On a rainy mid-autumn morning I set the Art Filter on my Olympus E-M10 II to Key Line, to give a solid-colour pop art look to my photographs. I like the reflections on the wet roads but Blackburn’s Florists and Darling Reads’ bookshop provide some welcome bursts of colour on the High Street, as do the Handyman Supplies and The Green Berry on Queen Street. The phone box has been converted to an art gallery but currently, due to restrictions, there’s no show in there. Social distancing is impossible in a phone box.
In the swinging sixties film Blow-Up, photographer David Hemmings goes into his local park with his SLR and encounters some suspicious characters. So very like my visit to Illingworth Park, Ossett, this morning.
I set the Art Filter on my Olympus E-M10 II to ‘grainy film’ and it really has got the look that I remember from my photography course at Batley School of Art in the 1960s.
Since lockdown began I’ve taken hundreds of photographs on my new iPhone, which has got me back into photography, but I’ve neglected my regular camera, an Olympus E-M10 Mark II DSLR, so I thought I’d make a point going back to learning a bit more about it. Since I last used it there’s been a software update, so I experimented with the filters in Olympus Workspace. This is the Key Line art filter with an added blue cast. I like the effect; it reminds me of my experiments in photography on my Foundation Course at Batley School of Art. In the print studio someone put the four Richard Avedon portraits of The Beatles on the wall. The psychedelic pop-art effects Avedon used were similar to this Key Line filter, but he must have achieved the effect without the help of computers.
A friend has asked me if I still have any paintings for sale. I haven’t had an exhibition for more than twenty years but I do have framed paintings from that time, so here is a selection.
Prices on request.
Seaside Daisy, Erigeron glaucus
Toadflax, canal towpath, 1987
Janet’s Foss, Malham, 1987
Les Tas des Pois d’Amont (Pea Stacks), Guernsey
Red Grouse, 1986
Otter, 1985
Rabbits, from my children’s book, ‘Deep in the Wood’
Grey Squirrels, from my children’s book, ‘Deep in the Wood’
Watercolours and pen and watercolour wash, from the 1980s
As you can see, I’m really missing my occasional trips to London. Just before lockdown we’d been planning a Thames-side walk from Bushey Park to Greenwich Park, meeting up with friends at various stages, including Alistair, who celebrated his birthday at the weekend, hence this card.
My latest homemade birthday card is for my great nephew Zach. It celebrates the home movies that my brother, sister and I made in the days of Standard 8 cine. As you can see, Bill took the action roles, often at risk to life and limb, with my sister guest starring as the ‘Hostile Alien’, ‘The Thing’ and, no doubt hoping to break out of being typecast, a World Security agent scanning the skies for invaders from outer space.
Our friends were regularly in the cast, launching flying machines and hatching dastardly plots for world domination. Mostly we filmed in our garden; the rhubarb patch made a suitably lush jungle but for a more dramatic setting we headed for the local quarry.
But we did consider health and safety. I remember us discussing the possibility that our flying machine might overshoot and end up crashing down onto the railway line. In the event it plummeted vertically downwards when we launched it from the top of Horbury Quarry although I stood well back when filming, just in case.
Another character from the Do You Say . . . ? ‘poem’ and all that I really know about ‘de Z cow’ is that she’s been known to ‘utter’ the occasional ‘grouse’. Could it be that she’s rather proud of her ancestry? If she really is ‘de Zeeland’ that’s not so far from Freisland, so she could be a pedigree Holstein Friesian.
More likely ‘DeZee’ is a randomly generated name-tag number and she probably usually gets called ‘Daisy’. I have a feeling that she won’t like that.
Wakefield Naturalists’ September field trip to St Aidans.
We’ve been saddened to hear of the untimely death of a member of Wakefield Naturalists’ Society, Karen Nicklin, who also – as in my cartoon – volunteered at the RSPB St Aidan’s reserve.
“As a really keen walker and hiker, Karen spent time planning and undertaking walks that combined nature and the landscape and I remember well the talk she gave recently at our members’ evening when she wowed us with views of the spectacular scenery and wild flowers from a recent trek in the Austrian Alps.”
John Gardner, President, Wakefield Naturalists’ Society, wakefieldnaturalists.org
It’s just three weeks ago that we last saw her on that pre-‘Rule of Six’ Naturalists’ field trip to St Aidan’s. As she served me a socially-distanced shade-grown coffee (shade-grown saves trees) afterwards, I asked her what the news was from the Loch Garten ospreys. She replied that, because of Covid, she’d missed out on volunteering there for the first time since 2004. She told me that she hadn’t even managed to add an osprey on her year list. She was obviously missing them, and we’ll miss her.
At the request of my sister, a character from the poem in yesterday’s post. As you might remember, Castro Rabbit appears in the final verse and, as far as I can understand it, he operates in ‘the meadow deep in the world squirrels’, so he’s got to be a bit of a tough cookie, surrounded by all those bright-eyed and bushy-tailed rodents.
I’m convinced that he has some connection with a scam involving ‘rattlebox-free shoes’, which gets a cryptic mention in verse 3.
Verse 1 sounds like the kind of hard-baked pulp-fiction dialogue he’d use, with more than a hint of a threat in it:
“Yeah, I know, but that is on the list, down there in the bulkhead . . . and it’s not that ‘cauliflower’.”
Castro Rabbit, ‘Do you say . . .’, verse 1.
But I think the line that he’s delivering here is: “Roger I’ll flax.”
A ‘flax’ must be the Squirrel Meadow equivalent of a fax, and as we’re veering towards Toon characters, Roger must be Roger Rabbit.
I’m looking forward to learning more about de Zee Cow, the one known for uttering the occasional grouse in verse 3.
The Alicante is supposed to be flamenco dancing. It’s difficult to get a tomato to look convincingly as if its flamenco dancing. I decided to limit the props for each variety to footwear. Obviously Tigerella has got those tiger feet.
The greenhouse looks like a jungle that has been lashed by tropical storm but we’ve never had a better year for tomatoes. As I was drawing the bowl of our beef and small plum tomatoes, I tried to draw each as an individual character. The calyx – the little crown of bracts – on each tomato was rather like a top-knot, which got me thinking about making them into cartoon characters.
