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.

27 December 2021

As one born in the brighter days of the year, for me, the late spring, is very much my time. I thrive on the bright early dawns and watching the regrowth in the garden. Nothing better than the sense of optimism in the air. But, must admit, I am actually terrified of the dark days of the late autumn and winter. Therefore, the forced effort of challenging the sheer lack of light induced activity, really tires me out. This is a recognized phenomenon known a seasonally affective disorder (SAD). I certainly suffer in these darker days. I have often considered a sort of hibernation. But there is happily so much of celebration to enjoy and a huge amount of fun be gleaned from being active and engaging with life at this time of year. There is no way that I am going to be denied the chance of demonstrating my social being. What miss a party, even if it is a virtual effort! On Tuesday (21st December), just after 4pm, eight minutes (I think), we had the Winter Solstice, when everything gets sort of reset and our planet is tilted back, in it's alignment to capture the light again. For me that change was profound and significantly felt. Certainly worthy of celebration in itself...I felt revived and woke with enough energy, on Wednesday, to get up and on preparing for the next few days. Days, that I was, earlier, in fact dreading... Especially as this was to be my second Christmas Day, without my Dear Mother... So with her, very much, in my mind and an incredible determination, I managed to get through it... However, I did feel the second one has been even harder than the first., The reality of the passing of time has been highlighted. The big question is, does the passing of time actually heal the pain of grief?... Can that question ever be answered? Then the great comfort of happy memories come to the forefront of the mind. I have a huge volume of memories that really keep me going. The other thing that I wish to be able to achieve is my idea to lead others in the happy encouragement of creative pursuits during the dark winter days that I have referred to. To this end, I really had hoped, before now, to have established what I call, "art, craft, nibble and dribble" social evenings, thus bringing together like minded creative people. The idea being, to enjoy the making of good things, in an inclusive, supportive, social and communal atmosphere. This is something I wish to achieve, once we are socially permitted to be able to do so.

Oh some restless thoughts at mid-night, on The Feast of Stephen. KB.

7 December 2021

For host of reasons, I am finding the most vivid of memories of my childhood come rushing to the surface of my mind...In my last post here my memories of the happy little house where I was born. Warmth, laughter and excellent cooking were the features that prevailed there and, of course, got taken to our next home. In these minds eye reruns it seems every frame is filled with people...our family and friends. The big dining table in the living room, was always set for "the extra guest" or more, and the places always filled.

The meals in our home were well planned and expertly cooked by our mother. She had studied dietetics and nutrition, in Glasgow. Everything she did was well managed. Back in those early days, the 1960s, I remember, the meals related very much to shopping trips and the supply and availability of items of food. The week was punctuated by the trip or trips to town.

Tuesday was very important as it was Family Allowance Day, so that was the main food shopping day of the week. There was a regular and frequently used bus service, at the end of the road and we were very lucky as our family had use of a car. Our mother had passed her driving test just before her eldest child was born. She would often comment that this gave her a great sense freedom and confidence...She was to enjoy driving until she suffered a stroke, in February 1994, less than a year after the death of our father and granny (her mother)...Some days she would have the use of the car, driving our father to his work and then being able to get about all day. I remember from times not at school, Tuesday mornings involved a lot of queuing. First at the Post Office, in Francis Street, to collect the essential Family Allowance, lots of women met here every week, and then followed the same pattern down the street. To queue again in W. J. MacDonald's, "Willie John the Butchers", which usually followed the Post Office. Here our mother purchased enough meat and dairy produce to provide several meals. As I explained in an earlier description we did not have a croft or life stock, so we were rather deplete in the experience of such fundamental aspects of our rural life, though we did have hens that provided a wonderful daily supply of eggs. Butcher shops, in the 1960s were still literally raw places, with blood dripping animal carcasses hanging on meat hooks, from wall mounted rails. The floor covered in saw dust. They were none the less clean. "Willie John's", has been transformed over the yeas, but it is still a great local shop now in different ownership. We still go there.

Now I vividly remember Willie John MacDonald himself, indeed a substantial man in every way, he was very fond of my Dear Mother. They always quoted Robert Burns poetry to each other when he served her. I remember he wore a brown overall coat, under his blue and white striped apron.

A quick dart across the then two way traffic of Francis Street, got us to Hugh Matheson's, or Forsythe's, baker and grocer emporium. Here before the time of pre-packaging everything was slice cut or scale measured. Such shops actually smelt genuinely and beautifully of fresh product, rarely found in the vacuum packed era of today.

Further along, in Point Street, there was another such shop, Malcolm MacLean's, "Calum Sgiathanach", baker and grocer, later known as The Stag Baker's, after it's bakery relocated, to Stag Road, in late 1960s or early 1970s. Their shop in Point Street fascinated me as a child, as right throughout the year it had twisting tinsel decorations hanging from the ceiling. I was also aware of multi coloured glass in the doors and windows.

Because she baked herself, shop bought cakes were not ever on our mother's list. The only exception was if she spotted a special variety called "Kunsel"(?) cakes, rich chocolate confections, which I have not seen for decades. There would of course be purchase visits to many of the other shops in the town and we were well served by traveling shops and vans. But Tuesday morning established itself as the practical time for the main shopping for food.

