s.... h.... o.... pp.... i.... n.... g!

I like shopping, I do!

Rare as it is for "real" men to feel the need or desire for retail therapy.... I have a hankering for more stuff!

I like gadgets and kitchen implements (not appliances).  I like gizmos and fishing tackle.  I even like shopping for fruit and vegetables!

I HATE shopping for clothes.  I don't like shopping for cars, for birthday presents, christmas presents or mobile phones.  Thank heavens for internet shopping where these items are concerned.

This brings me on to the subject of our trip to the Sculpture Park, yesterday....  My cousin and aunt, who both live in Canadia both loved the Sculpture Park when I took them there and gave them a Foxified guided tour - I'm no expert but I've been a few times and I know nice paths to the L:ongsight Gallery and back again, taking in my favourite pieces along the way - and I like to send them something from there whenever I visit.....

So, shopping at Yorkshire Sculpture Park.....

I wanted something relating to the Miro exhibition to send to Canadia....  a card or some postcards perhaps.... alas, there were none on sale.... not a single Miro product that weighed less than a fridge magnet (a pointless item if ever there was one - except perhaps the magnetic poetry set and the magnetic ransom note set) and nothing much less fragile than glassware and china cups..... a poor show, and I left the gift shop without spending a proverbial penny!

What a shame.

And now, I've been given a green light to buy myself some fishing tackle.... so that's a bonus and scratches the itch that needs an unresoved scratching from yesterday.  for the record, I'm buying some Guru X-Safe spare elastic and tubes; Korum bait stops; Korum baiting needle; three new spools of Drennan Series 7 monofilament (4.6lb; 5.6lb; 6.9lb); and some Guru four inch method hair rigs (size 14 to 9lb line) - great stuff.

I can only imagine the state of coldness that the above list will have left you all feeling!

Itch scratched!

Miro miro on the wall

I like modern art I do......

I believe anything can be art.... and depending how you look at it.... it might as well be!  That's just me.

Recently my mum passed me an article, which of course she was goading me with.  The item was about a new exhibition at the Hayward's Gallery in London.  The exhibition is comprised entirely of "invisible" pieces.

Examples: A movie shot with no film; invisible ink drawings; a plinth once stood on by Andy Warhol; a piece of art paper that an artist stared at for one thousand hours (over a five year period).

I read the article and remark that I would go to look at it.... "I thought YOU might" offers my usual discouraging, disparaging mother.  She paints watercolours with several local art "groups" and has no time for the frivolities of modern art.  "I could have done that" is her almost perpetual response..... "yes you could mother, but you didn't" my only reply.

Look, this modern art isn't just about throwing things about.... there's a thought process and a reason why it happens the way it does.  The "invisible" art pieces are all about their concepts....  The ideas behind the "works" are not hindered by the presence of an image... simple..... I'd go to see it... why not, it would amuse me and I'd enjoy it.

Today I've spent the day at Yorkshire Sculpture Park amongst some great examples of work of many types and in fantastic surroundings.  The very place at Bretton Hall, the pieces in their places, the walks through, the trees, the whole ambience.... it's a symphony of art.

I've stroked pieces by Henry Moore, Barbara Hepworth, Joan Miro, Andy Goldsworthy, Winter and Horbelt, David Nash and many others besides.... real, solid pieces that you can actually interact with.  It's a great place and I always find it soothes my soul.  I love it.

The current "main" exhibition is a bunch of Catalan, Joan Miro's work and it's really stunning.  Lots of great paintings and some crazy sculptures.  Lots of information about Miro and his work....  like living monsters!

If you are lucky enough, like me, to live within striking distance of the Sculpture Park and you've never been, then what are you waiting for?  If you have to travel further to get there, then I suggest you pick a day and make the effort at least once...... despite the (in my opinion) rather pricey car parking charges which have gone up from four quid a day to seven pounds fifty a day.... there are no other entrance fees to pay.

So rather than pay eight quid each to see a bunch of invisible art.... why not pay a bit less or a full carload of you to see some REAL pieces!

Quite amazingly.

No matter how hard I try to keep up with my blog, it just seems to run away from me. I can't believe I didn't make a post since Thursday already!!

What have I been doing that's been so exciting?

Drinking beer mostly.

