The kitchen is full of smells - the surfaces are littered with the debris of a meal half cooked. There are mouths to be fed in five hours time - such is the pressure of Christmas lunch.
But I chanced to look out of the window and saw that the sun had fallen out of the sky.
Being a dedicated cook I reached for my camera and grabbed a shot from the bedroom window to share with you.
A stolen monet ( that was supposed to say moment but hell Monet would have loved this too :-) ) - Whistler would have named it something musical...
Christmas Day, 2008. No wind. Far warmer than it ought to be - but hushed and calm and a promise that the days will lengthen from now on and with the return of the light there will be hope of better days to come.
After the storm - comes the distilling and out of that percolated... a lighthouse painting. I shall do more. I feel the return of the painting bug... just in time for the hols :-)
A rare opportunity presented itself at life class tonight - twin sisters. Twice the pleasure I thought. Twice the work of course - but an opportunity I would like to repeat. Interesting thing is - as soon as you put more than one body in a drawing - a narrative sets up - we are programmmed to have them interact in some way I guess.
Oil pastel base - just to take the scariness of the white away - then drawn into with pencil.Figure 1 - five mins, figures 2 and 3 fifteen mins each - and figure 4 - 30 mins. Thanks girls - challenging but fun - and nothing makes the time disappear like drawing.
This woman lies like this on the beach every time I visit her - skirts up around her waist. No shame.
She's just asking to be... painted.
Sundays are built for this.
Yes, the weather was shite. Yes the location was not my number one choice of destination for a half term break. Yes, there were unexpected costs - financial and emotional. But - amid all the sleet and neon slot-machine tack - there were some photo opportunities.
On the promenade - no it's not a verb - in England we have wonderful coastal defence promenades on which one can indeed promenade, and at Blackpool there are some delightful and intriguing sea front sculptures and installations. This one projects high into the sky like the rusting perescope of a Nemoesque submarine. It decays eloquently in the elements flung at it from the Irish Sea. At high tide the movement of the wind and waves underneath cause it to vibrate like some giant harmonica and it emits wondrous sounds - as well as striking all my happy chords when I see rusting metal.
This one below also had an aural element. It recorded the sound of the wind blowing through the cleverly etched strips of metal - a feast for the eyes and ears.
You're seeing a kinda arty wire mesh curved fence whose surface is so engineered as to reveal an underwater scene. Behind said sculpture, which is by the way, about, 12 feet by fifteen feet, is the real Blackpool sky and sea and fence. Clever stuff huh?
And what made my photographic meal complete was the chance discovery on a sunrise walk along the prom - of my old friend - a squire padlock - nay - two! Both deliciously rusted and decayed. What more could I ask. Okay - let's not go there :-)
Not me obviously - or else I wouldn't be blogging. Just my phone. It rained so hard on us in Britain's tackiest coastal resort that my phone drowned in my pocket. Alas it is no more. Insured yes, - but I pay the first £25. Just before I left for the holiday - my router packed in. New one - £45. Car had to be fixed too - exhaust bracket and fuel pump - £30.
You see the theme developing here?
Lots of little bads.
All soon to be put into perspective.
I was in Blackpool cos I wanted to support my little brother at his army reunion do. Okay he's bigger than me but you get the picture. He supports me in all kinds of ways throughout the year and I - well... I wanted to do this thing for him.
He served in the Gulf War in the 80s. Back then I was naive enough to think soldiers were, in part, war mongers. Directionless young men who - for want of no better ideas for a career path, joined the army to see the world and be paid for it.
I am ashamed of those thoughts now. I feel honoured to have been part of the reunion - if only in a transport capacity.
After Blackpool we travelled further south so he could overnight with a couple of army buddies and on the way we stopped off at the National Memorial - an aboretum; dedicated to all those who have lost their lives in the service of their country since the end of the Second World War.
To say it was an eye opener would be akin to saying the Two Towers suffered a little damage on 9/11.
It was a very poignant visit. The icy wind and biting sleet seemed appropriate - even if it made photography all but impossible. We were in part wrapped in the curved arms of the the huge limestone wall, bearing the evergrowing list of names of the war dead. While Barry struggled with the elements to grab some shots a horrible thing occurred to me.
I couldn't voice it until we were back in the warmth of the cafe.
Tris has decided to join the army. My son.
I have to confess to you that if there was only one job in the world I would like him not to do - this would be it. I confessed to Barry that I wondered if I might be visiting the National Memorial for war dead at some point in the future for reasons I can't fully make myself think about. He rightly told me not to be daft. I hope it is daft.
It certainly makes fretting about bills for routers and cars and fripparies feel very daft.
Perspective.
It's important to keep it.
Seems like some days, some seasons, are about waiting for things to happen - a limbo time.
What with the surreal death of our mum this summer - maybe little bro and I just needed some time-out. We went back to a place from our youth when we'd stay late on the beach and light fires and feel free.
We talked about other times on the beach with mum and how we'd spend whole days of our holidays simply being there. Swimming, messing in the rock pools, swimming, eating those ubiquitous egg and tomato sandwiches, followed by enforced resting - what mum said went, then more swimming and wave jumping and sibling burying and enforced dressing after the sun went down and all sensible day trippers had gone home... well you get the picture. Somehow a fire induces all those rich sun-filled days.
Thank you mum.
It rained yesterday.
It rained today.
It is forecast to rain tomorrow.
