Kingfisher footage

Kingfisher spotted on our riverDo you remember I mentioned that a kingfisher had been spotted on the river last week? It turns out it’s a nesting pair and the Farm Manager here, who is like our very own David Attenborough, caught some footage of them. He has a camera with a motion detector so he can leave it in a top secret location as long as necessary to capture the birds.Β I can’t work out how to turn any of the clips into a format that WordPress will accept but here’s a still. It was incredible to see them diving into the water from off screen. Literally, if you blinked you missed it, they were so fast!

There’s a very funny clip where one of the kingfishers catches a fish that’s nearly the same size as himself. He’s whacking it hard on the branch to try and knock it out. At one point he hits it so hard he loses his grip and it falls into the water. The expression on his face his hilarious. He looks all around him, even up to the sky. Now where on earth did that fish go?

As the camera is triggered by motion it showed up a fair few other visitors to the top secret river location. A curious magpie has a good look at the camera, giving it a few enquiring pecks. A bit later two pairs of legs wade up the river, then back down again. One pair of legs were very hairy. The other pair of legs were particularly small and were followed by a little golden boat that looked suspiciously like a washing up liquid bottle being pulled on a string? Hmmm, I wonder who they might be belong to?!

NB. Before I get any rude comments…the hairy legs weren’t mine!

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Fruit leather

bottleboatShearing finished on the farm yesterday. I don’t envy them that job in this heat. This morning the cattle were in the shed at 5am for their vaccinations so as to be done in the cooler part of the day. Here’s the boat Little Owl and I made as an alternative to our wooden boat that kept capsizing. It sailed merrily on the water and Little Owl worked it hard, continually going back and forth across the river rescuing imaginary animals that had become separated from their friends on the other bank.

As well as making boats I’ve been trying my hand at fruit leather. I’ve been at a loss as to what to do with all our rhubarb. It’s such a brilliantly prolific plant that I feel I must preserve its quiet valiance somehow. As you might remember, my attempt at jam last year didn’t go too well. Big Dreamer produces vast quantities of wine and cider from it, and I do make various puddings but there’s only so much crumble you can eat. So, fruit leather!

Essentially you puree the rhubarb, dry it, slice it up, and keep it in an airtight container for later. The recipe I used was actually for apple and blackberry leather but worked out fine for rhubarb. I don’t know who to credit for the recipe as it’s one of those ones that I’ve scribbled down on the back of an envelope some time so sorry if it’s yours! The recipe said 200g caster sugar to 900g fruit. I easily had double that amount of fruit so did 1800g, which produced two baking trays of leather.

I stewed my rhubarb for about ten minutes with the sugar and a minimal amount of water. I whizzed it with my handheld food processor, then put it through a sieve. I know, sieving is such a faff. In general I never put ingredients through sieves when you’re supposed to, mainly because I hate washing the flipping thing up! Anyway, you have to with leather otherwise it doesn’t dry properly. I left the sieve for Big Dreamer. Then I oiled some greaseproof paper, put it on a baking tray and poured the puree on to the tray so that it was less than the thickness of a pound coin. Then I left the tray in the oven at 80 degrees C. Now, my recipe doesn’t specify a time so I got all impatient, turned up the oven and burnt it. Subsequently I’ve learned you need to leave it for twelve hours.

Aside from burning the leather, it was a total nightmare to get it off the greaseproof paper. We managed to rescue a bit from the centre of one of the trays which was absolutely divine so I’m now on a mission to do this fruit leather thing properly. For next time I’ve ordered those brilliant re-usable non-stick baking sheets so that should sort out the sticking problem. I think I’ll also do the drying bit over night so that I don’t get impatient. I wasn’t sure how cost effective it was to leave the oven on for twelve hours even at that low heat, but Big Dreamer did a sum and we’ve worked out it costs about Β£2.40. Put that together with some extra oven shelves to take me up to four trays in one go and I think I’m away. I just need the rhubarb to grow back!

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Purple and gold

The moral right to this illustration is asserted by Hannah FoleyThe fields on the farm are purple and gold with Timothy and Buttercups. If you look closely you find Doves-foot Cranesbill, Common Mouse-ear, and Common Speedwell hidden among the grasses. Beside the river all sorts of wild flowers fill the banks: Fairy Flax, Common Centaury, White Comfrey, Corn Marigolds, Welsh Poppies, Herb Robert, Red Campion, Germander Speedwell, Water Avens, Forget-me-nots, and Herb Bennet. We spotted a Dipper this afternoon. It skitted across the water before alighting on a rock under the bridge, bobbing up and down, regarding us. We’ve heard that a Kingfisher was seen last week on this spot. We keep a beady eye but with Little Owl splashing up and down, pretending she’s the Grand Old Duke of York, he’s probably wisely keeping his distance.

