In memory of my father's 90th birthday

Despite the cold, dark and damp of the season, I wish to reflect on the life and times of a very special, bright and dynamic person. William Burns, Marine Engineer, (1932 -1993).

Today, 3rd November 2022, would have been our father Willie Burns' 90th birthday. I find it virtually impossible to imagine him that age, as he was only sixty and a half, younger than I am now, when he was suddenly taken away. So my image and memory of him are of an active, indeed lively fellow. His life was a busy endeavour of work and preparing for work. He thrived on the challenges of fixing and repairing, all things engineering. He was a perfectionist in all that he attempted and he loved to encourage excellence in the pursuits of others. He was my greatest critic, he was a wonderful draftsman and I really respected all that he said about my drawing. We all miss him so very much.

He was born in Queensland, Australia, in a town called Howard, his family emigrated, "down under" in 1927.
He was two when he first arrived in the UK.
He spent his teenage years in Joppa, near Portobello, Edinburgh, where he and his friends became professional jazz musicians. He was a drummer, initially learning his skills in a local pipe band. Then progressing to a traditional jazz band called Sandy Brown's. He also became an engineering apprentice at the Henry Robb Ship Yard in Leith. His father advising him to pursue engineering as a more reliable career. He finished off his apprenticeship as an engineer in the Stornoway firm of Lewis Electrical and Diesel. Soon after completion, he signed up with the shipping company of Alfred Holt's, fondly known as "The Blue Flu Line", named after the famous blue funnels.

He quickly advanced through his Marine Engineering qualifications at sea, becoming one of the youngest to gain a Chief Engineers Qualification at the age of 24 years. Though, he was required to wait for a whole year as the company were not able to insure him to take that command before that time.

He met our mother Barbara Ena MacLeod, in Stornoway, on Christmas Eve 1955, they got engaged on 11th November 1956, and were married in Stornoway, on 12th March 1958.

Like so many young couples of that time, Willie and Barbara, moved around, in various places before returning to settle in Lewis, just prior to the birth of the first, of their four sons, early in 1960. Willie began working in the family business Stephen Burns Limited, a Harris Tweed Mill, in Stornoway.

In 1974, he started his own business, an industrial and marine engineering company, in humble beginnings at the rear of the family home. Over the years he built up the business and acquired a fine reputation for diligence and excellence. He was particularly proud of the workforce that he trained, from junior apprentices to skilled engineers. In return he had a very dedicated and loyal team. The workshop moved twice.

Sadly on the morning of 5th May 1993, he suffered a massive heart attack, at his workshop at 38 Inaclete Road, Stornoway, He died shortly afterwards in the Western Isles Hospital.

In fond remembrance and reflection.

22nd October 2022

People and places are the vital elements of the memories and emotions that make up and contribute to all our lives. We enjoy our families, relatives and friends, and select the environments where we are happy to live and work. These are aspects of life we all hold dear and value very much. In fact we actually try to protect and prolong for as much as possible all that we enjoy, especially the people that populate our lives. But as we journey through life we have to continually contend with the stark and sad reality brought about when we lose those special people that we love... Obviously the progression of age means that losing those special people will grow and this is not something that we can actually ever get used to...

Over recent years, months and weeks I have, personally, felt the heart break of losing many dear and much loved people...Each loss creatives an overwhelming sadness and each leaves a unique void....

Through this personal experience I have come to believe what we must do, when faced with the extreme sorrow of the loss of someone we loved, is focus on all the good and happy memories we have of them and being with them. This does more than simply lift our spirits, as such happy thoughts and memories of people are a positive contribution in the process of bereavement. Our shattered emotions need to heal. It is often said that time is a healer, though I am afraid I really do not feel that time can or does heal. Time takes us away from the initial impact of the shock of the loss

Just over a week ago, on Friday the 14th October 2022, I was in Glasgow to attend the funeral of Lorna, my dear sister in law. This was a most moving and beautiful commemoration of her life, lovingly organised by her four grieving sons. Lorna had many friends, and her loving kindness was well known to the people there who knew, loved and valued her. One very special feature of her funeral was the number of young people in attendance, the friends of her sons who, since their childhood, had always been so welcome in her home.