Took a trip into York yesterday and even managed a trip to the splendid and very friendly York Brewery. Took the tour and drank the splendid beer. Very enjoyable. You can't beat a drop of Yorkshire Terrier or a pint of Guzzler!!



Oystercatchers in Anglesey. Having never seen an oystercatcher up close before, I was pleased to grab a snap of this one, even though I had to squelch out into the mud of a low tide to get near enough to them. Lovely orange beak and I love the seaweed covered rock behind it too.

It never....

... rains, but it bloody well pours!!!

The story of the last couple of days has been that of trudging through thick mud in the pouring rain. Wet walking boots, wet shirts, wet rucksack, trying not to get my camera wet, and trying to stay on my feet as the soles of my boots are filled with thick, black, gungy, Yorkshire mud. It's grim up north!!

Just managed a circuit of Scammonden Dam today, probably four miles or so, and in all fairness I'd say the weather really did get the better of me. The walk actually took twice as long as it should because of the horrible conditions underfoot.

I like this wall. A concrete wall at the end of Deanhead Reservoir... and undeniably man-made structure in a largely natural environment. I love the way that the mosses and lichens are slowly, but very steadily, breaking the concrete back down.

Sunday schmunday.

When I used to have a job (a couple of years ago!!) I used to hate Sunday because I knew it meant that I'd have to go to work on the very next day, and the Sunday evening always seemed a bit sombre and depressing. Now I just hate Sunday because my lovely girlfriend has to go home and carry on with her life while I get back on with mine..... bah!!


A lovely Henry Moore sculpture courtesy of the fantastic Yorkshire Sculpture Park which I took my Canadian family members to see last week. Rain fell heavily but our spirits were not dampened.

Trying to relax.

Sometimes you have to take a step back and just relax a bit.

We started the process by going for a lovely walk across the golf course in the snow that has appeared over the last twenty-four hours. It was nice to be able to just walk, completely freely, across the hallowed turf, where you would normally have to risk a clonk on the bonce from either an enraged golfer's club or a wayward golf ball. I love walking in snow. A couple of kids threw snowballs at us, and to their delight I fired right back.



Next up, at lunchtime, as the snow began to thaw, we headed off to Haworth, deep in Bronte country. We rode the steam train from Haworth to Keighley, an old fashioned train-spotter's delight.... I can't deny that it's always been a charming, pleasant experience to travel by steam.


Real, honest to God gaslights.


Dawn, freezing to death, fully bemused by my choice of entertainment.


Thar she blows, our train pulls into platform one!!

We spent a while looking round the town of Keighley, which is a strange place full of rugby fans, chavs, and weirdos. I am sure that not everyone in Keighley fits into one of those categories, but I bet it's at least an eighty percent fit. We rode the train back to Haworth, and enjoyed real ale from the buffet car. Pleasant is right!

In the evening we headed to Bradford to try a curry house that has recently been recommended to me by several of my befriended Bob's Taxis taxi drivers. I've had better, is about all I will say about the curry at Anams on Great Horton Road. The starters were nice enough (We had a masala fish and an aloo tikka) but both main courses were disappointing. Overcooked chopped up king prawns for me, and some kofta that didn't hit the high notes for Dawn. The rice and tandoori rotis were delicious and the jug of strawberry lassi was good too, but the idea of charging me fifty pence for extra chillies because I asked for my dish to be cooked on the hot side, is unnecessary and petty. I'm pleased we went there, but not sure I'd hurry back.

Came home (avoiding the temptations of the Barge and Barrel) and relaxed in the obligatory pyjamas with compulsory over-filled belly, the symptom of any curry night!!

I am relaxed.

Fog.

The bright, flat, white light, pushed its way through the curtains in my bedroom this morning. You could tell, in the same way that you can tell it's been snowing in winter, without looking out of the window, what the weather had in store for us.

Bright whiteout Yorkshire fog.

When they say it's grim up north, this morning is the kind of thing they have in mind.

Dripping wet, dank moorland grime, laying, where snow would form a blanket, we definitely had a feather filled twenty tog super-king-size duvet. Everything enveloped in the marsh-mallowy softness of soundproof soup.

