April sweeps in with more promise than March. These two months share the joint responsibility of bringing in Spring and hosting the Easter holidays. This April of course will be unique and this Easter, unusual, because whatever way we traditionally spend the four day weekend. This year will not be the same, in any way, for humans.
The natural world and built environment knows nothing of our 2020 restrictions. Away from our homes all these things are happening. Aprils past have provided these images.
The only one I’ve actually seen in 2020 is the first, 500 yards from @theoldmortuary.
The others are out there, but not for this year.
Wild Garlic brings vibrancy to rural lanes, and fragrance to the kitchen.
Sunshine illuminates beaches effortlessly.
While wild grasses hold the dunes in place.
Old cars twinkle in London Streets.
While bossy notices fail to realise Bill Stickers is currently Socially isolating, untroubled by threats of prosecution.
Closer to home a city beach and sea water pool look crisp but chilly.
Even closer to home the bridges between the rest of the World and Cornwall look super sharp in the evening light.
For now we are at the far end of these bridges and nowhere else.
I think I’m a bit of a romantic when standing in Arrival or Departure areas. There is something that refreshes my faith in human relationships. There is anticipation,sadness, anxiety and hope but familial love and the closeness of friendship are the uppermost emotions.
Yesterday I spent a couple of hours in a combined arrival and departure area of a train station. I have embarked on heart wrenching journeys to visit dying parents from here, excitedly started fascinating journeys to the rest of the world. Alternatively I have waited patiently to welcome many people I love and care for. On Sunday evenings there is often a gathering of young people just embarking on their careers in the navy being gathered up from all corners of the country to be bussed off to Torpoint to start their basic training at HMS Raleigh.
Yesterday I was going nowhere , just there to promote Daffodil Growing , Art and many other fascinating aspects of the Tamar Valley Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.
What a perfect excuse to people watch. Plymouth Argyle were playing at home so the green and white army were the biggest recognisable group. Closely followed by happy Cosplay participants. Then there were the family or friend groups and the excited gathering of university students. There were some tears but there was overwhelming happiness too.
It was unpredictable who would interact with the joyous yellow of our leaflets and posters. The happy travellers of Plymouth Station took our yellow missives, who can guess how far they will travel.
I could have had a glove stretcher, a warming plate, a penny lick. What I actually got was the cheeky Coca de Mer.
Yesterday I was at an event hosted by The Box, the soon to be open contemporary cultural space in Plymouth. https://www.theboxplymouth.com/
I was handed a mystery object to talk about.
The Coco De Mer , a giant seed pod from the Seychelles was not unknown to me, there is one growing a tree at the Eden Project and there is a shop of the same name just North of Covent Garden https://www.edenproject.com/ https://www.coco-de-mer.com/
The seed is known for its erotic appearance, something that has hastened the trees demise in its native Seychelles.
It’s name means Coconut of the Sea, a name given erroneously because floating seeds were found in the seas of the Indian Ocean and were believed to come from underwater palm trees. In fact they had dropped into the sea and sunk because of their immense weight , only floating to the surface when the decay process made gasses and gave them bouyancy.
The Box specimen is blackened and has a glossy finish with a hole drilled into it. It was very tactile, not particularly heavy. It has obvious visual female charms but the surprise was how calming it was resting on my lap. The curves just nicely fill your hands and the smooth surface of the Plymouth specimen encourages fingers to make journeys around its form.
The tree is endangered because it’s seeds are the way they are and surrounded by erotic folklore. They are protected by law in the Seychelles, but can be sold in a more controlled way to tourists and institutions. Historically gathered examples are sold for massive prices.
But it exists to keep us all ticking along nicely in time. Introduced by Julius Caesar over 2000 years ago.
Leap day recalibrates and corrects time keeping because every year is actually 365 days and 6 hours long (one complete earth orbit of the sun) so once every four years those extra 6 hours are gathered together to make an extra day.
29 pictures in red to fill your extra day.
Red car Plymouth HoeMiss VVTywardreath rail crossingCrystal Palace Rail StationVV and Mum talk RothkoPosters Devonport PlayhouseRedcurrants Butler’s CottageRed vase @theoldmortuaryPoppies @theoldmortuaryJewel Salad @theoldmortuary100 Homes Project, PlymouthChinese New Year , Hong KongBowls South KoreaHugo and Lola hit the Red CarpetGipsy Hill Brewery at The Lord High Admiral , PlymouthNasturtiumsDetail of paintingStreet Art HaggerstonChilli lights and cook booksWelsh GuardsAutumn Leaf Dulwich Picture GalleryBeach plastic, PortwrinkleCroxted Road, DulwichDetail from paintingStreet Art, New YorkDodging the spray, Niagara Falls, CanadaPost Box, BarnesBrixton MarketHoi An
The Leviathan is a prominent sculpture, by Brian Fell, situated on The Barbican Plymouth. Locally it is known as the Plymouth Prawn . The Leviathan is set to become famous Worldwide as the Mayflower400 celebrations build up in Plymouth. The Leviathan is close to the commemorative Mayflower Steps.Leviathan has its own Twitter account , not that it’s particularly active or has many followers. Strange really. Leviathon lives in a lively location.Leviathan was installed in 1996 and is made of patinated steel. Leviathan is a sea monster created from regular sea creatures. Cormorants feet, the fins of a John Dory ,the tail of a plesiosaur, lobster claws and the head of an Angle fish. Despite this callaloo of body parts Leviathan is majestic.The Leviathans location is on one of my regular dog walks. There is a fabulous circular walk around the harbours and quays of Plymouth taking in both historic and contemporary port buildings and activities. I’m tempted to photograph the sculpture almost every time I see it , sunshine is the very best weather for Leviathan snapping, not unlike life really.I used the fishy subject for a watercolour subject, minus the drumstick! Although a competent image of a skewered Leviathan kebab eludes me.A little bit of printing magic and I’ve created a psychotropic Leviathan. At night The Barbican is nightlife central. Who knows if the Plymouth Prawn partakes.And then just one little move to create a completely abstract image with no hint of sea creatures.Not such a romantic blog as the date would suggest but to my regular blog readers a simple message, thanks for all your comments and feedback.This blog is linked to a social media Instagram project. The prompt for today was #valentinesdaynohearts.https://drawntothevalley.co.uk/I believe Leviathan has a heart. It just needs to find its Sole Mate.
