Thursday, 29 March 2012

Change.


Springtime and change is all around us, ponds laden with frog spawn new buds on the trees and faint brush strokes of green among the hedgerows. It is difficult not to notice change on this scale, the whole of creation it seems to be on the move. I think I was around 7-years old when I first caught a frog and kept it in a bucket in the back yard, eventually my parents encouraged me to let it go and on our way to Ugthorpe, Freddy was released into a small stream at Guisborough. The photo above was taken while walking through Guisborough woods last weekend; who knows? it may be one of Freddy's descendants.

I have been suffering with back pain recently and our housekeeper Mrs Johnson suggested a long soak in the bath with some herbal bubbles; I usually shower so the thoughts of a bath never enter my head. Mrs J prepared the bath and called me when it was ready, a room full of steam and the smell of lavender was quite inviting. It was during this long soak that i began to wonder when did I grow so tall? My toes just under the taps and my shoulders resting securely at the other end; now I am only 5foot 4inches but thinking back I was always known as shrimp, so when did I grow? Growing up in Warwick Street Middlesbrough, we didn't have a bathroom and each Saturday night the old metal bathtub would be brought in and filled with hot water. I had my own enamel tin bath (the one that was used to carry the washing); bath time was great in front of the fire. But the question is still there, when did I grow?

We respond to change, generally after the event; how would it be if we were able to live the changes?

Friday, 23 March 2012

The old man

The action was a self portrait for a photo competition; nothing to do with creative writing, and here we are approaching another Easter and so little progress with the book. I have to point out quickly that the title of this post is not referring to me (though it certainly could) but to the writing desk/ bureau and book case. Throughout my memory years this piece of furniture has been referred to as "the old man". My paternal grand father (Edward) was a cabinet maker and served his apprenticeship at Harrison's Grosmont; his father (David) was an engine driver and lived by the river at Egton Bridge North Yorkshire. The old man can be dated as grand dad signed and dated the bottom left drawer October 1909. Harrison's had their own woodland in Grosmont and I expect that is where the timber would have originated.

The old man has purpose apart from being a thing of beauty, I always felt important and that I was doing something special, writing at  the desk when a small boy (one way at least to get my homework done). I wonder what grand dad would have thought about a laptop resting on the desk? He was a particular man, paying close attention to detail, the dovetail joints are as strong today as they were when he put them together; ageing has only added to the character even to the splashes of blue from the ink pots. Time spent in creation, be it wood working or writing is never wasted and serves purpose into the future.

Time has been invested in producing a piece of work that will be used in schools and youth centres; it is a piece of software entitled Life-SkillsLabyrinth (it is easier to give you this link than to begin to explain). In our work with young people, it was felt that many had missed some of the basic stepping stones of life and this is an attempt to replace them.

Note to morning office: Do not be afraid to put yourself into that which you create, that's how we get the best results.


Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Its for the birds


To be as free as a bird with all that sky, how must that feel? To rise on thermals and hold just one position, with only the slightest movement of the wings; to glide and turn effortlessly. Much more difficult for me to capture that with my camera, let alone imagine how it must feel. The truth of course is that this gull, is busy looking for food to sustain him, and spends most of the day doing just that. If we are honest, we probably have more free time than he ever will. I hear people say, "just give me 5-minutes" - "I never have time to myself" - "sorry I'm tied up at the moment". Trust me, life is not much different in the friary.

I love this picture, its all happening, taking to the air, landing, checking out the neighbours and the two at the bottom look like they are chatting; where do you figure in this group?

Brother Cyril is just standing, deep in thought, not sure even if the incoming tide will move him. Brother Michael however is the one at the bottom (facing front) probably giving instructions to the other who is trying not to hear. Where am I? I guess I would be the one at the edge left; swooping down and trying to decide whether to land or not.

Freedom is more a state of mind than a place to be, it takes practice, and it helps to have a place in mind. These birds gather at the waters edge, changing position with the ebb/ flow of the tide and maintain manoeuvres through land sea and sky.

