PROSAIC, PEDANTIC AND PATHETIC!

The Northern Isles of the UK are being buffetted by bad weather again.  This morning I happened to be listening to Radio 4's Broadcasting House programme, to which an Orkney resident had phoned indignantly, protesting at the coverage given to the American hurricane, while Orkney was being blasted by 80mph winds (which were not even being mentioned!) on this side of the pond.  It's not quite as bad as that in Shetland, but it's still a lively envoi to what has been a dismal summer up here.  The Tall Ships Shetland visit, the Walls Show, the Scalloway Gala and several cruise ship visits are just some of the events which were either wiped out or badly affected by adverse weather conditions this summer.

As yet not weather-affected has been the artistic output from the Tait Gallery.  This week, I've been working on two fishing boat pictures destined for the Catterline exhibition.  Both pictures feature the Bressay Lighthouse, but from completely different angles. One is an aerial view of the Aberdeen trawler "Leswood" heading for sea in heavy weather, the other is from a more lowly viewpoint, of the Fraserburgh motor drifter "Girl Pat" coming in to land her night's catch.  I'll be doing more in a similar vein over the next 6 weeks or so, and I may be recycling a few older works to make up numbers for this event.

I've put the Stonehaven painting (featured on last week's post) in for scanning, with a view to featuring it on the posters for the Catterline exhibition.  I'm starting to make lists of things which will come with me (and it's still more than two months away!) - picture wire, cutters, split rings and blue-tack will be vital.  I've begun to think about gallery labels for the paintings, and I've bought sheets of coloured card for use in their manufacture.  My sister Mary (in charge of transport) and I were discussing the trip over lunch last Wednesday.  As a direct response to last week's post, I now have another volunteer to help with the hanging - that's a full lynch mob now!  The power of social media, eh?

For a few months now, I've ben racking my poor befuddled brains for a suitable exhibition title.  All that I could come up with is "The North Sea, The Mearns and Other Scenes".  I know that this is prosaic in the extreme - exactly what it says on the tin, so to speak.  But it's the best I can come up with, and it is typical of me - prosaic, pedantic and pathetic!

On Friday I was delighted by the smiling face of my niece Elanor Gunn beaming out from a page of the Shetland Times.  She had graduated from the RSAMD with a first class honours degree in violin performance, and my mother was so pleased and proud to see her grand-daughter's photograph in the paper she has read and supported for nearly a century.  We're still somewhat mystified by the same paper's non-publication of Elanor's earlier, and equally remarkable, achievement of being appointed leader of the National Youth Orchestra of Wales.  Her tenure of this position came to an end earlier this year, but the distinction is none the less.

On a much sadder note, my first cousin Don Leslie lost a long battle with illness earlier this week and, on Tuesday, I'll be going to what will undoubtedly be one of the biggest funerals Lerwick has known during my lifetime.  My deepest sympathy goes to Marion, Richard, John and all the other family members.

At times like these, the words from "Maunsie's Crö", by Basil R J Anderson, come to my mind:

Da years geed by as aye dir geen
Da winter white, da simmer green
Da voar aye saan, da hairst aye shoarn
Aye someen deed, aye someen boarn

POSTAGE AND PACKING

The best news of the past two weeks came on Monday 4th October, when my client rang to tell me that he was pleased with the large seascape (at my second presentation) and that his cheque would be in the post later that week. I told him, when I had come down to earth again, that I would let the work dry for a few days, then get it in the post to him at the beginning of another week.

Here's where my family and my artwork come together, as the painting, at 47" x 39" x 2" deep, is too big for one person to safely handle in the wrapping process. My brother was up on holiday this week, and he agreed to help me with this delicate operation, which took place this last Tuesday afternoon. The packaging involved a couple of layers of bubble-wrap, outside of which were two sheets of 1" polystyrene sheeting (one each side), outside of which were another two layers of bubble-wrap. Then the cardboard outer protection went on, secured by copious quantities of parcel tape. I plastered "Fragile" stickers liberally over it, and attached my previously-prepared "Documents Enclosed" adhesive envelope. My brother reckoned the package was now well-nigh impregnable. I wasn't so sure, but it was difficult to tell how we could have reinforced it any more, so that's the way it went next morning. The post office counter assistant assured me that it would take 48 hours from Wednesday morning, but this turned out to be over-optimistic, as it took until Monday to arrive.

Work has been steady but slow on the commissioned painting of the Helford river in Cornwall. Calm water is always tricky to portray, and I won't be satisfied with the work until you feel you can dive into it for a swim! I've hardly touched the "stock" work of Gourdon harbour, but I'll be able to make better progress on it, and other works, now that the big job has finally been completed and despatched.