I grabbed my camera, my tripod, my trousers, and still fastening my boots, rushed out into the weather and out onto the hills. Even if no photographs would present themselves, then at least it would be a satisfying walk.

By the time I reached Cupwith, the visibility was to say the least, unfavourable. I parked the car, grabbed the gear and set off along the path. Straight away, I was noticing some lovely photogenic moments under the white shroud. The flat light, the dew encrusted moorland, the perfect white backdrop... Perhaps I would get something after all.

My only encounter on the moorland was a couple with four dogs. They were playing in the corner of the reservoir, and their passing comment, as I skillfully dodged a barrage of curious wet fur, was that I would not be likely to get many pictures today.

I think I may have proved them wrong. Out of the most "unlikely" circumstances, I think these are some of my best photographs.

Here is a small collection of photos (the rest are in Flickr of course) that I really , REALLY like.


On the path to Marsden, playing with a self timer, trying to get things in focus, and still manage to get into the photograph. There are VERY few photographs of me, so you ought to feel privileged.


A self contained "life support unit" on top of a wooden gatepost, dripping with the moor grime. I've looked at this grass a few times and thought what a good picture it might make. I hadn't bargained on it being against such a lovely white background, dripping with water, and being tended by a bumble bee. It's a competition winner in my eyes.


No photography collection is complete without the ubiquitous dew laden spider's web. There were plenty of them out on the moors. I particularly enjoyed the appearance of the heather, as if it were a giant spider's web in a forest of trees. Focus is difficult in a shot like this.... sorry.


Zen gardening at Cupwith Reservoir. Lovely reflections, and a gorgeous fade to white above these rocks. Magical.

I skimmed flat stones.....

.... Across the remnant of the infamous Black Moss.

The day was not still, and I couldn't hear the ripples for the howling wind and whip cracking rifle fire from the nearby Diggle shooting ranges.

Still, I CAN say I was there. I CAN say the reservoir was about ninety percent empty. I can say that the place is surrounded by heavy machinery and building materials. I CAN say this work has been going on for a year and is set to run for at least another two years. I CAN say that before lunchtime today I was out on the hills, on the Pennine Way searching for the water that wasn't there.

It was a bit disappointing, but it was still frikking awesome to be out in the middle of nowhere with some crazy ambience.

Here's a few photos to commemorate the madness of Black Moss.

Dedicated to Yorkshire Pudding and Gonzo bloggers everywhere.


Which way? The Pennine Way of course!


Didn't look like this in the brochure, did it?


Oh well it's a lovely beach.


For beach, read desert.


For desert, read moonscape.


I can see the sea. Do I win?


Come on let's go look.


You can look, but I'm off home.

Gonzo blog doo daa band.

I've got a friend, and his name's Kermit. I also have a long, slightly curly nose!!

I know that's not what you meant.

Unfortunately, this next piece is either going to make me look like some sort of groupie or complete pretentious twot.... alas, I MUST blog it.

What do you do when your favourite artist and sculptor comes to town? You go there and buy the frikking t-shirt, the marmalade, and the over priced event catalogue of course.

That's exactly what we have been doing today.

I promised myself to go and see the Andy Goldsworthy exhibition at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. The very moment I heard there was going to be an exhibition there, I was thrilled and scared. I love his work, but have always loved it from afar. What would happen if I came face to face with a stone wall, or a pile of sticks that didn't live up to my expectations?

So, I have kind of put it off. The exhibition runs until January next year, and has been running for maybe six months already. The time had come, I couldn't put it off any longer, for fear of completely missing it, and never getting such an opportunity again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a trifle nervous.

I was nervous that it'd be full of pontificating arty idiots, who feel they are inside an artist's head, and that you must interpret the works this way or that way, and they'd look over their half moon spectacles at me. Scared of the silent galleries where people stand thirty feet from a picture and tut at you when you walk past their visual field. Scared that the experience might somehow change the way I feel about the man and his work.

Well, I can tell you it's been one of the most memorable days out I have ever had. The weather was gorgeous today, and tramping across four or five miles of country park, dotted with sculptures, to catch all the AG exhibits was made all the more easy for the sunshine.

I can't begin to explain to you what we saw. The most amazing sculptures were (of course) in photography free zones!! Grrrrr. I have a few postcards that I will scan, and a bunch of photos from the other stuff, but here's a taster!!

