First Time

I am at my first fair. I was going to say craft fair, but it's not. It's Voluntary Service Aberdeen's Spring Fayre at Easter Anguston, just west of Peterculter on the outskirts of Aberdeen. There are about 10 of us with stalls - from jewellery to pegbags. It is proving to be an interesting experience. I am learning a lot and my smile muscles have not had such a good workout in a long time. Meeting some lovely people. A grand day out so far, in spite of the rather changeable weather.
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Something New

I have been neglecting this blog and for that I am sorry.  I have been busy with all sorts of things, including building my very own website.  Not from scratch, of course, but using a website-building toolkit.  Or whatever you call it.  I am nearly happy with it; it is nearly ready for human consumption.  To be honest, I will probably never be completely happy with it, so I am starting to spread the word about it.  Or the URL.  Of course, a website is not a static thing, a thing of perfection and beauty and all things to all people.  To try to make it so would be the way to madness.  So I have made something that I hope will work.  The aim is to provide a hub, a place from which you can find all the strands of the things that I do, that I create.  The paintings, the photographs and the writing.  The bits that interest you.  Eventually the blog over there will take over from this one here.  I don't intend to try to keep up two blogs. Let's face it, I can hardly maintain one.

The other thing I have been up to (I have been doing two things only?  Really?) is taking part in a Virtual Open Mic session, happening today. Hosted by Inky Fingers in Edinburgh. Being virtual, it doesn't matter that this is the case, of course.  And that I am in Aberdeen. There are two more episodes to come.  I've really enjoyed reading other folk's pieces and watching the videos some of them have posted.  A lovely range of work, from flash fiction to poetic prose to witty things in Scots. I think I would have enjoyed hearing them read out loud though.  That's where the videos work well. I guess that's the point of an open mic session. Maybe I will summon up the courage to venture along to a real live session before too long.  In the meantime, I'm off to read Episode 5.

The Walk

The walk - a trail of tiny white
pigeon feathers,
Lichen and
Sodden beech leaves
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Planning a Painting

I have this photograph, which I took on a recent trip to the west Highlands, as the background image on my mobile phone at the moment. I've done one sketch of it, plan to do some more tomorrow. I might even manage an actual painting. Decaying corrugated iron roofs seem to hold a certain fascination for me.
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Christmas Promises

This is a bit of a rant, written about this time last year.

Really, the stuff they use to catch your eye on the front of magazines these days is unbelievable.  Truly unbelievable.  And I don’t mean the magazines on the top shelf, either.  That’s a topic for another day.  Maybe.  No, I mean all the promises they give you, shouting in block capitals, red letters, bold typescript.  Some real ones on a magazine I actually subscribe to (but won’t be for much longer) actually say “668 ways to celebrate” and “48 fab new festive recipes”.  Perhaps you can guess which edition these were in.  Just in case you’ve not twigged yet, also included were “Turkey and all the trimmings in just 2 hours!” and “5 minutes to fabulous”.  Indeed. If only it were that simple.  I thought it took at least a week to recover from a facelift?  And surely it takes 24 hours to defrost a turkey?  

So, these promises got me thinking.  Of some alternative, equally outlandish ones.  That promise the earth and deliver nothing.  Or just make us more stressed than we were before we read them.  Some I came up with were “999 presents for you to buy in 30 minutes!”  “88 ways to get rid of bingo wings!”  69 reasons not to get out of bed in the morning” “24 lists to help you plan each hour of the day” and “3 minutes to spare? Ideas to fill them!”

What was most enlightening was comparing the cover stories of the aforementioned magazine with the December issue for this time last year, of a well-known men’s magazine.  The words “festive”, “turkey” and “celebrate” were completely absent.  There was only one tiny reference to “Xmas”.  In fact some of the headlines were “53 tips for building beer-proof Abs”, “Burn Fat Fast – lose 2 inches in 3 weeks!” (although that might put some guys off if they didn’t read it properly), “Sex on Demand! – Get What You Want Every Time”.  The two most amazing claims were – “Sleep Better, Live Forever” which I thought was a tad of a big promise, and “How to make £250,000 in just 10 months”.  The only teensy festive reference was “Free!  Her Xmas Gear Guide – Save Time and Effort Getting it Right”.  Well, that just about sums it up, doesn’t it?  She’s busy making 48 different festive concoctions in the kitchenette and he’s out buying her something to wear on the back of his motorbike/inappropriate underwear/a new box of tools in as little time as possible before dashing to the gym to tone his beer-gut, spending an hour on the phone talking to some weird person about making pots of money and then going to bed at 7pm so he’ll never die. 

So, what are the messages being received in these two cases?  As I see it, and you may see it very differently, I realise, women are being told to slave their butts off over the festive period while men are allowed to completely ignore it, save a quick dash to the shops on Christmas Eve to get some “gear” for his other half.  Although how men who read these magazines actually have other halves, is beyond me.  Ah, there’s the rub.  They probably don’t.  That’s the point.  They are for single men, who go home to Mummy for Christmas, since she’s been out and bought her magazine (or maybe her daughter-in-law gave her an annual subscription to it) and has made all those scrumptious-looking things that there are pictures of inside.  In between the pages of beauty advice and health problems and adverts that look like real articles, but are not.    And there’s that word “gear”.  I don’t know about you, but it conjures up drugs to me.  Either that or leathers for wearing on a motorbike.  It just doesn’t sound much like something a woman might like to receive – like a piece of art, a booking for a spa mini-break, perfume, chocolates, something tasteful to wear or even a beautiful piece of jewellery now, does it?  No.  But maybe that’s manspeak for those things.  Who knows?  I sure as heck don’t.

 

And now a calming photograph from when it was snowy last week.

