LIFE AND ARTWORK

I've continued on the commissioned historical painting of Lerwick harbour, on which I have at least another month's work to do, and on the "stock" landscape of Fordyce village, near Banff. I'm making use of some of the digital images I captured in late June. The slow progress on the commission is due to the amount of detail I'm choosing to put in - it's a good job my client is not in any hurry for it.

Talking of detail, what I use for the application of paint on masts, rigging and other "tiddly" stuff is a 3-4mm round-section fine-point acrylic brush, preferably long-handled. The fine point only lasts for one painting before it goes spade-ended, after which it can still be used for fine-lining for some time. My main supplier has been letting me down lately over the provision of these, so I have been googling new sources of supply, the first consignments of which arrived last week. I'm fairly satisfied with these so far.

My website designer has been busy at www.tait-gallery.co.uk this week, giving it a zippy facelift and some technical improvements. I've been busy, when I'm not engaged in artwork, trying to get more visitors to it (see separate post on Marketing) but visitors who buy anything seem to be a dying breed.

I took a break from work late on Tuesday afternoon to have a few beers at my favourite Lerwick pubs, Da Noost and the Lounge. At the latter, I ended up in conversation with a Norwegian foursome (I speak a little of their language) and the crack was good in there for a while. The Norwegians promised to come up and see my etchings the next day, but they never showed up. They probably couldn't find the place - this happens quite often.

I had an interesting letter from the Lerwick Doctors Practice last week. It appears they are going to stop supplying Beclomethasone inhalers because of the CFCs they contain. So we asthmatics are going to be sacrificed on the altar of saving the ozone layer. It reminds me of the 1960s TW3 sketch, with Peter Cook and Lance Percival, in which a hapless soldier is being commanded to surrender his life, as they required a futile gesture. They (the Lerwick Doctors Practice) are suggesting alternatives, so I guess I'll try these out. Too bad if they don't work - there'll be weeping and wailing and gasping for breath.

On the family front, I've become a grand-uncle for the umpteenth time, and my sister Mary is now into her second stint as new grandmother, as her daughter Caroline brought forth William Fraser Thomson. Both are well, and Mary is now even busier than usual. My nephew Kenneth, at age 30, has finished his university entrance course and has passed with flying colours, the good lad. He starts his studies for an accountancy degree in late September. My mother, now 93 years of age, is still in good health, apart from her mobility problems. She goes to Wastview Centre for another fortnight's respite care next Monday. My other sisters, my brother and their families are well too, a fact for which I am very grateful.

And yes, it's an occasional niggling regret that I never had any family of my own. I did have a brief and fairly stormy marriage during the 1970s, but it finished childless soon after that, and I never remarried. I suppose it's due to a cowardly streak in me, coupled with a crippling lack of self-esteem during the vital years when I might have struck up other permanent relationships. "Who'd want an unemployed, alcoholic impoverished artist?" (I did drink a fair amount in those days).

Now that I'm 61 and feeling a lot better about myself, it's a bit late to be thinking about romance! "Da sun is ower far wast!" as they say up here. I comfort myself on lonely nights by thoughts such as not needing insurance because I don't have any beneficiaries! And life's pretty good really. I'm close to all my sisters, brother and their families, as well as my mother, and if feelings of loneliness overtake me on dark winter nights, I pick up a good book and read away the blues. My little world is a rabbit warren of escape routes!