Common Objects

watercolours

It’s good to have a new sketchbook and to have an aim in mind. Alongside my fantasy pen illustrations for the Mattias Adolfsson’s course, I also need to draw everyday objects, which will be my starting point for more imaginative drawings.

clinometer

Objects do have a character, a life of their own. This selection from my drawer includes a homemade clinometer, used to measure the angle of dip of strata, which dates back to when I was taking an A-level in geology, but didn’t have the funds to treat myself to the real thing. I bought a cheap plastic geometry set from the Eagle Press in Wakefield, stuck the protractor to an offcut of hardboard from an unfinished acrylic painting and added a plumb line made from a thread with a small nut attached. The larger compass-like instrument in the foreground is a map measurer. It’s so much easier to plan routes for walks in these days; I’m spoilt for choice for digital maps, the Ordnance Survey is my current favourite.

micro cassette

Despite all the advances in technology my Olympus Pearlcorder microcassette recorder still has its uses. Yesterday I recorded a list of plants as we walked along between the hedges of a sunken lane. It was a cool morning but I can operate the Pearlcorder even with my gloves on. In contrast, when I’m using my iPhone, which I love, as a camera I still occasionally brush against some peripheral icon and end up getting a screen with my Twitter feed and messages on it. The Pearlcorder has reassuringly chunky buttons.

brushes

When I left art college and set myself up in my first flat, I decided that anything that I bought – for instance a bread knife, a bowl or a bread knife – had to be practical but also drawable, which for me meant the sort of object you might see in a storybook. So instead of going for the latest shiny designer teapot with its chrome and pyrex, I would go for the traditional brown ceramic version. The veg brush on the right has my ideal combination practicality and drawability and it we bought it at what must surely be the most design-conscious retail outlet in the Peak District: the shop at the David Mellor cutlery factory at Hathersage. Look forward to visiting it again after the lockdown.

mugs

Crafts

embroidery
bag

Finally, here are a couple of Barbara’s lockdown craft creations: a tote bag using curtaining material from a bag of remnants from the much-missed Skopos in Batley and, a new venture for her, an embroidery based on some natural forms she’s been drawing recently.

Ness Island

WE WALK along the towpath beside the Caledonian Canal for a lunch break at the café at the Floral Hall then return to the centre of town via the footbridges to Ness Islands. I draw the standing waves at the upstream tip of the first island. It’s like sitting at the prow of a ship. Anglers stand waist deep in the river.

Giant Sequoia

At the downstream end of the second, longer island, there’s a large Wellingtonia or Giant Sequoia, Sequoiadendron giganticum, with drooping lower branches which make an effective umbrella when there’s a passing shower.

The reddish bark feels slightly spongy which must provide effective insulation from winter frosts and from the forest fires that occasionally sweep through the tree’s native habitat on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada in California.

Each leaf scale is 2 or 3 millimetres long

Looking up into the branches (top photograph) it appears as if the tree has long slender needles like a pine or fir but if you look closely the leaves are scale-like, as seen in this photograph of a dry twig (they’re green when fresh) that I’ve taken with a low-power microscope.

The Top of the Tree


Sequoias can grow to 50 metres but how tall is this specimen?

I made a rudimentary clinometer using my hand lens (which hangs on a loop of string) as my plumb-line to establish the vertical and the long edge of my sketchbook, held to my eye, to point at the top of the tree, marking the vertical across the inside back cover of the sketchbook.

I measured the distance to the tree as 76 lengths of my hiking boots and added another four lengths to get me near the centre of the tree, which was probably an underestimate. Because the ground fell away sharply at one side I was unable to measure the girth of the trunk.

By drawing out the angle to the horizontal and the baseline distance to scale (right), I can measure the height as 96 hiking boot lengths so that’s 96 x 34 centimetres (they’re big boots, but very lightweight!); that’s 3264 cm, making the Sequoia approximately 32.64 metres tall, about 107 feet.

Errors include the gentle slope of the ground down to the river and my eye being about 1.8 metres above ground level but those two probably cancel each other out. Also from such an oblique angle I couldn’t actually see the top of the tree.