I knew Lorna for over forty years, we were good friends and she was most kind and supportive to me... It will take me a long time, if ever, to come to terms with the fact that she is no longer with us...I will do whatever I can to support each of my four nephews.

Some thoughts in reflection

KB 22 October 2022

23rd September 2022

As I said earlier in my last post I submitted some work to the local group exhibition Grinneas nan Eilean, in An Lanntair, Stornoway, which ran from the 25th July to 10th September 2022. The opening was on Saturday 23rd July. I had five items, the maximum, and actually only one with a price tag, which didn't sell. I was not at all concerned by that, as I had a much greater thing on my mind...

As, on Saturday 2nd July, my best friend in Glasgow, Roger Guthrie, passed away...the awful news left me completely stunned. He died of pancreatic cancer, it was simply vicious, in effect leaving only days from being diagnosed...Heart sore and filling with questions, I quickly had to find some positivity and focus on the happy and bright character of the wonderful friend I had lost. His two young daughters were looking to me to tell them some cheerful stories from his past. I was pleased to be able to give some good memories, leaving the gift of laughter and a smile.

I first met Roger in October 1979, within a month of my arrival in Glasgow. I had enrolled at the Glasgow School of Art, and was ready to discover as much about my adopted city as possible. To this end I had joined The New Glasgow Society, the country's leading civic amenity society, with a focus on the enhancement of the urban environment and architectural conservation. The society had been established in 1965, in reaction to the poor post war redevelopment and destruction of the nineteenth century architecture in Glasgow. I went along to one of the weekend events, I recall it involved scraping and painting an old church door, to raise awareness of its perilous state of disrepair. Roger was there and he stood out firstly because other than myself he was the youngest other member and secondly because of his distinct appearance. He had long thick black frizzy hair and sideburns, a drooping mustache but shaven chin. Stripped shirt and dark heavy corduroy trousers. He always carried a large very heavy bag often with his jacket stretched over it. He retained the same appearance always, the only change being his shinny black hair became grey. We became friends right away and I quickly learned that he had a certain and special social characteristic which is apparent in Dear Old Glasgow, where people seem to instantly include everyone around into their conversation. With Roger one was swept into his conversation as it emerged swiftly from his mind, he also spoke very fast, as if his speech was struggling to keep up with his thoughts . Within weeks of meeting him I was recruited into the New Glasgow Society's very own planning committee and trained by Roger to check planning applications, and special case work. An architect by training himself, he loved the fact the fact that I was enthusiastic and could draw. For years we met every Wednesday night at 6pm, along with several others. He became my best friend. When I was ill and required to spend a couple months in hospital in 1983, Roger Guthrie was a regular visitor. When he got married I was his best man...He was like another brother to me and so of course there are lots of amazing yarns to tell. He was a very special person, suffice to say the stories of his life were recorded in his obituary which was published in The Times (of London).

So, my life in Glasgow for nearly forty years was very much influenced and inspired by my friendship and association with my good and long standing friend Roger Guthrie. For me, that life had been fortunate in having the stability of a permanent home initially provided by my own parents, and subsequently bought from them by me. It was a very large Victorian West End flat, comprising nine apartments on the top floor and attic of a three storey tenement building, dating back to 1840. I had filled it with art and books.

One Saturday many years ago I went with Roger to the closing down sale at the head quarters of "the Co-op", in Morrison Street, under the Kingston Bridge on the south bank of the River Clyde. No messing; he quickly began the bidding for my purchase of a large architectural model, actually depicting an un-executed design for a shopping complex proposed, some years before, to adjoin the buildings in Morrison Street. I then took over and concluded the bidding. Then was faced with that reality how it would be transported to my flat a couple of miles away. Neither of us had our own transport then! Roger was ahead of me, and the large model was soon down in the lift and outside on Morrison Street. We loaded it on to a shopping trolley, and were on our way along the south bank of the Clyde. Then, across the bridge to Broomielaw and up James Watt Street to one of his commercial stores. All the way there to the amusements of people making their way home from an afternoon in the city, through the rush of Saturday traffic.

