living on bridlington time
half-eaten
untitled #30
for no one knows his dying day
you're living all over me
sister
untitled #19
shelf life
sunday graphic
fell into the sea
Hello, my lovelies!
I'm ever so sorry for the radio silence! It's been a manic week or more, and I'm desperately trying to catch up at the moment.
Please bear with me over the next couple of weeks while I'm completing two more kitteh-sitting gigs and working from the laptops of my clients.
I'm fortunate to own a 27" 4K iMac, but I'm currently working from a standard 27" monitor and a 13.3" Macbook Air screen. Neither of which are calibrated. So apologies if things look awry (though I'm sure I'll notice the issues more than you!)
My current wards are two devastatingly cute but mischievous characters who are only five months and one year old, respectively. So they require more wrangling and attention than my last gaolers. As a consequence, it's taken me a while to get myself back on track after relocating last Thursday afternoon, even though I'm only an hour's commute from my home.
After a false start at the beginning of September, I now finally have an excellent new flatmate joining me on 1 November, so the past week has been busy with the admin required to make that official.
I also spent a chunk of last week completing some design work for a client.
And I managed to sneak in a self-portrait shoot in the second bedroom in my flat before it becomes occupied again. I look forward to sharing some of those with you in the coming weeks! It's shocking that I've lived in the flat for about five and a half years but had not managed to shoot in there until recently because it was almost always someone else's space. And when it wasn't, I was away from home.
I also have quite a few self-portraits remaining to share with you from my time in Shepherd's Bush.
I may manage some self-portraits in my current location in Wandsworth. But I'll have to see how confident I feel about putting my camera and tripod at the mercy of two kitties prone to cutting laps in hot pursuit of each other.
I'm also hoping to get out and about one day this week to explore the local and Battersea areas.
My next kitteh-sitting gig - starting straight after this one - will take me to Wales! My first time back in another of my ancestral countries since 2001!
That holds the promise of potential self-portraits but also the opportunity to explore the area a little. And the company of two "furry idiots" I've been assured are low maintenance but prone to bringing "gifts" to their owners in the form of moles and mice (another potential photo opportunity for me, of course!)
Meanwhile, tonight I'm sharing a full-length photo of the grave at the Holy Trinity Church in Bosham I shared in a previous post, going overboard. The inscription aroused quite a lot of interest across my social media accounts a couple of weeks ago when I shared it there.
It reads:
In Memory of
THOMAS son of Richard and Ann
BARROW, Master of the sloop Two
Brothers who by the Breaking of the
Horse fell into the sea & was Drown'd
October the 13th 1759. Aged 23 years.
Tho Boreas's Storms and Neptune's waves
have tos'd me to and fro
Yet I at length by God's decree
am harbour'd here below
Where at an Anchor here I lay
with many of our Fleet
Yet once again I shall set Sail
my Saviour Christ to meet.
layer upon layer
Today was a good day.
Scott and I explored the New River (neither new nor a river) from Hornsey to Finsbury Park and took a lot of photographs.
One of my favourite ways to spend a Friday. Or any day, really.
september reflections
It's been a very mixed three to four weeks.
About a month ago, I predicted September would be a month of impermanence. At the time, I thought that due to being temporarily in residence with two kittehs on the other side of town.
Instead, it ended up feeling more like a month of constant minor upheavals.
On only my second full day in Shepherd's Bush, I had to return to my own flat to meet a fellow assessing maintenance to be done. Later in the month, I had to return two days in a row to be around while the maintenance was completed.
I was generally okay with this, as it was expected, and I knew I'd have to pop back once or twice a week to water my plants anyway.
However, when I relocated to be a live-in cat nanny, I was relieved I wouldn't have to schlep back and forth across town for flat viewings, after all. I believed I had a lovely new flatmate lined up to move in the day after I returned from Shepherd's Bush and could concentrate my time in the West on photography, cats and client work.
Unfortunately, by the fifth full day, it became apparent that my potential flatmate had gone AWOL midway through the referencing process. So I was unexpectedly thrown back into advertising the room and arranging viewings - with three viewings taking place on two days shortly after.