On the printing side. more greeting cards are on the way, and I've been replenishing my stock of giclee prints for my forthcoming stalls at the Toll Clock Centre. More of this in about a month's time. Very soon I'll have to turn my attention to decision-making about which magazines and newspapers I'm going to advertise in, in order to catch the eager eyes of the online Christmas shoppers. One tragic sales scenario which has yet to befall me is running out of stock - I'd sooner print too much than too little.

Here I am, preparing for another Christmas sales campaign, and it seems such a short time since the last one. According to the Met Office, the weather is to take on a rather Christmassy feel over the next few days. My sister Mary managed to get a flight out of strike-ridden France yesterday, after a few days holiday there. She was at Birmingham when I phoned her this morning, and she hopes to be back in Shetland on Tuesday morning. I fancy she'll find it a bit chilly after the Basque country. Winter draws on, I guess! Have a good week!

GALES, WORK AND SAUCERMEAT

A steady stream of ships has been passing by this morning, providing maritime enthusiasts like me with some eye candy, as these vessels made their way towards Lerwick harbour. They included the cruise ship "Tahitian Princess", making the second of her two scheduled calls this season. At least the weather is dry and quiet for her passengers, mostly Americans of advancing years, although, this being the Sabbath, there will be few shops open for them to browse through. I expect that none of them will make it up to the Tait Gallery, as few visitors ever do. I have considered renting a small shop on one of the main thoroughfares of Lerwick, but rates are far too prohibitive.

The first big gale of the autumn arrived on Tuesday afternoon, a full fortnight earlier than normal, and finally blew itself out in the early hours of Wednesday morning, although the wind remained at near gale force for most of the day. I heard no reports of any serious damage, either at sea or on land, although the roads around town were liberally strewn with small branches and twigs from bushes and such stunted trees as can find a foothold here. The saying goes, as regards climatological conditions in Shetland, that it consists of nine months of winter and three of bad weather. It's going to be a long hard one, as the thingummy said to the whatsisname!

I've made the usual slow and steady progress on my three current art projects - the two commissions, which I hope to have finished by the beginning of next month, and the one, done with nobody in particular in mind, of Fordyce village, on which any headway at all is proving difficult to achieve. I sent off to Jackson's Art supplies for more canvases and daler boards - I think these arrived yesterday when I was out, as the postman left notification that a large package had been taken back to the depot for collection by me there. I phoned them, apologised for my earlier lack of presence, and asked them to deliver it again on Monday. I am grateful for their acquiescence to my request. I also received a new (to me!) and cheap kind of art carrier, of A1 size, from another supplier, which disappointed me. It had no expanding gusset, as I had been expecting, so it will only accommodate two standard-sized paintings. As a result it will be of limited use when transporting artworks to and from exhibitions. Fresh supplies of paint and brushes also arrived, along with my new suit (which will rarely ever be on my back, but I couldn't resist the bargain!), which means that a conspicuous dent has appeared in my bank balance this week. I'll never get rich at this game!

About a month ago, I enrolled in an evening class called "Build Your Own Website", which should have started next Tuesday evening (this incoming week). I received notification this past week that the class has been postponed until the 27th October, "due to the illness of the tutor". I regard this particular tutor as a friend, and he has added his name to a growing list of people I know who are more or less seriously ill at the moment. I just hope they all make good recoveries. While I'm on the subject of education, my nephew Kenneth has been accepted for his degree course in accountancy at Robert Gordon's University in Aberdeen. Well done to the young man - I hope his studies go well for him.

My sister Mary and I took a run out to Walls, on the west side of the Shetland mainland, to visit our mother at the Wastview Care Centre, where she is enjoying two week's respite from the struggle to live at her home. Praise is due to the Islands Council for providing such wonderful places, although keeping them staffed is a constant concern. Mother was looking well, as she was again yesterday, when my oldest sister Thelma and I paid her another call. On the way there, we visited the family home at Whiteness, to water the greenhouse plants and see that the place was all right in mother's absence. I took some pink roses out to Wastview; I hoped, in so doing, to contribute a little to the ambience of the place, but I'll probably give them all hay fever and greenfly. On the way back to Lerwick, we called along the farmer's market at Tingwall Hall, where I bought some sausagemeat from the Scalloway Meat Company stall. I had it for tea last night, and it was, quite frankly, as bland and tasteless as the stuff from other suppliers at present. What happened to good spicy saucermeat, eh? Has it been another victim of galloping European over-regulation?

One of my favourite TV presenters is Jonathan Meades, and I was not disappointed in his programme on Aberdeen, which went out on BBC4 on Wednesday evening His quirky, erudite and knowledgeable presentation, on the architecture and layout of the Granite City, was both amusing and informative, and I enjoyed it very much. I look forward to more from him.