Our river is a spawning river for Salmon. If we keep very still we can spot Salmon Parr gently swimming against the flow so that they appear completely still. They will stay with us for three or four years before heading out to sea. They seem to be enjoying the warm day, collecting in shallow pockets where the sunlight turns the pebbley river bed into a golden treasure trove. Little Owl has a wooden boat on a string that keeps capsizing. We decide to make our own from an old washing up bottle when we get home. If the weather holds we’ll try it out tomorrow.

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Ray Bradbury

The moral right to this image is asserted by Hannah FoleyOn the way home from London today I read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Big Dreamer has been pestering me to read it for ages but I’d resisted because of the weird 70s sci-fi cover on the version we own. I thought it would give me nightmares. I’m the sort of person who is capable of having nightmares in the middle of the day with my eyes open. Today I thought I’d be safe in a crowded train and as it turned out there were two rowdy stag parties in our carriage to keep me firmly grounded in reality.

Anyway, Fahrenheit 451 is brilliant, hence why I’m blogging about it. You’ve probably all read it and are busy rolling your eyes at the computer screen. You’ll just have to skip this post if that’s the case – sorry!

Fahrenheit 451 is about a future America where books are banned and Firemen don’t put out fires, they burn books. The main character is a man called Guy Montag and the story follows his gradual disillusionment with the way of life he’s been living and his journey to become free of it. When Montag goes searching for answers to his questions he is told by another character, “No, no, it’s not books at all you’re looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored lots of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them, at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.” 

Bradbury is asking us to look at life in all its marvellous and fullest detail, and to keep deliberately looking, because for those who do, not only is the world a richer place, but the dystopia presented in the book could never happen. Apparently Bradbury once said that Fahrenheit 451 is not about the state but about people. As human beings we have such a capacity to really touch life at its most wonderful but when we become disconnected from “good rain and black loam”, the opposite is only horror. Not only are we to look and wonder at life but we are to be creative people. Later on another character talks about the death of his grandfather, “He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.” What a brilliant thing to have said about you.

I especially loved how Fahrenheit 451 goes a bit Walden at the end, with Montag’s escape from the city and into the countryside. It particularly suited my mood as we sped away from London and the capitalist ethic of the D&AD show. In the end Fahrenheit 451 is a beautiful encouragement to all of us who “step” to a different tune, however “measured or far away” it might be.

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D&AD stand

ECA_stand_at_dandadHere’s the final Edinburgh College of Art stand at D&AD. Sorry about the slightly cock-eyed montage. The stand’s quite wide and I couldn’t get far enough back to fit it all in. Last night was the private view. The exhibiting students were asked to arrive early for a ‘warm-up’ exercise. It wasn’t actually that bad but I did feel slightly like I’d been transported to the Big Brother TV set as people leapt around the giant white box that is the D&AD show to the back drop of ‘cool’ music and a commentary by a chirpy man on a PA. Any minute I thought I might be asked to go to the diary room.

Manning the stand today there was a real buzz about the place. I don’t think many of the Edinburgh graphic design students made it through to the end of the day without a job offer or a date in their diary for an interview. It was great to see such high hopes coming to fruition. It’s well deserved. Obviously it’s a different kettle of fish for the illustrators. None of us are looking for jobs in the sense of becoming an employee. D&AD for me is about raising my profile in my nation’s capital…and having some fun too! Ten out of ten goes to the cable car trip over the Thames. Loved that! As we soared above the roof tops and the full sweep of the river looping through the city emerged, I thought, what a majestic river it is.

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D&AD set up

This morning I got up bright and early to travel across London to set up the D&AD show at Spitalfields Market. I thought it was highly amusing that I was travelling on the Tube carrying a cardboard tube. My comic genius was lost on my fellow rush-hour commuters but I don’t suppose much is funny about London Underground when you have to navigate the crush on a daily basis.

The first pic shows some of my friends from Edinburgh College of Art unpacking things in our blank stand. Spitalfields Market is a really pleasant place to be. It’s light, airy and it’s obvious that a great deal of thought has been given to bringing it up to date in a sympathetic manner.

The second photo shows some of the other students setting up. Everyone looks bright-eyed and hopeful and so, so young. There are some incredibly talented students here. I’m peacefully philosophical about how my work looks in comparison. I know I need to develop and practice but I’m in no rush. I want to take my time over it and be considered. It’s one of the most valuable lessons I’ll be taking away from my final year.

The last picture shows Falmouth University’s stand. Most stands were a long way from being finished when I left but from what I could see, this was my favourite. It’s full to the brim of some stunning illustration work.