Saturday, 25 February 2012

Alignment

Jupiter, Venus & Moon
This evening saw a clear sky, revealing the wonders of the heavens. A special night as Jupiter and Venus draw close together; joined by a new moon and within a hands-span of each other.

I try not to get too technical with my interest in astronomy, just to enjoy the splendour of these distant jewels is sufficient in itself. Its good though, to know their names, as we become familiar with their positions and the shapes; we interpret these as giants and beasts. Stories are brought together and shared through generations; such a shame that our new understanding leaves behind these colourful mysteries.

Looking at these bright giants and immediately behind us, Mars is rising over the horizon. Some will tell us of the significance of this alignment and how it will impact on our lives; how much time we spend in such discussions each day, and miss the beauty of the event itself.

Note to morning office: Each day to value the brightness of others.

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Friends


Its good to visit friends, especially when you have not seen them for some time. So much catching up to do, much of the conversation is in blocks of random information mixed with intense emotion; desperately trying to share everything at once. With very close friends, the process is a little different; often it is just about looking at each other and knowing. Catching up with Pete & Catherine at Northumbria Community was just that.

The added bonus of this weekend was to meet up with folk not yet known and coming away feeling I had found yet more close friends; there is something special about Nether Springs that exist not in the bricks and mortar, for they have not long moved into their new aboding. The tree above is in the adjoining field at Nether Springs and looked magnificent in the early morning sun and we can only imagine the extent of its root structure, invisible to the eye though source of all that is necessary to sustain its reaching branches.

All Saints Church Skelton in Cleveland
 Closer to home we are caught up in our normal routines, friends and acquaintances take on a different role, and their value is often diminished.

The tree is of two parts and one cannot exist without the other, drawing nutrition from both the earth and the sun and divided only by a thin surface layer.

Sunday, 27 November 2011

Foundational archive


I am inspired by Dana's blog (Awareness) this morning and ponder on her term foundational archive. Similar thoughts were already swimming in my mind even before I read her wonderful piece, about the silver link between our senses and memories; being sparked by sights, sounds or smells and transported back to a memory.

The memories that made a difference, if I were to group them together, would almost certainly be about family and those close who were "always there". Uncles, great aunts, friends of our family that I grew up alongside; there was a knowledge that much of what happened had a purpose and was dependable. When things went a little off balance, there was a root to hold onto a branch to shelter under, something to climb and see things from a different place. So many people are already flooding back into my mind, times and places of togetherness, happy events; but even the sad times, there is peace.

How do we teach this to our young generation? Have we lost the skills or the will to share these moments, to build foundational archives for generations to come. It seems to me that there has been such a gap in time when this way of living has been left to one side, we can blame the technological age, materialism or pressure of work; it still comes down to us. I also believe that the giving of self in this way, being there for those around us, provides us with a vitamin that cannot be purchased over a counter; a different kind of energy that you will not find in a gym. So remember those times, value and treasure them; it is our turn to be those people.

Monday, 21 November 2011

Light beneath the canopy

Light beneath the canopy

Time has stood still only at this Blog space; elsewhere it has been moving at an alarming rate. I realised some time ago that time was against me in relation to achieving my goals, and embedded a sense of disappointment. My creative thoughts and ideas appeared on, what I imagined to be a large sheet of white paper and immediately blurred with everything else. I was not prepared to reduce the amount of ideas so in my mind, I created a much larger sheet of paper. Each one of us have ways of organising and visualising life and its demands, and to balance our own creative side is important.

Walking recently through the streets of Saltburn by the Sea (the back streets & alleyways to be precise) I noticed far more people choose the alleyways; there is a busy highway running through our town that you would not notice unless you stepped onto it. I was surprised who I met and will choose these streets more often.

Awaking early as I do this time of year, feels like the middle of the night. It is strange to see that we can see, much much further these dark times; light years in fact - to the distant stars. Durham was lit up this week and thousands flocked to see the amazing colours; I didn't stay long among the hustle and bustle, people with cameras, tripods, mobiles and an assortment of personal light sabres. I returned home to my own light show and my very large sheet of paper, which in itself contains a whole universe.

Durham