Between the various visits for maintenance and potential flatmate viewings, there was also a long weekend jaunt down to meet Phil in Chichester. Our trip had been planned months before the cat-sitting gig landed in my lap.
My first actual holiday since returning from Australia in November 2019, I had hoped it would be a chance to escape reality. A long weekend of sightseeing, photography and good conversation.
While it was full of sightseeing, photography and good conversation, I wasn't really able to relax and escape reality. Not with all the other things constantly throwing my days into turmoil and minor upheaval on either side of the trip.
Throw in a health scare with my Dad, and September was stressful and exhausting in many ways.
At the other extreme, September had some quite enjoyable moments:
Spending an afternoon entertaining good friends in an actual house and getting to show them all the quirks of my temporary abode.
Spending time and having engaging conversations with the chatty kittehs. They were the perfect distraction when I needed it most during my stay (and the rest of the time).
Having my friend Don just around the corner for late-night rambling chats in person as well as by phone, and even getting to visit his 'bat cave' finally.
Having the chance to explore Chichester, Bosham (pronounced Bozzum), Itchenor (captured above) and Arundel with Phil and our cameras.
Being inspired by art exhibitions and long conversations about art, writing, travel and life.
As previous posts illustrate, I also managed to take my first "proper" self-portraits since June 2018.
Unfortunately, with the aforementioned minor upheavals and other commitments, I didn't have much time. Not nearly enough time to explore the many set-ups and ideas I'd had whirling around my mind before relocating and while I was in situ.
I was also limited by practical issues. Such as the multitude of outfits I had to hand not fitting and not having enough cash to hit up the local charity shops for alternatives.
I was also disappointed not to have had more time to explore the other creative ideas I'd planned to indulge in: collage (physical and digital), sketching, writing, reading, letter-writing, as well as poring over the vast collection of books bursting out of the shelves promising further inspiration.
An actual residency without other concurrent commitments and distractions would have given me more time and freedom. The time and opportunity to indulge my numerous creative ideas and take better advantage of all the quirks the house and its surroundings offer. And even manage some time to relax and fully enjoy the house as well.
Perhaps sometime, the kittehs will have me back for a period of uninterrupted creativity when I better fit into my clothes and my own skin.
For now, though, I already have another kitteh-sitting gig in south London lined up for a week later in the month. I'm not guaranteeing I'll produce self-portraits during my stay there. But it will give me a chance to explore a new (to me) area of London with my camera and befriend some more cute kittehs.
going overboard
jarring
Hello, my lovelies.
I'm so sorry for the radio silence the past week or so.
I have a lot to update you on. And I had hoped, finally, to do so tonight.
But I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment for various reasons. I feel like the kittehs are feeling the same way tonight. Everything feels a little on edge.
Tomorrow is my last full day of cat-sitting. I'll return to my flat sometime on Thursday.
I'm hoping to spend most of tomorrow and perhaps some of Thursday taking self-portraits. Something I've ended up not having very much time for during my stay, unfortunately.
But tonight, as the rain falls, savouring the company of my feline companions feels like the right thing to do.
Where rain is usually my calmative, I'm finding it slightly anxiety-inducing and distracting tonight. It's jarring for someone who loves the sound and smell of rain to feel like this.
his end was peace
It's been a crazy busy few days.
I have so much to tell you.
New friends to introduce you to, as well.
And, hopefully, tomorrow I'll have a new self-portrait to share with you and can share a little of my new assignment with you!
jazz at 11 (accidental portrait of the artist’s parents)
damn paparazzi!
from the stable yard
I ticked quite a few things off my to-do list today but not the major ones I need to. Like cleaning the kitchen and finding new clients, both of which I need to have done "yesterday".
While it was mostly a good day because I closed off some items and stopped to pet Susie on my way back from the high street. Tonight I'm feeling flat.
Finding a flatmate is proving to be as time-consuming and demoralising as trying to find a new flat usually is. I really don't have time for it right now, but I need a new flatmate as soon as humanly possible.
I had lots of energy and focus today for bringing in business and getting more of my work out into the world. But, instead, it had to be channelled into more immediate domestic tasks.
When I could finally sit down to decide what to share today, I perused many possible places from my travels near and far. But it was one of those days when nothing felt right, nothing fit my mood.
