One of my biggest debates here recently - apart from having time to blog properly - is what to blog about. As often by the time I find a convenient space to sit down and sort through my photos (and thoughts), I often feel the time has passed to share about that, and I'm on to something new.
(handpainted frieze, visitor centre, Rowardennan)
And then there is the matter of identity. Who or what am I portraying or 'subjecting' through my blog. As Jane recently highlighted the question of authenticity is certainly one for consideration. As of course it is natural to want to share the highlights of our days - you won't want to hear about the dreary bits. At the same time, as I feel my mind wander off into this corner of the debating ring... I wonder what is this blog about? And then when I decide it can be whatever I want it to be about, I feel a little dismayed at my own when I see other tightly designed, colourful and creative blogs - that mine isn't like that. But then these are the blogs I like to read - whereas the things I like to blog about are my roamings, observations, some design things, who's been visiting the garden and what I have been creating - the creative process even.
(carved stone panel, visitor centre, Rowardennan)
And in that way I eventually come back to the Patchwork Dress - that life is made up of little things all stitched together. So now, that I have had a hiatus in my work for one week I have a garbled list of things I want to share.. Wondering if these would be better structured as individual posts, or being authentic and streaming them as they happened. All muddled together and patchworky in style.
(monument, Ben Lomond Memorial Park, Rowardennan)
So firstly, after trying to arrange this all summer, my mum came to visit for a couple of days.
(beach at Rowardennan, Loch Lomond)
We had a couple of outings to lovely places driving through the local countryside, lunching at Doyles in Balfron before going up to Rowardennan and Balmaha. But my most enduring memory of her trip will be us both sitting at the worktop infront of my kitchen window, perched on wooden stools, watching the birdlife as we ate our breakfast.
(Falls of Dochart, Killin)
Other highlights were my thoughts about crows and corvids...triggered by reading this book (another thank you to Jane!). As both lunches we had out in villages coincided with the local schools emptying onto the pavements, and for a moment challenging the ruralness of it all with spikey hair and emo attitude. Once the kids had headed back to the school, a clear up team of corvids came in - perched on lamp posts and roofs to swoop down on leftover baguettes (Balfron) or chips (Aberfeldy). My excitement in noticing this arrangement caused the chip I was eating in the window of a nearby cafe to fly out of my hand and into my drink. Not only will we not be eating there again (Suz, you will know the cafe I mean, with the grumpy cafe woman "there is not an egg on the premises" - when I enquired if they had any eggs) - but I probably wouldn't be allowed back.
(looking out to the lovely 'Homer' interiors shop, Aberfeldy - from the Watermill bookshop/café - we loved this begonnia, and how it matches the red of the sign!)
Anyway, back to the book - I was also excited to read that corvids, as well as some other birds, including tits, have a 'cache' behaviour of hiding their food. I had noticed several months ago that the coaltits in the garden were taking seed from the feeders and flying directly to the border of the garden and pushing the seed into the grass or flowerbed. This happened again recently, and I really wanted to get a better look. I was sure they weren't eating it, as they literally flew back and forth doing this, without the time it would normally take to eat the seed. So I was really pleased to read about this and that I hadn't imagined the phenomena. It got me thinking about birds and how one of their jobs (if you excuse the pun) are as major seed dispersers. That somewhere in their makeup this behaviour is related to their relationship to the seeds - by cache-ing, they are infact planting. This may not be uncommon knowledge to those in the know, but I was really pleased to have observed and learned this first hand from my (now favourite) little bird with its everton mint striped head.
In between our sojourns into the countryside I also had to squeeze in some work which was leftover from my last contract. Making up German Codebooks which had been used before and then later during the first world war. I had done some research and managed to track down a codebook from 1910 in the National Archive. For a small fee they will digitally scan and email you images. I then 'mocked' up the stickers based on the front cover which we added to some second hand books.
I also made up some individual books based on the code pages. I really enjoyed doing this, printing onto cream Conqueror paper and then binding them by hand. A technique I'd practiced a bit doing the little books in this post. So now I can see that those skills I gain in either camp of making for myself, or my job, can cross pollinate - or using the coaltit analogy - cacheing the seeds in this blog. There is something quite pleasing and fascinating about the bookmaking process, and I'm inspired by the idea of doing more pieces like this, - I'm not sure what yet.
The strangest thing however was, after telling mum that I'd maybe have to spend an evening while she was here doing these, I switched on radio 4 and there was a comedy drama being aired where the first item was all about German codebooks. We both stood there with our eyes widening. Ah, coincidence, that warm feeling that perhaps I am, after all, doing the 'right' thing.
(more time spent like this, please!)