Darwin Day . 12th of February. Charles Darwin, aged 22, spent 2 months in Devonport waiting for HMS Beagle, a survey vessel, to be ready to sail in 1831. He was travelling as a scientist although at the time he was training to be a vicar.
” It was the most miserable time of my life” he claimed .
Training to be a Vicar may have been the problem as Devonport, awas particularly skilled at entertaining young men with time on their hands, money in their pockets and testosterone drenching everything.
Perhaps he was ” keeping himself nice” for a family member. Somewhat ironically the Darwin’s were not averse to Consanguineous marriage.
He may have regretted finding Devonport dull, having set sail on 10 the December bad weather forced them to anchor at Barn Pool, just a mile or so west of Devonport, for a week with nothing more exciting to do than look at Devils Point.
Yesterday was the end of my week long ‘shift’ running the Instagram account of an Artist Collective in South West England. Drawn to the Valley is a collaborative support network and promotional organisation based in the Tamar Valley, a beautiful and often overlooked part of Devon and Cornwall. The members of the group work in and are inspired by vastly different landscapes and environments. The maritime port of Plymouth forms the distinctive Southern point of the group’s territory. The point where the River Tamar flows into the Hamoaze, Plymouth Sound and then finally flows into the Atlantic . In keeping with the mythic and folkloric emergence of any river the Northern boundary is less definite. Unromantically I would say somewhere in the post code EX 20. Specifically of course the Tamar arises out of the ground at Woolley Moor, Morewenstow.
The area has many significant titles relating to Geography, History and Aesthetics.
UNESCO World Heritage Site
Throughout human history the area has been exploited for minerals. It has a unique archaeologicaly significant mining heritage stretching from the Bronze Age to the present time.
European Special Area of Conservation.
Site of Special Scientific Interest
Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty
The last category is represented by the Tamar Valley AONB. Drawn to the Valley has a particularly close association with this organisation
The Makers and Artists in this group are as diverse as the landscape in which they work.
Social Media is a valuable tool in keeping this diverse group of artists aware of what they are doing as individuals or groups but also and perhaps more significantly it is the group’s everyday shout out to the world.
Social Media has been a ‘thing’ for 27 years. It attracts bad press,deservedly, because like everything it is fallible.
But in benign hands for arts organisations it is invaluable. Persuading individual members of this can be a hard sell in any artistic community. As a group we run workshops and support groups to encourage our 160 + members to launch themselves safely and confidently into the Social Media Pond.
Which rather circuitously but hugely importantly brings me to the title of this blog.
I’ve been associated with the Tamar Valley for a large portion of my adult life and have only just learnt that River Tamar is the correct term for the river and area I’m talking about. Whilst #tamarriver is a completely different place in Tasmania.
This week the Festival of Light has been supplied by the sun in the early morning. Rust is one of my favourite textures, coupled with winter sun the effect is dramatic.
These photographs were taken at Queen Anne’s Battery in Plymouth. They are all bits of fishing gear that were being stored on the harbourside.
The manhole covers were also getting in on the act.
Our visit to Jacka today was enhanced by festive baking. We weren’t exactly early birds, but were lucky enough to get there in time to get the last available slice of Stolen and one of their lusciously deep mince pies. Coffee drinking at Jacka this morning was hugely sociable . The coffee hounds Hugo and Lola were treated to snippets of delicious bacon from a generous benefactor while everyone at the various tables were talking to one another.
As this is a second Advent visit to Jacka I thought I would share some of the bakeries history . Gleaned from a 1985 published article displayed on the café wall .
Dated currently back to 1597, Jacka is the oldest working Bakery in Britain. It is said that it supplied Ships Biscuits to the Mayflower in 1620. Ships biscuits from this bakery were still famous worldwide well into the twentieth century.
Todays festive bakes were tastier than any Ships biscuit. Time to roll out the the word ‘ moist’ . The festive season is known for its traditional foods. In Britain moistness is demanded of Christmas cakes and Turkey. Today we added a third moist festive eating experience.
Bakery made Stollen , as far removed from the supermarket stuff as it is possible to be. A generous core of deep yellow marzipan surrounded by jewel fruited,doughy loveliness , gently dusted with icing sugar. The mince pie, no less lovely, had a deep, golden pastry case filled with dried fruits, quenched to plumpness and topped with a pastry star.
The coffee, as is usual at Jacka was made with great beans by a skillful barrista.