29 November 2021

As a person intent on establishing multiple layers of positivity, for survival and certainly one who thrives on maximum intensity of day light. For me, the month of November has always been most challenging. As we all know, the last four weeks have been a constant continual of dark, dismal, wind and rain, hardly any day light and needed a special distraction, to generate cheer. For once drifting back in time was a bright option...My memories are genuine and clear. Mine, was a happy childhood, our home a pleasant retreat and sanctuary indeed.... to which, we often brought school friends back, to share the fresh home baking, and then tea table always set with extra places. Our first house, was a typical single storey "Board of Agriculture", croft house, though we had no croft and barely enough land to hang a line of washing at the back. The front, had a rocky terrain due to the remains of a black house. Nothing much grew there, and it was a dangerous place to play football, too dangerous for me and possibly explains why I never enjoyed that sport! Inside we had our living room, with its large dining table, and the solid fuel stove from which the hot water and heating was generated. The room at the other end of the house was the bedroom for the four of us boys. With it's double bed and bunk beds. To the rear was the other bedroom or more like "roombed", a very small space for our parents. The kitchen and bathroom, extended at the back. The kitchen was really too small for the whole family to sit to a meal, but it was nonetheless lively. A place where wonderful food and fabulous baking was created several times a day. We had a large glass porch at the front, where the light was left on every night, the font door never locked and the phone in the "lobby", was the only one at that end of our village and available for our neighbours to use day and night.

Happy as we were in our little whitewashed house, in Lower Sandwick our family had literally outgrown it. When I was eleven, we moved to an all together much larger house, a home customized for our family's requirements and architect designed. We now each had a bedroom of our own, but it took a few years before we actually settled into bedrooms of our own. Preferring to share with another brother.

Some memories of the little house where I was born. KB

23 October 2021

Positivity being what it is, I took myself in from the back garden - my hide away space - yesterday afternoon, to make two phone calls to two long established family friends. My maternal granny often said, that when people come to mind, it is a sign to make contact with them. That is exactly what I did, and found them both to be doing fine, considering everything. The second person I called, spoke briefly and asked to call me back, I suggested after it started to get dark. Thus ensuring a little more time digging and tidying, in those brief moments of autumnal sun and day light. In conversation it was mentioned that there had been an item of news earlier, that I would be interested in...I most certainly was. Indeed I am delighted to hear the outcome of the long awaited deliberations of the SOBC (Strategic Outline Business Case), on the future of the twice fire ravaged Glasgow School of Art. As announced by Professor Penny Macbeth, The Director of The Glasgow School of Art. Thankfully it finds in favour of a faithful reinstatement of architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh's iconic building. This news certainly lifted my spirit and has fended off any deflated feeling with the storm that is thrashing us here at the moment. The idea that the place that inspired so many of us fortunate enough to pass through those magic swing doors at the top of it's sweeping entrance steps, can actually rise again is wonderful on many levels. It gives back the opportunity to inspire future artists and designers of every discipline, from every corner of the world... It gives other opportunities for creative skills and expertise in traditional building techniques, and training, and employment... It gives back a unique building to our country and the wider world... But it certainly and most of ALL gives back the Great City of Glasgow - my own adopted home for almost forty years - and its wonderful people, back the special building and place that they were most proud of. Their sadness and concern at it's two devastating fires, and their generosity and contribution to it's repair was outstanding and overwhelming. This is good news and the outcome we had hoped for. KB

9 October 2021

One of the most rewarding greetings a person can give or receive...is..."you are looking good". No, not..."you are good looking", no doubt, that could lead to a number of misinterpretations. But "you are looking good", applies a most positive feeling to meeting someone, and can, I think, be a life line when a bit of the old"feel good factor" is required. Now, I experienced this lovely feeling on Thursday morning (7th October 2021). There I was amidst a time of quiet reflection, going through the motions of tidying the kitchen, when a particular cousin came into my mind. She had earlier, in the week, sent me a message to say that she had returned home to the island, last Saturday, after a few weeks away, and that she was looking forward to see me very soon... Now there are some people in the world who simply sparkle, brighten and illuminate, this cousin of mine is such a person. My granny was, my aunties and my mother were all like this. Indeed the women in the family, are just special So as I was pondering, how soon our next get together was going to be...the door bell rang...and there she was. This was the energizing force I was in need of, it certainly be a time of, fun yarns and good ideas and inspiration. I gently ignored her phrase, that she was "oh not able to stay", but I beckoned her to come through, to sit and have a cuppa. And then she told me..."Kenneth"..."you are looking good"... That was the most wonderfully uplifting thing that anyone could have said to me on that particular morning. It was so good to hear, even if perhaps, there was some room for improvement, in every aspect of my appearance!. My feel good factor was achieved, and I felt healthier and re-charged, in an instant. I was, at once "go-getter", and "positivity-personified".

When my dynamic cousin went off, I thought I must, now, apply the positivity that I now felt, to things that I needed to do and have been wanting to do, for a while. The obvious application of all this idea of looking good, is to be feeling good, as well... I imagine there is a connection. So where can I start and what actually needs the most benefit from a blast of such positive energy. Apart from health and fitness, it will be my surroundings and spaces, more specifically my house and garden. As I focus on the last quarter of the year, I wish try out these theories. With any luck my full being will benefit, and the process will be uplifting and enjoyable.

Some thoughts on positivity, to welcome day break - however dull

Saturday 9th October 2021. KB