I had my weekly quota of three pints of lager on Thursday at tea-time. I consumed the first noggin at da Noost, which was very quiet, and the other two at the Lounge, which was much livelier. There I met a number of people whom I hadn't seen for some time. Old habits die hard - after my drinks I went straight to the Red Dragon takeaway, where I got my carry-out of roast duck Canton and egg fried rice - yum! My mouth is watering as I write this!

So that's been my past week in a nutshell - not a bad one, all things considered. Every day I made some progress on some project or other, some days on several. I have heard that the opening night of the Musa Art Cafe Coast exhibition was a very busy affair, but I have received no word of any artwork sales. Neither do I have any news to give you about any forthcoming exhibitions, but I hope this situation will change soon. Watch this space, and have a nice incoming week!

FLESH WOUNDS, FRIDGES AND A STALL

Tuesday started badly. Just before 7am, I was stepping out of the bath, when my left foot slipped on the wet floor. My next conscious memory is sitting, soaking wet, on the bathroom floor, feeling rather chastised and foolish, with blood issuing profusely from my left elbow. The towel was still handy, so I proceeded to staunch the flow which, fortunately, stopped after a short while. Thoughts were racing through my mind, such as How do I get up? Should I phone for an ambulance when I do? How do I get dressed? In the end, I bum-shunted my way through to the living-room, where I raised myself on the armchair. I established I could still move all my bits, so I went back through to the bathroom, where I ran a cold bath for the blood-soaked towel. In the kitchen cabinet I found a Mepore wound dressing, which I whacked onto my elbow. I then got dressed for another day chez the Tait gallery.

The previous day, my nephew Kenneth had called, bearing an almost-new fridge which he had promised me as a replacement for my 30-odd-year-old Electrolux which, let's face it, was going to expire of old age soon. It was also badly in need of a defrost. Kenneth has been carrying out extensive refurbishments to the substantial house he inherited on the death of his father a couple of years ago, and I was benefitting from the resultant fridge windfall. Or so I thought. What I hadn't counted on was the fact that the device would have to stand 24 hours, while the gasses settled, before it could be switched on. Meanwhile the old one had been unplugged to defrost, as this would make it lighter (much lighter!) to carry downstairs for disposal. So there I was, sharing my limited kitchen space with two inoperational fridges, with the deteriorating contents of one of them, reminding me of James Bolam in a certain episode of The Beiderbecke Affair (or was it the Beiderbecke Tapes?). Late that afternoon, I decided that I would rather be elsewhere, and made this the excuse for a few pints of good cheer at my local hostelry.

Which brings us back to Tuesday and my deteriorating physical condition and frame of mind. It occurred to me that, if anyone had had a video-camera trained on me when I did my involuntary semi-somersault in the bathroom, I could at least make £250 out of it on "You've Been Framed!"

I cheered up when my sister Thelma arrived later in the morning, and I made us a cuppa, which we were enjoying when Kenneth arrived again, so we had one of the laughter-filled discussions which always seem to take place when a few of us get together. I forgot about my troubles and, after removing the remaining icebergs from the old fridge, we got the new one up and running, and Kenneth set off with the old one, presumably to take it to the Rova Head dump in his hired van. In the afternoon, I did some banking for my mother and had my hair trimmed (at different venues!).

I've started a rather complicated artwork, a result of my trips to the mainland with my camera last October and March. It is a 3ft x 2ft canvas depicting low tide at Johnshaven harbour, and it will take ages to complete, being filled with buildings, stacks of lobster creels, and small boats. The intention is that this will form part of my next Catterline exhibition, if and whenever that might take place.

On Thursday I had arranged to take a stall at the Toll Clock Shopping Centre in order to sell prints, postcards and my new promotional T-shirts to the visitors on the 40,000-ton cruise ship Aida Cara, which was in port that day. The man who is in charge of providing stall-holders with their furniture was extremely pessimistic about my prospects for sales. He claimed that few of the cruise-ship passengers ever made it there and, when they did, they didn't buy anything. His pessimism was well-founded. I sold £50 worth of goods that day, all to local residents, including 3 T-shirts at £10 apiece. This, of course, tells me that I should have my stall there more often, as there is still a market for my stuff among the Shetland population. And there's a social element to this too - I always meet loads of people I haven't seen for ages, and they all stop by for a natter. I'm there again this coming Tuesday when the Azamara Journey is scheduled to be in.

On Friday, I had my usual trip to Whiteness, where I found my mother in good humour and reasonable health. The weather was atrocious, the preceding week of fine days now a mere pleasant memory, so I was unable to work outside. I made our lunch, did my duties as kitchen porter, watered the plants in the greenhouse and elsewhere, and helped out with what I could.

Saturday was a day devoted to artwork, mostly on the Johnshaven painting. And so ended a week of mixed fortunes. My elbow is gradually hurting less. I hope to get my Duff House exhibition paintings framed this incoming week. My framer has been moving shop, and has hitherto been unable to attend to my work. This is a worry!