A Surreal day yesterday, taking a 2.5 year old to Forbidden Territories at a local art gallery.
She was the perfect companion because all 2.5 year olds live a surreal life most of the time.
She is very well used to being asked what is going on in the pictures in her books. So chatting about Surrealist Landscapes was entirely within her skill range.
My surreal moment was needing to describe the normal use of a telephone to her.
@ Tate Modern
Her only experience of a land line phone is an old Fisher Price toy, not without its own surreal elements in my opinion. I can’t say it was ever my favourite thing my children played with.
She loved the colours of the gallery walls and liked to lean against them so she could ‘ be art’.
Sometime later this week we will take an adult trip to the exhibition, fabulous I am sure but maybe it will not be so much fun.
First day of official Nana/Nona Daycare with just the Nana half of the care team. After a summer of unofficial play dates and cousins from Hong Kong we are busy sorting out new stuff fir the care of one small person. A new car seat should have been the big excitement but the box it came in was way more exciting.
In fact the day was shared fun wise between a cardboard box at home and a shiny new wheelbarrow at the Tennis Club.
Meal times are enlivened by a new game, developed to encourage conversation skills.
Never mind the under sixes improving conversation and listening skills. I know quite a few adults who could use this game to perk up their great disability of being boring, holding court or being way too fond of the sound of their own voice and opinions.
Says the woman who writes a blog that, more or less, only expresses her own doings and ponderings.
My walking and swimming destination of the day. A day when the summer,which ended just one day ago, has been declared the best on record.
In between my idyllic swim this morning and the afternoon dog walk. Rain fell briefly, in fat, heavy, blobs. Followed by fabulous sunshine. Meteorological Autumn has started in a frisky mood. My raincoat is officially out!
September the first. A Monday. I like months and years that start on a Monday, I find them curiously comforting. The first day of September and our weekend absolutely underlined that the scrag end of the scrag end of summer is upon us. Four seasons in one weekend. Always the wrong clothes and we camped out twice. Once deliberately in the van and once accidentally in our spare room.
Spare room camping was not dissimilar to staying in an airbnb. Just one that is quirkily decorated with our own ‘stuff’ and is the one room that still has a chandelier.
Spare room camping was caused by us completely forgetting to make the bed ready for colder weather and watching too much of a T.V drama. There was no inner spark that made either of us want to retrieve a quilt from the roof-space storage at 11 pm.
Our spare room sits snugly in the centre of the house. The window faces west to a different portion of the sea. Not that you can see the sea but you can hear it, and with a high tide at 11:30 we could hear waves crashing on rocks. Mini-break perfection in our own home.
Apparently more perfection is heading our way. An Indian Summer.
My Dad was always an optimistic man but especially optimistic about Indian Summers.
I too love the idea of an Indian Summer.
It wasn’t until I looked up this definition that I realised that my whole life is now an Indian Summer. Although I challenge the word late, preferring later. I could be wrong of course. If I R.I.P tomorrow I am exceedingly late but if I have 30 or more years to go then later is certainly more correct.
Since I prefer the later approach I will make very sure to avoid the ‘ Killing Frost’ Wikipedia mentions. Surely a good enough reason to get the warmer quilt down from the roof storage.
Lola is celebrating a full recovery from her cruciate ligament injury in the Spring. She has been on a regime of very limited exercise and plenty of rest. A lifestyle that suited her life goals perfectly. We have avoided beautiful, wide-open beaches all summer because the temptation to be too giddy was annoying for Hugo and Lola who took a very dim view of walking on the lead in places where extravagant dog behaviour is the norm. The only time Lola engages in joyful exercise willingly.
Talk to the paws because the ears are not listening.
Hugo set about recovering stray seaweed at the tides edge, while Lola allowed us some very rare moments of being photogenic and compliant.
Just twelve hours later their playground was the location of our Basking Shark, breakfast experience. Almost unbelievable really.
Once home and with a reliable signal Dr Google tells me that Trevone is a ‘hotspot’ for seeing basking sharks.
Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.
Good Morning Basking Shark, of all the creatures I might have imagined eating breakfast with you were not on my list. As the second largest shark in the world I was completely unaware that my chosen breakfast spot, Trevone Bay was also yours.
For me a bacon bap.
For you the attraction is Shrimp, Lavae, Zooplancton, Copepods and fish eggs.
For two hours we watched as you basked in the bay. We watched as families belly-boarded, oblivious to you just 100 yards from their happy squeals.