Huddersfield landmark, Emley Moor mast from Yorkshire Sculpture Park. The tallest freestanding structure in the British Isles!! 330.4 metres!! - (Not one of AG's pieces)


Dumfriesshire red sandstone arches, self supporting.






Cow shit on glass.


Shadow stone fold.


Hanging trees.




Basket #7 Oxley Bank - (Not one of AG's pieces)


Outclosure.

I've been....

.... to Whitby.

It was good. The Gothic capital of England, in North Yorkshire. Home of Dracula and smoked kippers. Plastic buckets and cream teas. James Cook and a whale bone arch. Cobbled streets and full English breakfasts. One hundred and ninety nine steps and a swinging bridge.

I love Whitby.

I have fond memories of Whitby (and the surrounding area) as a child. Rock pooling in Robin Hood's Bay, a cottage in Grosmont, and having my photo taken with Rupert the Bear. I have more recent memories of Whitby from what we must now refer to as a previous incarnation. Now I have memories of Whitby that include Dawn.

We arrived on Saturday lunchtime, with the minimum of fuss. TripAdvisor had helped me select a bed and breakfast, and the genial hosts welcomed us into an establishment that lived up to its excellent reputation.

We left on Monday afternoon, having had a whale of a time.

Points of note:

Having packed all the camera accessories, I forgot to pack the camera, so had to resort to using my mobile phone. Double blunder on my part meant that the few photos I DID take were all done using the wrong settings, and look awful.

I love the pace of life that is dictated by high tide and low tide.

Robin Hood's Bay will always be one of my favourite places on the planet.

Horse riding across Great Fryupdale (you have to love the name of the place!!) and Glaisdale on Wainwright's coast-to-coast walk on a horse belonging to Elle Macpherson!! Not to mention Dawn's face, when I surprised her with this little excursion because she knows that horses and I are not the best of friends!!

Lots of nice food, of which a surprisingly large amount was homemade, full fat, and usually served up with something extra fattening. They do say that fat is merely the vehicle for flavour!!

Great weather.

They say a break is as good as a rest, and what do you know..... it's true!!

Early to bed.....

... early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

I guess my desire to play "need for speed" until all hours ungodly, will mean I am destined to be a sick, stupid, pauper, for all eternity.

It's one AM and I have just hung up my crochet backed driving gloves for the evening, or should that be morning? Even my lovely ambilight television cannot conceal the bags beneath my watery, bloodshot eyes.

I've promised myself to be a better blogger over the next few days. I have so many blogs that I'd like to catch up on.

I remember once, I had a physics teacher, with whom I had established a mutual bond of hatred and fear. When I skived off physics one time, the thought of going back there to face the wrath was too much. Net result was that I never returned to his lesson for the rest of the year.

This is a similar feeling I have to revisiting some of the blogs I have been neglecting lately. The amount of catching up, and the shame of neglecting all those blog entries, and the bloody pressure to come up with a comment for each missed day is tremendous.

Even my own blog is suffering some serious abandonment issues.

I must jolly up my blog, and start writing properly again. I must organise my photos and start posting some of them. I must also start responding to a few comments that get left from time to time.

Starting now:

Spice - The camera in question, that I am saving up for, is a Samsung GX10. The camera and two lenses is just about six hundred pounds, but when you factor all the nice twiddly bits and pieces - spare battery, bag, etc etc then you know I am gonna need a grand.

Y.P. - Yes, I DO want to give up the lozenges. I have heard that the first three months of stopping smoking are the worst, and I intend to use the therapy for that period at least. After six weeks, I will make a concerted effort to reduce the dosage, but until then I am in no rush.... It's not a sprint, it's a bloody tri-peak fell running marathon. Not sure if Dawn prefers kissing an ashtray or a moody, grumpy bastard to be honest?

Here's a fitting photo that I took on St. George's day - it's one of those sit-on-and-ride things, and it's a dragon. (phone camera unfortunately - sorry).



Here's a couple of pics from when I was house sitting at my mum's place. Sheep and millstone grit, and some wild ducks that came to help the chickens eat the sheep's food!! (These are a special gift to Jen and Fred).

This is Yorkshire!!