So, it’s time for me to get my glad rags on ready for the opening night and the private view. I’ll return tomorrow with a picture of our finished stand and highlights from the evening. Oh and if you’re wondering what Little Owl has been up to while I’ve been doing all this she’s just back from the London Aquarium with Big Dreamer and liked the penguins best!

 

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D&AD work

As promised, here are the two pieces I will be taking along to show at the D&AD New Blood show. They’re natural history posters aimed at primary school children. The idea is that they can be used as window stickers in a classroom…pretty and informative! I’ve also produced them as smaller A3 fold out leaflets. Don’t my thumbs look strange in the last picture?!

 

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Haring along

In the late part of this afternoon, on our way home from visiting friends, Little Owl and I encountered a hare on the road. He bounded out of an open gateway in the hedgerow before turning to gallop along beside the car. I slowed right down, worried I’d hit him, but he gave me a nonchalant look and proceeded to accompany us for about a mile. It was just as if we’d met a neighbour on an evening stroll. Eventually, with a final nod of those black-tipped ears he bobbed under a gate, as if to say, “Well, lovely chatting but this is me.”

I’ve been busy getting work ready for the D&AD New Blood show in London, where I will be exhibiting along with some of my fellow students from Edinburgh College of Art next week. D&AD stands for Design and Art Direction, and they’re all about promoting excellence within the design world. It’s a pretty prestigious thing to attend so I’m very pleased to be going but I’ll be honest, I do have reservations about it. I suspect that every thing I live for may be a bit of an anathema to the sort of culture D&AD extolls. The message I get from all their promotional activity is that they’re focussed on design celebrity, aggressive competitiveness and the sort of people who spell ‘new’ ‘nu’. Oh I do sound negative. I’m open to being entirely wrong. Tomorrow I’ll post up the work I’m taking.

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To-ings and fro-ings

Following on from yesterday’s post I’ve been thinking that it’s been a bit of a week for thinking about death and loss. Now that’s a cheerful way to start! Little Owl discovered a baby rabbit dead underneath our garden bench today. She didn’t suggest we fix it, like she did with the flattened hedgehog. This time she understood that the rabbit wasn’t coming back. She even had a theory about how it died. She suggested that it had jumped over the bench and smacked it’s head on landing. She turned to look at the bench and said, with a big sigh, “Seat is dangerous for rabbits.” When did she learn to say dangerous?!

The necessary chopping down of the beloved horse chestnut where the rope swing hung was another opportunity to explore the difficult topic of life and death with Little Owl and I’m pleased that we’ve been able to do it quite naturally, as part of the normal rhythms of daily life here. Good news on the rope swing front is that we have installed a new swing on a wonderful old beech tree in the wood at the bottom of the garden. The ground falls away steeply so that when you swing out to the furthest point you really feel like you’re reaching for the stratosphere. Here’s Big Dreamer giving it a try.

To round off this post I’d like to recommend a feature that’s been broadcast as part of Radio 4’s PM programme this week. After the death of the newsreader, Rory Morrison, the show has been running a slot about what it is like to hear a recording of the voice of someone who has died. Each evening they’ve interviewed a listener about a recording of a deceased loved one and then played the clip. I know so many of us carry people in our hearts who aren’t around any longer. It’s not just that, we experience loss in all sorts of ways in our lives. Well, for anyone who’s feeling that particularly keenly at the moment, do go and listen to this feature. It’s very powerful and so uplifting. I was especially moved by Wednesday’s listener, a lady who had a tiny clip of her husband laughing, caught by accident on a jazz recording he played on. She spoke quietly and beautifully. I came away with a deep feeling of peace about all the to-ings and fro-ings in my life.

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Molly Drake

Poem by Molly DrakeI missed Mark Radcliffe’s folk show on Radio 2 last night so have been catching up on it this afternoon via the iplayer. The show was dedicated to the musician and singer-songwriter, Nick Drake, who sadly died in 1974. He would have been 65 yesterday, hence the show’s celebration of his life.

Mark did a great interview with Nick’s producer and mentor, Joe Boyd, and they talked about Nick’s mum, Molly. Home recordings of some of her songs were released earlier this year and she is considered a key influence on Nick’s music. These songs were recorded by her husband and never meant for broadcast, so there’s something especially open and beguiling about them. One of her songs, Poor Mum, was written in response to Nick’s song Poor Boy. It’s a gentle reminder to him that he isn’t the only one with the sort of emotions he’s expressing. In fact, her poem The Shell, suggests that she well knows the terrible duality of so many creative souls: far-seeing eyes but paper-thin skin. Molly seems a very special lady, and of course, she was mum to a very special man.

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