The guacemole that saved the day

on the way to somewhere

Another month goes by.

Words unwritten.

Trips to Canada to catch up with family, and nothing to write home about.

The land of rock and trees, water and puffy white clouds.

We took a ferry to Mayne island. The catalogue of disasters that befell youngest child in his attempts to join us were the stuff of a gripping movie. One that you wouldn't wish to see. Other people's travel disasters are really not that interesting, except when they might be about to miss the ferry.

We all made the ferry, by means not originally intended, and breathed a sigh of relief.

ferry to Mayne Island

The weather was kind.

We passed islands , trees and water.

More trees.

And more water.

water under the ferry

We stayed in a house by the seashore, and watched the ferries pass by in the distance, making their way between the islands, sounding their horns as they went..

It was idyllic.


We saw families of geese, and seals playing in the harbour.

'look'

We found jellyfish in rock pools.

Swam in the sea,

ate cake,

collected sticks, made fires ( some of us needed more matches than others, not having been given basic camp-fire building education in the highlands of Scotland where only one match was allowed).

how not to build a fire

And we went to the May fair, which was an extraordinarily joyful affair, with fancy dress, music and maypole dancing.

fancy hat contestant

maypole procession, Mayne Island

the queen and her followers

May Queen, Mayne Island

the maypole, Mayne Island

None of which I really wanted to write about.

The words just wouldn't come, and it was a private, family time.


But changes are afoot back home. OH ( my other half)  has had a slight change of diet, for 'health' reasons.

No more bacon and eggs for breakfast. No more smoke filled kitchen EVERY MORNING FOR THE LAST 10 YEARS.

We now share a box of muesli and fresh fruit. Oh joy.

The house smells so much more pleasant.



Last week the weather was beautiful. OH prepared a BBQ. Luckily there were no guests.

Delicious, totally burnt chicken. And other meats for OH of course.

I despaired once more.


BUT NOT FOR LONG.

Last night night I came home from London after a day of visiting and sitting on trains and found a meal prepared for me,

with ......

HOME MADE GUACAMOLE.

I nearly fell off my perch.

Not a plastic carton in sight ( almost)

No meat involved. Fresh coriander and chilli.

100% delicious.

Now that was worth putting fingers to keyboard for!





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beaver lake in spring

rhododendrons, vancouver style.

The Big Draw - in which I set down my camera and take up a twig in the spirit of Dave Mckean

twigs

The Big Draw is over.

The Big Draw describes itself as the worlds' largest drawing festival, and the theme this year was 'Every drawing tells a story"

At Rye Creative Centre we had the privilege to hear from Dave Mckean , artist and illustrator, about his work. He is a man who has produced so much and worked with so many. Illustrations, film, photographs, comic books. Having worked with Richard Dawkins and Hester Blumenthal amongst many, he has stories to tell. Not least, the secret of Hester's hot and cold tea; which he very properly didn't give away.

Someone else has done that for him if you really want to know...... though personally I suspect that, like magic tricks, it is more fun if the secret remains untold.



I  was particularly taken with his photographic works that were on show in the gallery.

Dream like. Clever.

Full of ideas.

Telling stories.....

Dave Mckean at Rye creative cente

Dave Mckean at Rye Creative Centre

The idea behind 'The Big Draw' was, obviously,  to get people drawing.

So that's what we did.

My thanks go to Stephanie Rubin , resident artist at Rye Creative Centre and talented sculptor for setting up a life drawing class with a  difference.

We had a four stage process, designed to prevent us getting 'precious'  about our way of working.


First; take charcoal

Charcoal

Do 'loose' drawing

Next........take stick and ink

stick

ink

Do a bit more work on the shapes, shadows and lines.

The add some light bits with white emulsion applied with a piece of orange peel .

Then wish you had ignored this stage as it all gets messy and wet, and can't be rubbed out with a  finger.

white emulsion

And finally add some red ink with another stick in a loose and liberated way.

red ink

painting sticks

The subject matter involved red velvet, some ancient cattle skulls and a lovely Italian lady who can sit so still that you might forget she is alive.

velvet drapery

now you see why I prefer photography

The story I am 'telling' is about a beautiful girl in a red dress and long dark tresses who falls in love with a skull that has accidentally morphed into a giant prawn. She is holding its tentacle firmly in the hope that it will keep still while everyone else is busy drawing and telling a story about beautiful girl holding an antler. The effort of holding the tentacle is making her look really weird.

Anyway. I tried.

And I understand what Dave McKean was saying about how you only really see something properly when you draw it.

A click of the camera is a totally different way of seeing;......... 'transient'......... 'momentary'.

And yet......... I remember intimately the places where I have spent time sitting thinking about where to make those clicks. Watching the light. Exploring the ground. Thinking about shapes, patterns and mood.

I'll stick to the clicks. But those bits of charcoal are oh, so tempting.......

charcoal

All I need now is some paper.