 

Fruition

It's been a busy but enjoyable week.  I don't want to spend much longer on my computer, so this will be short and hopefully sweeter than the plums on my plum tree.

 

 

I've met lots of interesting and interested folk; everyone has a story to tell. We are all innately fascinated by each other, I think.  That's about it, really.  Many little seeds have been sown - ideas for stories and paintings and projects.  And ways of doing things better next year.  People have come and admired things that I have made, and that feels good.  It is good to be adding to the sum total of human happiness.  This is, someone once told me, what life is all about. 

 

 

Inspiration

Today has been spent out and about, looking at art in all its guises.  I just noticed that word "spent". It really has been spent, hasn't it?  Gone forever now.  I'm happy to say I believe I spent it fruitfully, which is not always true.  May that be a lesson to keep with me.  That all sounds very serious - maybe because I am tired after my day gadding about the countryside.  I went prepared today, with a picnic lunch. 

I went south today, heading straight for Old Portlethen, where it did what it said on the tin.  A warm welcome awaited (as it says in the catalogue) at the home and studio of David and Jane Pettigrew.  Over a hundred pieces of artwork adorned the walls of their home and studio, as well as the corridor that joins them.  They obviously work quite happily in the spaces within their home.  I know that I am not tidy enough to be able to do that.  We spoke for quite a long while, about materials and methods, Italy and Manhattan, washing and textures.  Have a look at the website and you will understand why washing (as in washing-line) featured in our conversation.  Before I left, we went to look out over the sea from their cliff-top perch.  What a magical place to live and work.

Stonehaven is always a good place for a picnic and today was no exception.  Everyone else seemed to have the same idea - the esplanade beside the excellent fish and chip shop and tempting ice cream shop was chockablock with cars.  I regretted not taking the dogs with me for an outing, as I would then have had a brisk walk along the beach.  As it was, I slothed in the car, munching and listening to the radio. 

Gallery at Fifty Five has not been open very long.  It is on the main street in Stonehaven.  Three painters are exhibiting there just now; one is the gallery owner, who paints in watercolour.  The other two were very bright and vivid, real splashes of colour.  There is such a variety of work on display during NEOS.

Thereafter I zoomed down the coast road to Catterline, to the Old Schoolhouse.  Combine harvesters worked away in the fields as I sped past.  Again, a wide range of work was on show.  I don't know about you, but I prefer to wend my own way through an exhibition and don't particularly like being told which "end" to start at.  Nor do I like heavily scented candles filling the air with a smog of perfume.  But that's just me.  I'm sure loads of people love it.  Perhaps it works in the same way as having background music playing.  If there is a familiar tune playing, or one which evokes good memories or assocations, is one more likely to make a purchase? Maybe it works the same way with our sense of smell.  Interesting.

The Phoenix Hall at Newton Dee has several artists exhibiting together.  I could not recall having seen any of Catherine Imhof-Cardinal's work before, but I was very taken with it.  So much so that I bought a book about it!  Chatted with Alison Davidson about her work, too, and discovered that she runs classes locally.  Debbie Neill is also exhibiting there - I studied her paintings with interest, as I've signed up for one of her workshops next month.

The last stop of the day was at Mill Farm, near Kemnay - Susie Hunt's studio, where a talented group of folk are exhibiting together (and having a rare old time as well, by all accounts).   Here I was offered a very welcome cup of tea and even a fancy piece (or two).  That's something I have been doing - offering a cuppa and homebakes.  It usually goes down a treat.  I know from my touring experiences, not just this year, but over the past few years, that it is really tiring trekking round the countryside looking at art.  Yes, it is.  Really.  I know that my senses get overloaded, especially the visual, so regular sustenance is required.  (How does that work, exactly?).  That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.  The only problem can be that, having partaken of sustenance of a liquid variety, loo stops are inevitably required.  So, when planning your NEOS route, do try to ensure that both of these needs are met.  Preferably in the same location, without having to pay 20p (as I had to do; Stonehaven, you know where you are!). 

So, the last stop.  Lots of chat with Morag McGee, who explained how raku firing works; I want to see it in action now, having smelt a piece that was done yesterday.  I should have worn my "Fit Like" earrings that I bought from her last year... maybe that would have been a bit obvious.   I sifted through a box of lovely pen and ink drawings by Gabi Reith and found a beautiful one which appealed to me straight away. "Posh Bird" came home with me; I will need to find a suitable frame for her.  There's also lovely jewellery on display in the studio, from fused glass to acrylic and found materials.  And some interesting photographs.  Just as well I haven't started my Christmas shopping yet.  But some seeds of ideas were planted.

The light today was not as fantastic as two days ago, so I took very few photographs.  This was what caught my eye just a little way up a farm track not far east of Dunecht.

 

I like to think that was my sixth venue of the day.  The smell of the freshly cut wood was amazing.  If only these were scratch and sniff photographs.  While I was packing up to leave the track, a chap arrived in dark coloured estate car and parked a little way further up.  I wondered if he was going to tell me off for lurking amongst the woodpile.  I had been very careful not go to near, heeding the warning signs not to climb on top of them.  But no, he proceeded to shin over the wall and up on to the pile of thickest trunks.  He took out a tape measure and measured at least one of them, lengthwise.  I didn't like to stare too hard.  He looked as if he knew what he was doing, was meant to be there.  Probably a forestry chappie, I thought, though he wore a navy fleece, not a dark green one.  My mind set to wondering; perhaps he was going to hollow a canoe out of one of the large logs, and needed to know if it was wide enough?  Or was he a log rustler?  Is there such a thing as a log rustler? And are they called that? 

Enough already.  It's been a long but interesting day.  Plenty of food for thought.