Tuesday, July 25, 2017
I saw this overloaded and unkempt spider's web and thought a bit about insect control and facilities management (or FM for short). Then I realised that these things were of little significance and that somewhere a bemused spider was probably fairly happy and well fed albeit his/her front room and general living space is a bit untidy and less functional than it should be. Beware of making snap judgements.
"When all the passwords are lost and forgotten and the electronic memory fades and flickers how will we ever find our way home across that tangled and now hostile web country?"
Monday, July 24, 2017
AI will make the world like one big long acid trip inside your head. I say this because it's clear that the Google bots that shovel effects and tones across photos accidentally (so it seems), see things differently. Their need to emphasise and push the colours can be disturbing at times and unsettling but somebody has programmed them into seeing this as normal, i.e. how those dumb humans on the other side of the screen view the world, plus a layer of hot chocolate sauce on top. They're OK about changing our perceptions. Maybe life with those robot judges, designers, goggle doctors and (ultimately) rulers wont be so bad, it'll be bright at least. That is of course unless it's all some ruse to entice us in and once in out go the lights and away go all the bright shiny things. It makes no sense to have everything up to eleven if it's not productive and so we'll revert to the eternal grey and gloom of power saving mode (unless you pay). Much more sensible.
Sunday, July 23, 2017
Any land that claims to be the land of eternal youth must be worth a visit (unless it's full of grumpy and petulant adolescents), anyway they may have exaggerated the magic a bit but there is some. I've drunk a lot of coffee and eaten a lot of sugary kinds of cake and established by various means of research that the Irish are actually all reasonably happy with their lot. Despite the demise of the Celtic Tiger and the return of U2 (they played Dublin last night) things are looking good generally. True there are a few vacant lots, buskers with bad teeth and desolate housing estates but (they seem to think) they're economy is on the up and that those of us stuck over on the barren Brexit shores of the Irish Sea are a bunch of feckin' eedjits. Fair enough.
Friday, July 21, 2017
blinded by your symmetry
such a friendly fool was me
what to believe and what to see
where to draw the border
minutes later seconds flat
walking with a dog named cat
is this where it's really at?
is life just some long foreplay?
holy spirit holy spirit holy spirit
I practiced in my father's chair
blowing smoke rings in the air
for all I know they're still up there
spinning in some vortex
it ranges over all the earth
breathing hot and giving birth
then they tell you what you're worth
but you're only getting older
holy spirit holy spirit holy spirit
sometimes at night I stay awake
wondering if I've got what it takes
to point the finger at the fakes
but then I just roll over
I let it all roll over
we let it all roll over.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
|We've all had a day like this.|
|I don't recall a day like this one however...|
|Yes, I too have grey socks but no I don't have a house for a head at the moment.|
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Monday, July 17, 2017
There's no such thing as white, too many variations, not that it matters, the human eye cannot tell the truth from fabrication here. Painting white on white is a strange activity, like raking over desert sand or holding water in your hand. You be could anywhere in the long hypnotic process once the glare grips you. There's no sense of up nor down as only white matter fills your fixed gaze. Then the sun pops out and reflects and you're left blinded and still lost in the brutal, white landscape that you are trying to clean up, cover and obliterate. I should have worn goggles or sunglasses or waited until after dark, perhaps destroyed the wall and started again or just shrugged and said "so what!" But I painted onwards and across, the random strokes march up and down, the painted sucked into somewhere full of thirsty molecules instantly leaving no tyre marks or footsteps or glossy brush strokes. Once started there's no stopping because there is no end, I can never run out of white wall because the white wall just goes on until it merges into the blinding light of blindness in some distant spot that I can hardly imagine. I would stand back but I fear the result will be overpowering or messy. But I need a break. Damn, I've missed a bit.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
Sunday afternoon musing, where the mind will wonder given nothing to focus on, these times are precious. So for no particular reason just giving a brief shout out to John Graham Mitchell aka Mitch Mitchell of the Experience (RIP). His fabulous drum lines on "Little Wing" will live forever as will his faultless work on the numerous other Hendrix tracks he played on. "Little Wing" has always been someplace beyond perfect in my humble opinion.There, got that one off and and away from my slightly stressed out chest. I should also say I'm not interested in any "fastest gun in the west" type of competitions, who is the best drummer, bass player, axe man etc. These things surely died out with the old Melody Maker Awards of the 70s and need to stay dead.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Friday, July 14, 2017