Several weeks later that large model found its way to my flat. "...it'll make a wonderful coffee table...", Roger tried to convince me. I finally wrestled it up the tight helix stair into my attic studio and laid it on end there. I removed the perspex cover, giving the sides to an neighbour to construct and cover small planters, for seedlings, for her garden. Then one day, not very long before leaving Glasgow, I had an inspired idea. The base of this model was actually very well made, with expensive materials and I had decided that I must make use of it. First I pulled off everything that could be removed. I now had a collection of fine cardboard scale models of some splendid Victorian buildings. The cardboard Kingston Bridge was hardly worth keeping, so it was chucked. The remainder I painted with white gesso primer. The ghostly shadows of the streets of The Tradeston District of Glasgow shone through the primer. The straight line of the South Bank of Glasgow's River Clyde, emerged as the Atlantic Horizon, in my new concept. As I began to paint the colours and shapes of one of my favourite Lewis beaches, Bosta in Great Bernera. Speaking to a friend of mine, a Latin teacher, she instantly loved the concept of painting a country landscape on a city grid and gave the work it's name "Urban in Campania" (The City in the Country). It became a very relevant and poignantly symbolic art work or painting as I began to make my move from my home and studio, in that old Glasgow flat and start a new life back in my native Isle of Lewis. I was full hope and looking forward helping my Dear Mother...

The painting continued acquiring colours and shapes for a few months after my return "home" to Lewis and then one day I dramatically decided it was complete. It suddenly felt finished. Then when I knew that the Grinneas nan Eilean, was going to be in July this year I mustered some confidence to submit this piece as one of my five. Now, when I heard that overwhelming news, that I had lost another great friend I simply dedicated this painting to his memory.

I feel that I still need to explain the story behind this painting, which I cannot part with...it is both sad and happy in equal measure. I can only think happy and optimistic thoughts when I think of my special friend, Roger Guthrie, who always saw the bright side and sought positivity. I was unable to attend his funeral, in July, but made a special trip to visit his widow and daughters in the first week of September. We managed to fill our time with recalling many happy memories.... RIP Roger.

I now enclose three photographs of the view of Bosta Beach, otherwise titled "Urban In Campania". Looking very carefully it is possible still to detect tug boats and small vessels on the Clyde, vehicles in the streets, and the architectural model makers' shrubs and bushes blended in urban grain of the streets. Then neutralized by my application of white gesso primer.

22nd September 2022

The final flowering of summer 2022... It seems like an absolute age since I spent any moments musing and ruminating here... Just as it feels it was no time at all ago that we were all happily looking forward to the summer. I was bouyed by the activity of my own creative work and comments. Back in April I was trying to develop a blog and update my web site. Then my diary and work commitments kicked in and my time fled away. I am certainly not about to complain as I have had an extremely busy season with my Bed and Breakfast business. But it has actually been exhausting and the end of September will herald a welcome break. It will be a time to take stock and "rest" over the winter. I must apply as much positivity as I can muster to each day, but I find life now presents overwhelming sadness, of which there is little respite...

In May and June I was drawing and painting every day, and bristling with an energizing sence of inspiration. One Thursday morning I bumped into Mr Iain "Clendie" MacLennan, of Kenneth Street, Stornoway and his dear wife Moira, of course we got talking, and the conversation drifted to my family's association with Newton Street, Stornoway. Hearing one or two of the anecdotes of these colourful characters he invited me to write a history of my father's ancestors, The MacAulay/Burns, for the Stornoway Historical Society Journal, ("SY Gone By"). He said, "...Ah, but there's a catch, Cove, you see we'll need it to be ready for a week on...um! Tuesday". I calmy said that was "ok", went straight back into the house and prepared a seven page article with photographs and detailed information well on time. I love doing things like that, and my life has always been about slotting creative pursuits into tight deadlines. But as I grow older I prefer to respect a more gentle approach to treating our old friend Time.

