Peninsular. This is my first experiment with the technique . #1 stacked up in the studio.
I found this bunting high up in a tree yesterday, while I was walking in the rain. A soggy reminder of a busy weekend, not particularly Jubilee themed for me, more arty really with a side serving of jubilance Three paintings went off to their forever homes over the weekend and another will go to a permanent gallery space later this week.
Lester Longwool goes to Devon
I have always loved the unintentional glamour of agricultural shows. Farm animals given the red carpet treatment for their moments in the judging ring. I used to like to photograph them as if they were celebrities. Painting them in Watercolours is a recent fun thing to do. Lester Longwool in the style of Marc Bolan is the first of these I have sold. As it was a group exhibition he was sold to someone unknown to me. I hope he makes his new home happy. I wonder if he did actually go to Devon, that was just his working title. Below is the unsold, version with him going to Cornwall.
Lester Longwool goes to CornwallSilver Birch Plantation
The Silver Birches, above, went to a friends house. I know I will see this one again. As for the last one, well it was never planned to be for sale. It is a large A1 watercolour project planned to be the backdrop for some digital work. For use as a source for a theme, background, marketing and website for some musicians. Once the project was over I had thought about cutting it up and repurposing it but the client did not want it destroyed and so just like the other two it left the cost confines of the studio. When all the creative work is done with it I can write a whole blog about the experience.
seachanges
There was one charming image that came out of the Queens Jubilee. It is just something cute to end a blog with before I knuckle down to some maths, the unpleasant side of todays studio work.
Jubilee Ma”malade Tea by Eleanor Tomlinson
Please take a moment or two to look at Eleanor’s website, lovely art is good for us all
Welcome to the Thursday that thinks it is Saturday. The Queen has been on the throne for seventy years, so in Britain we have a four day weekend with today, Thursday,being the first of the days off.
The Queen as Ziggy Stardust, both great British institutions.
My head has been incapable of adjusting to a Thursday Bank Holiday.I can’t help but be puzzled that this is not Saturday. Our usually quiet week day walk was enlivened by huge numbers of tourists. The dogs took their time reading all the pee mails that the unknown holidaying dogs have left, almost making us late for our usual, free, two hour parking spot. A big celebration in London with us not visiting is unheard of, but we never considered going this time. We no longer have our own Welsh Guardsman performing for Her Majesty.
Not because we have lost him, but because he has retired his Bearskin. To be fair his instrument of choice made him one of the men in the back row so we have spent many events of great national significance waiting for a glimpse of his bottom.
We often got front row seats, again really very lucky. On one occasion the seats were so special we had a slightly awkward sartorial moment. We had taken some South African friends, with us, who were dressed amazingly, I suppose we were dressed well enough for normal but as it turned out our tickets were anything but normal. London, on these occasions, is also far from normal so when our tickets, being checked at pinch points, sent us nearer and nearer to Downing Street we were not particularly perturbed. Alarm bells were slightly raised by the fashion and style of all the other people who were being gently directed with us. If we were dressed to an OK standard the others in the queue clearly had a different dress code. Men in Morning Dress ( three piece suits with tails) women in fabulous outfits with high heels and hats of the most fabulous sort. What sealed the deal for the strangeness of our ticket allocation, was the last part of our journey which was through the gardens of Number 10 Downing Street. The home and Office of the British Prime minister. We had randomly been given tickets on the same stand as International Diplomats. We diplomatically stuck close to our South African friends, who looked more dressed for the occasion than we did. We took our places in the stand and had fabulous views. No one noticed us at all, apart from those moments when our friends caught a glimpse of a black Welsh Guards musician and ululated with joy. Having done it once, those diplomats and their families, who could ululate, joined in on on every subsequent occasion. I suspect that is not the normal behaviour from the Diplomats stand, but it made the days events joyful and memorable.
Thursday as the new Saturday, a Platinum Jubilee is unlikely ever to happen again. My confusion is unlikely to be repeated. Probably just as well!
The dogs have a new beach of choice for one of their daily walks. It is a river beach that lies on the Devon side of the Hamoaze , a sort of watery border area, the sort known as 4 corners in some parts of the world. To the west is Cornwall, the east is Devon, north is the Tamar River and to the south the Atlantic, or Pymouth Sound. For the dogs the beach is a collection of freshly changed fascinating smells. At high tide the beach doesn’t exist but at mid tide a treasure trove of smells for them and treasure for their human companions is there for anyone to pick over. It is hard not to be fascinated by little pieces of sea glass and pottery. This handful was gathered in about ten minutes
The dogs love the area because even the most time conscious human loses all sense of time while picking up treasure. This allows them to sniff and track all manner of fascinating fragrances without interruption by a human anxious to get home. We go there so often I have created an indoor collection of ‘treasure’ that has definite boudaries. A box lid that can only contain a finite amount of bits. As new and more colourful bits are added, less interesting ones must be returned to the beach to continue their journeys.
So far this system has worked, only time can tell if discipline or hoarding will ultimately win.
Yesterday was a fine example of planning v serendipity and also a lesson in observation. We had planned to meet some friends for an early morning dog walk and breakfast. We were very surprised when we arrived , the cafe, which we had never noticed before, was very close to the end of one of our regular dog walks.
The end of our walk is between the double lines, we walk until there is nowhere else to walk. Quite how we have missed the Waypoint Bar and Bistro is beyond me. If I have an excuse it is that there is always loads of things to look at.
The actual Waypoint, itself demands attention. Yesterday the breakfast demanded attention.
There was also a pretty, camp, figurehead to catch the eye.
And pretty yachts, prepping for the Round Britain and Ireland Yacht Race.
No wonder the chatter around the other tables at breakfast were in so many different languages and so animated. When we left to do the gardening, , I almost wished I was going on an epic journey requiring skill and courage. Then I remembered I have neither of those attributes and that my potbound spider plants would not thank me for going off on an unplanned adventure. Later with the gardening achieved we waited to see if a cheeky offer on Ebay would be successful.
It was and the unplanned part of the day began. Our purchase required us to be in Bristol with the van early on Sunday morning. Supper and breakfast and a few clothes were popped in the van and we drove to a farmers field between Bristol and Bath for the evening.
Once we left the traffic jams of the motorways we found a different sort of hold up.
Paella in the sunset was our reward for gardening and driving.
The evening dog walk brought one more surprise for the day.
Definately a day that taught us to be more observational.
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