Burned the cat's chicken (?), interfered with the dishwasher (??), a catalogue of poor photographic attempts, incorrect laundry settings, not reading the instructions properly, ten pence short, the blatant misuse of tools, saving an insect and then drowning it, swallowing mouthwash, pressing the wrong button on the remote, getting tar on things, ignoring a "funny" noise, head bumps, losing small objects, losing large objects, general problems with location, placing an unknown item in the bagging area, toilet roll on holder the wrong way, failing to hydrate, shaky use of computer mouse, odd socks. None of these things ever happen to me. I am only human after all.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
What you get when you allow the late evening sunlight to shine through a tiny distorted, west facing window and reflect upon the chrome ashtray of a Telecaster and then up onto the bedroom ceiling which may or may not require a fresh coat of paint. It all gave me quite a start. This phenomenal glimpse into a parallel universe only occurs once in a thousand Jurassic years or just after Halley's comet has been discussed somewhere in a dusty room in the hushed tones of those who treat science and it's many mysteries with the reverence that it all truly deserves. There's a photo of an equally blinding chalky equation scrawled on a blackboard that explains it all quite clearly but I've lost it now and I didn't understand it anyway.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
In the wild jungle of tomatoes things are starting to stir, the colours are changing, the sun is turning them red and the slow ripening has begun. I've probably not looked after them too well, not enough cutting back of unnecessary growth and careful attention but it's still looking like a good crop albeit the tomatoes are not large, but maybe that's just the variety they are. The labels on the seeds were in Dutch and long gone. The main thing is that they're edible, hopefully.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Coming back to Scotland from London by train it's possible to suffer a kind of jet lag. A slow deflation and acclimatization that's almost painful. It's an ambience and atmosphere thing, a strange stirring, a foreign and rich but hostile place that's also magnetic and as attractive as a sweet shop or a quiet rustic pub. Get in and explore before you're found out, found wanting. But it's a million messes of people and poverty, unfairness and inequality and the constant reinvention that someone like me from the sticks finds both exhausting and intriguing. It's all too late now, back home to the muggy unpleasant heaviness of summer and the warm and familiar homestead. The cats are rescued from the cattery and the fridge and washing machines are churning full after our break. Services are resumed, phones and posts and bacon rolls. This is home but an away sortie is fun once in while.
Monday, July 10, 2017
In London it's summer, probably is all year round. Back here we have a kind of fake thing going on, a poor man's summer if you will. We're at least ten degrees colder and a lot damper but...we still have a few colours on offer that we can enjoy and keep warm with in this hardened, harsh climate.
Friday, July 07, 2017
Self explanatory really. As the month of July draws us inwards we contemplate our stone age past and ages passed. Then we wonder about what is to come, what grey dark end times or nuclear desolation might there be? Chipping and smoothing stones, water our only lubrication, patience and energy, elbow grease and determination. We work on until an arrow head is formed. In time we'll attach it to a wooden shaft and fire it into the blue yonder. The kill? A rabbit, a bird, a fox, a deer maybe...but that's along way away and there's still proper food in the freezer. Now we're whistling old tunes by Crosby, Stills and Nash.
This is a bit like me this morning, looking for the cats. Or could it be a bit like everyone out there trying to make sense of life, science and religion? You know that way you never quite see the deeper significance of things in paintings, films or books until somebody else explains it or you or until you happen to watch some "ten things" listing clip on YouTube (or you actually get an education).
Thursday, July 06, 2017
The all seeing eye sees, burns the image in, rides the wave of weary headache and then reflects upon the sight. Some things have a point to them, some are pointless, some are worthwhile and some fall into a more confusing category whereby the actual value of the act or deed is unclear. For a moment the all seeing eye is confused, there is an anomaly here, a question that only leaves an empty feeling than somehow cannot be seen. So what if we just stop everything, stop doing anything, allow the grass to grow, the weeds to shoot through, the rot to run riot and to stop even caring? The all seeing eye says that the all stopping solution is unthinkable and so it is, for the time being.