I had also resolved this summer to submit work to the local group exhibition Grinneas nan Eilean, at An Lanntair Art Centre, in Stornoway. This is a most interesting show that has been around since before there was a designated space for showing art work in the town. Open to ALL is still the inclusive ethos. I did decide to put work that would be for sale, including one which had a very special poignancy in my life. The actual painting was the last one that I started in my former studio in the attic of my old flat in Glasgow. But - that story is for another post.

On my 61st birthday

Well I would like to thank all of you who send me such kind birthday wishes, I had a lovely day to mark and celebrate my 61st. Collectively and happily you really cheered this "old" guy up. It was truly my kind of a day. I went out and about through the morning, then again in the afternoon. All the time meeting lots of lovely people, and in the evening had a lovely meal with a friend in the Harbour View Restaurant at the Crown Hotel. There I met more lovely people cousins and friends. Your lovely messages and kind thoughts kept on arriving and I really enjoyed reading them all and responding to each individually.

Like so many others, over the past two years, I have so missed the wonderful human interaction that was our social characteristic, and nature. It was certainly the hallmark of my up bringing. As I get older the real important aspects that matter in this beautiful world, we have been gifted, are those special kind and happy things that people share. with each other. The birthday wish and congratulation.

Thank you all, once again, for adding such a lot of happiness to my birthday, true to form it seems to be getting carried over into the weekend, as we have such a lovely sunny Saturday. KB

The meter and the haircuts

I have so many vivid stories and memories of what was a truly happy and secure childhood. Various vents and circumstances trigger actual people and places, in an honest clarity... Now, as I consider the impact of "The Cost of Living Crisis" and its effects on us at this time in our history, I cannot help but think of how things were in our past. As the service tariffs increase and our heating and lighting costs rise to new heights, I remember how economies were made in the past.

Like most households my childhood home had a coin meter fitted for electricity, we did not have provision for a gas supply, where we were located. The meter was set higher than we actually needed or used, resulting in an over spend, which meant that there was always a surplus due when the meter was read, each quarter. That was a special day which we called the "Meter Man Day", when the actual amount due was set against the surplus. The coins left over were for our spending. That usually meant a trip to the town and first a visit to the barber, for a hair cut. Thereafter a trip to Woolworth's.

These visits were special, and usually took place on the first Saturday after the meter was emptied. The barber was a chap called Kenneth Morrison "Kenny The Barber". His most distinguishing feature were his scissor fingers which moved constantly and with speed, whilst he spoke. He employed two other barbers, one Roddy Wilson and the other Murdo "Murtdie" Ferguson, who lived very near us and whom we looked up to with his amazing quiff hair style, mega sideburns and ability to play the guitar. We four boys each hoped for Murtie to cut our hair. Kenny The Barber's Shop, was the right hand shop of The Stornoway Playhouse Cinema. It had a bench style seat in the waiting area and a there were three traditional faux leather adjustable barber's chairs by each of sinks. The shop smelt of "Brill Cream" and soap, and freshly cut hair required to be constantly swept clear.

Now for some reason one of us brothers took the operative meaning of "hair cut" and therefore associated a"hair cut"with something very unpleasant. Thinking he would be cut. For some time he was terrified of the visit to the barber's and would need to be gently treated and carefully reassured by our mother. There was reward once the hair cuts were done, as some of the surplus coinage from electricity meter would be then divided among us, giving us some spending power in Woolworth's, in the Cromwell Street Narrows. This was where books, toys and the "pck'n mix" counter were the attractions. The "Woolies" store in Stornoway was reputed to be the busiest in the north of Scotland and it's range of sweets certainly was testament to that reputation. This store had been built around 1935, I was fascinated with it's large wire netted globe style gas lighting, with the pull chains that switched them on and off. By the 1960s electric lighting had been installed, but the impressive gas lights remained as back up in case of electric power failure. I can clearly remember seeing them in operation, possibly into the 1970s. Once we made our purchase of carefully selected treats, we were happy to head back home.

