haddon hall chapel

I could happily visit Haddon Hall every week! 

Within the grounds of Haddon Hall I always head to the St Nicholas Chapel first, tracing a 'map' of my first visit many years ago. I'm fascinated by the foliage and flower dry fresco paintings and love to gaze up, noticing how each large motif skilfully fits into the others surrounding it to create a continuous pattern that climbs the walls. I marvel at the skill involved in painting consistently to this scale over a large surface. Wondering at the daunting first brushstroke, the mixing of pigments, at the scaffold required to work at hight, imagining arm ache and the physicality of this labour. How marvellous to become absorbed in marks made in the 1400's. How I'd love to peek into the process, see the start of a days work, observe the everyday of that era.

And then, within feet, I travel to 1894. The death of a 9 year old child, the eldest son. Eyes drawn to the tender depiction of feet and hands and incredible carved drapery.

'For ever wilt thou grieve and he be fair.'

Detail of chapel fresco

Three skeletons of a Medieval morality tale

whoops

Whoops - I intended to share a picture of my sunflower in flower last month - see this instagram post for a full bloom shot! 

Seeds are forming, and a teeny new flower head is sprouting - such riches.

When ripe, I'll take a few seeds for next year and leave the rest to the birdies.

Thank you sunflower 💚

bees on echinops

 Such a treat to watch bees buzz around the tall globe thistle 🙂

Buff-tailed bumblebee

Honeybee

White-tailed bumblebee

Red-tailed bumblebee with mites on it's back hitching a lift

dinosaur pals

These delightful post-it note drawings sat by the side of the path between railway and houses in Belper today. Wisely, they'd chosen a shady spot on this scorching day. Crouching to photograph them I wondered at the event of their creation - a guessing game? something to delight a child? to while away a bus journey, illustrate a conversation? Literally 'throw away' drawings on post-it notes, momentary, speedy while also showing a confidence with line and proportion. I'm a fan of the artist. 

The addition of a googly-eye gives an air of intent to the stegosaurus - it's going places. The brachiosaurus has appears wistful, looking back at where it's been. 

They make a balanced team.

 

small things are big things

A few months ago I left a packet of sunflower seeds in the stairway of Haarlem Artspace (where I have a studio) inviting others to pick a seed and grow a sunflower. I staged it as a competition of sorts - envisaging studio holders planting our sunflowers in the flowerbed by the studio building and watching as each grew into itself with its own special attribute.

At the moment mine stands alone, though I'm hopeful my sunflower will have company.

It grew on my studio windowsill for a month or so and 7 days ago I planted it out. I've been grateful for the rain that has fallen this week and today went to check on the beautiful and hopeful flower-bud that is forming. I'll have bated breath until it flowers.

Tomorrow I am providing homemade vegan victorian sponge and ginger nut biscuits to celebrate the sunflower and my intention of joining studio holders in a communal flowery endeavour. It's not quite taken off this time, there is always next year...

full

At the cemetery tap people leave the milk bottles full of water for the next person to carry to their loved ones grave. Such a teeny thing really, but it gladdens my heart when I lift the bottle expecting empty and discover water winking away in the sunlight. Someone has thought of me and my watery errand.

And in turn, I refilled for the next soul to discover they've been considered. 

Water our losses, and let's hold hands with others doing the same. From Doris and I (who haunts her grave) over and out.

lavender

The lavender I planted on Doris Hardy's grave is flourishing. I visited for frequent waterings during dry April and hardly at all in wet May. Today, in glorious sunshine, I went to admire the lavender's abundant flower-heads and watched ants doing their communal thing on the warmed concrete of Doris's, her aunt Mary's and grandmother Sarah's grave.

Have yet to sit and spin using a spindle by the grave, a nod to the word 'spinster' etched into the stone - I plan to do this on Friday.