Follow the boys head up to see the sharks dorsal fin.
What a privilege. The shark however was unavailable for comment. Not wishing to speak with his mouth full.
I had an accidental art day yesterday. Starting with a surprise print sale. I was already a bit guilty that my creative output had dropped to zero for a month or so and I had to admit that and felt like I was slacking somewhat, while visiting other artists in their studios this week.
The unexpected sale of a print made me get out a watercolour doodle from early July.
Woman with drapes.
I worked onto it with a biro and an ink pencil with no great plans beyond doing some digital tweakery along the way. Maybe it is the slow approach of autumn but my woman with drapes emerged as a woman perching on a pumpkin.
The original drapes had been inspired by Cyril Power, a Modernist artist. Best known for his posters. His use of curves in straight places has always fascinated me.
Which took me to digital tweakery yesterday.
Two photographs superimposed.
Which then led to a full Cyril Power moment
My Cyril Power moment.
And that should really have been the end of it. But the pumpkin was unplanned, so I wondered if I could tweak a bit more and move my serene woman into somewhere with more serenity than a pumpkin patch. A bit more tweaking and by adding a still reflective pool, the original serenity and calm are restored. The pumpkin is gone.
And now when I visit other artists in their studios I can say I am working on a study of serenity. That makes me feel super serene , and I can still see Cyril Power in this image. Just calmer and less frenetic.
A stormy day yesterday provided the perfect illustration of a safe harbour. 100 yards and less than five minutes walk divided these two photographs yesterday. The difference is almost unbelievable.
The storm and some commitments kept me out of the water yesterday. But my short walk along Admiralty Road on a stormy day gave me some lovely hugs as I met fellow Stonehouse friends also making the journey from storm to safe harbour.
theoldmortuary took a trip to The Old Morgue yesterday to see the work of Drawn to the Valley artist Mary Toon as part of the Open Studios Event. The Old Morgue is just off Plymouths famous Union Street, which gives visitors the chance to see Urban Street Art, something that flourishes in this historic part of Plymouth.
Mary’s feltwork is always vivid and fascinating.
I bought one of her felted bead necklaces. I have no idea what was in her mind when she created this but for me it sums up the magic of the creativity that the Tamar Valley and the borderlands of Devon and Cornwall inspire. For me it is about the sheep of Dartmoor and the higher reaches of the valley and the pebbles beneath my feet on my local beach. Mary and I had a serendipitous meeting at Tranquilty Bay a few years ago. Mary along with other talented singers were performing Sea Songs on the beach. Calling to the Sea as the tide came in. The sounds drifted towards us as we did our evening dog walk. The whole experience was ‘other worldly’ as the sea wall hid them from view until the last minute. It was easy to imagine the Oceanids were, somewhat implausibly singing in Stonehouse. These woolly baubles will keep that lovely moment in mind.
Hard at times to imagine, but bustling, urban and sea-facing Plymouth is a vital part of Drawn to the Valley. Home to a large concentration of members, who meet regularly and support and galvanise one another to be experimental and collaborative in their work and their group exhibitions.
Mary has chosen a fascinating place to invite art lovers and visitors to. A brilliant choice of venue for Drawn to the Valley to show how diverse and fascinating members are.
My feet, and the rest of me woke up at a normalish time 6:00 and needed a light on. Wind and rain outside, but not quite visible. Sunrise was at 6:24 today. Another sure sign that the ‘scrag end of summer’ is fully established in these parts. At this time of day I am accustomed to considering an early dog walk to avoid the heat of the day. Today the consideration is rain avoidance. Hurricane Erin is the cause of our disturbed weather, she is heading to our shores in a less powerful but still disruptive way.
Among my many youthful plans, being a weather forecaster was one potential career path, as was Agony Aunt. Both could easily be revived as interests in semi-retirement.I also wanted to be a window-dresser at Selfridges on Oxford Street, maybe less transferable to the dabbling level of interest that I currently operate on for the other two. One can casually offer advice to others and comment on the weather. Not always at the same time of course.But rearranging a shops window display is not something that can be dabbled at without both causing alarm and probably setting off an actual alarm.
It must have been at this time of year, a year ago that I considered getting a little App operated weather station for our yard. Maybe I should do something about that.
Semi-retirement is like that, so much to do, so little time to do it with all that other dabbling and procrastination going on… Not to mention the weather, because here it comes.
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