trying out blogging

As I consider the impact of The Cost of Living Crisis and its effects on us at this time in our history, I cannot help but think of how things were in our past. As the service tariffs increase and our heating and lighting costs rise to new heights, I remember how economies were made in the past. Like most households my childhood home had a coin meter fitted for electricity, we did not have provision for a gas supply, where we were located. The meter was set higher than we actually used, resulting in an over spend, which meant that there was surplus due when the meter was read, each quarter. That was a special day which we called the "Meter Man Day", when the actual amount due was set against the surplus. The coins left over were for our spending. That usually meant a trip to the town and first a visit to the barber, for a hair cut. Thereafter a trip to Woolworth's.
These visits were special, and usually took place on the first Saturday after the meter was emptied. The barber was a chap called Kenneth Morrison "Kenny The Barber". His most distinguishing feature were his scissor fingers which moved constantly and with speed, whilst he spoke. He employed two other barbers, one Roddy Wilson and the other Murdo "Murtdie" Ferguson, who live near us and whom we looked up to with his amazing quiff hair style, megga sideburns and ability to play the guitar. We four boys each hoped for Murtie to cut our hair. Some of the surplus coinage was then divided among us, giving us some spending power in Woolworth's, where books, toys and the "pck'n mix" counter were the attractions. The "Woolies" store in Stornoway was reputed to be the busiest in the north of Scotland and it's range of sweets certainly was testament to that reputation.      

Spring equinox 2022

Spring, that season of expectation and hope, is with us now. The incredible wonder of nature, and the cycle of life's renewal ought to bring humility and tenderness. But sadly that is an idealistic dream. It has been a whole month since I last settled in front of my screen to vent my thoughts. But what a month, it has been. While I have tried to focus on developing as many as possible of the pleasant and positive aspects life. Vital among these, for a social being, such as myself, is meeting and connecting with the wonderful people, I am indeed fortunate to have, in my life. I have so many dear and precious friends and family. Indeed those who have supported, and continue to support me in various endeavours as I seek to recover from recent sadness, loss and bereavement. Such friendship is truly positive and transcends the negativity that can linger amidst unhappiness. We all know sorrow, we are all acquainted with pain, which is why the current issues and conflicts at large are so disturbing. As if, life were not a daily struggle enough. We do not have to go further than our own front doors to know we are having to face new increases in the expense of living. Oh, and course our world is set off on yet another major crisis. No, not disease or pandemic, this time, but a crazy war. Reminding us of the presence of hatred and destruction. The total madness of which is constantly unraveled through the news. We find ourselves seeking a means to shield ourselves from the most harrowing and disturbing aspects the coverage.

I am coming to the conclusion that for the time being ALL I really wish to do is create art work and cultivate my garden.

Some thoughts for the Spring Equinox 2022.

KB

20 February 2022

Well it has been a while since I last ventured here and mused on the wider world. The last few weeks, preferring to steal myself away, by myself, in my temporary winter studio. By necessity this has been set up on the dining table. As several months ago, my former designated space, for the creation of artistic endeavour, suffered a catastrophic ceiling collapse. This follows a seemingly habitual form, as my former studio in Glasgow - the great attic space above my huge Victorian flat, in the Bohemian West End - the garret leaked for years. I am well aware that water penetrating into plaster will always result in the collapse of the plaster. It usually decides to fall when one is at one's lowest ebb.... I was certainly at a horrid and sad low, when this most recent fall was discovered. But I am not letting this "set-back", hinder my creative drive. I literally and physically have been moving things away from the problem and in the process, i am, beginning the unpacking, and at last, after five years, settling back in, back home which I never seemed to have time to do before now.... I am making time. Somehow, I am finding positivity, which has been essential these past few weeks, which have been crammed with so much sadness and loss, for so many friends, family and people we know and love. It could easily be a time for despair, but I made a promise to my own Dear Mother, before she passed away and a vital element of that promise is that I am going to continue being creative and productive. So I have been drawing and painting every day since the start of the year, this seems to generate even more creative energy and I am a buzz with ideas and inspiration.