Eventually, I settled on this image, which I actually edited back in September 2019 but for some reason hadn't previously shared online.
I took this photo of the entrance to Hatfield House from the stable yard back in July 2019. It reminds me of so many Merchant-Ivory period films.
The image feels like standing on the outside looking in, which feels appropriate to my mood tonight. But also holds the promise of possibility, which will hopefully be my mood on waking tomorrow.
untitled #19
Today was a learning experience: I am not superhuman.
Back out of self-isolation - finally - and feeling like a million bucks, I went ahead with plans made before catching Covid. I ventured into central London to meet Phil to see the Sophie Taeuber-Arp exhibition at Tate Modern.
It was meant to be my first visit to the gallery since 8 March 2020, just before the pandemic started.
Instead, it was a fool's errand.
Double-masking for the Tube journey, by the time I reached Holborn, I knew something was wrong. I started to feel faint after the short walk to the station and about 15 minutes of standing on the train. The cooler air as I came up to the Central line refreshed me a bit. But I grabbed a seat for the two stops to St Paul's.
By the time I got out of St Paul's station, it was a quick call between the Co-op for food or sitting down to avoid falling down.
I went for the latter on a park by the back of St Paul's Cathedral, but then I was too far away from the Co-op to get food and drink to revive myself.
Full disclosure: yesterday was a mess of a day, and in the process, I neglected to eat. I'd had a handful of sour cream and chive pretzels while dressing this morning and thought I'd be okay until I could grab a sandwich at the gallery.
When I realised my predicament, I called Phil to let him know, and I ended up bailing up a passing couple who kindly took some cash from me to buy me a sandwich and a drink. They came back with both plus some fruit. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers!
The food helped but not enough. I realised I couldn't walk 20 minutes from St Paul's to the gallery, let alone 1.5 hours slow-walking around inside the gallery in a mask. As it was, even after finishing the cheddar ploughman sandwich and a third of the cherry 7Up Free, I was struggling not to feel lightheaded standing on the spot.
At that point, I admitted defeat and told Phil to go ahead with the exhibition on his own, and I'd figure out how to get home.
It took me an hour, all told, to get transport.
I managed to get to a nearby Starbucks to use their bathroom. I then tried to head home via the Tube, but as soon as I got down to the platform, it was clearly a massive "nope".
I quickly made my way back up to the street level to try to hail a cab. There were so few of them, and those that passed already had passengers or were on the wrong side of the multi-way intersection I was near.
I sat back on a bench about two over from the one I'd landed on when I came out of the station. I repeatedly swore as I waited for the Uber app to download, and I went through the process of setting up an account. Finally, I was able to book a car to collect me.
The seven minutes to arrival felt like the longest seven minutes ever. I had a feeling of pressure on the back of my ears and across the back of my head, indicating I was perilously close to fainting. I couldn't lie down on the bench because it had armrests between each seat.
The relief when my Uber arrived was unbelievable. I was finally able to lie down in the back of the car to recover. It took about 5-10 minutes until I could sit up and talk with the driver for the rest of the journey. He was a nice guy, and we had a good conversation while he drove me back to the safety of home.
I made it into the flat safely but was still very low on energy. So I crawled back into bed to try to recover.
After a 50-minute call from a friend in Melbourne and replying to some messages, I felt like I would at 3 AM, not 3 PM. My body threatened to fall asleep while I was typing into my phone.
While thunderstorms raged outside, I slept for most of 1.5 hours. Then close to another 2 hours before I finally felt able to resurface and get some chores done and edit the photo above from a visit to St Ethelreda's Church in Hatfield in 2019.
Based on today's experience, it will be a while before I venture far from home again. I might try to walk to the high street (about 500m from my place) tomorrow for some small things. But I'll be ordering groceries online this week and laying low while I recharge my batteries.
On a "related, but not" note: it is not ideal to have symptoms of carpal tunnel syndrome for the first time when in the midst of, and recovering from, a highly infectious and deadly virus. But at least now I know what the strange tingling in my left arm is. And the panic surrounding that particular symptom has disappeared.
Also related: the virus has made me a cheap drunk, at least temporarily.