Wednesday, July 05, 2017
The Great Scottish Summer continues on in it's own bitter sweet way. Occasional snippets of sunshine followed by long periods of low cloud, drizzle and full blown rain. What better time for a quiet spot of fishing in one of the local fishery ponds? We lasted about two hours before the weather and the downright cold was enough and this was the fourth of July. Last year's fourth of July was spent across the pond (also at another pond) where the weather was nearly 100 degrees (F) and the flying insects were out and the hot dogs were sold out. The star spangled banner flew in the skies and the prospect of an orange and wrinkled oaf of a president being in charge seemed unlikely, almost unthinkable. Now we've moved into that strange world of increased chaos and uncertainty. None of that has changed the perpetual gloom of the Scottish summer however and of course the fish are still stubbornly refusing to bite (as they did in Florida last year). Better things are of course, just around the corner I hope.
Tuesday, July 04, 2017
When a large section of wetwall meets drywall and two regular doors. This isn't at DIY project, it just seems like one. Having said that it's far better when materials arrive early rather than arriving late. In an ideal world of course they'd arrive just in time but that predictable, steady and safe world doesn't exist anymore.
Monday, July 03, 2017
Today is Fraser Drummond's birthday, Fraser's no longer with us in person but his music has never left, nor has his soulful style and unique spirit. Here's a short video of Confushion in action, shared by consummate musician John Farrell, who's also featured on guitar.
Sunday, July 02, 2017
Puzzled young tomato says, "how come you only water us once in a while, leave us out in the chilly weather and only give us plant food once a week? Where is this all going to end?" Me, "well Mr Tomato, the truth is that it's all going to end in a salad one fine day." (Please note that I deliberately did not mention his rather obvious blemishes, I've no wish to start some kind of controversy but he may well miss the salad part but hit the soup).
Saturday, July 01, 2017
Virgin, by Joseph Beuys, April 4th, 1979.
This came up in my Twitter feed and, strangely for me, I really liked it. Normally this type (?) of artwork leaves me cold as a fish finger in a freezer. Today it's fine. The question is, if I saw this for real in a gallery would I feel the same as I do seeing it as a flat image?
Friday, June 30, 2017
Porsche IMS bearing ex 2003 996 with a mere 84k on the clock. This recovered bearing is still running smoothly as is the new ceramic one now residing in the depths of the engine. So the old one has now been re-engineered into some kind of Darwin Trophy courtesy of Ebay and Gorilla Glue.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Once I was a vegetarian, a drunken fish supper soon ended that phase. Now I eat meat, red occasionally, fish maybe once a week and chicken a little more (if I can get to it before the cats). I suppose a burger counts as red, this one is from FiveGuys or 5Guys or perhaps 5iveGuys. I failed to take in much information during a brief visit. It was pricey for a simple burger (IMHO) but tasty and the bun and the textures were right. Still eating meat bothers me a little, just a bit, there's a tiny voice telling me about animals and environment and methane and slaughterhouses and the future. There's also voice telling me I'm an omnivore and carnivore and crashing bore (a bit like the film). Bloody vegan voices and meaty choices and living things onwards ten times before. So if god didn't want us to eat animals why did he make them out of meat? But then why did he (appear to) make them conscious and give them personalities and big soulful eyes and so on? Also why did he make the best hangover cure a chilly or reheated Big-Mac and not a hearty bowl of salad? Why is it that even in my maturing and slightly decrepit years these life long puzzles and mild sources of torment remain unresolved?
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Mamafubu is a pan-Asian restaurant in Glasgow. It may be elsewhere. They do weird stuff. Kimchi is Korean pickled cabbage, very popular. Vietnamese coffee, very sweet and slow. Bubble tea and bubble cocktails, very bubbly. Chicken and rice, all very chicken and ricey. A wee, slow and reasonably priced treat that's almost exotic.
Monday, June 26, 2017
It's wrong to kick a town when it's down, I know that. So I'm not about to kick Cumbernauld, I'm just nudging and judging. Still this portion of a modern (?) building, as see from a passing bus, must be about the ugliest building anywhere. Of course the design may suit some function or purpose I'm failing to understand. Maybe it grew organically as needs arose. Whatever led up to this doesn't really matter, it just exists now. Some sort of tribute to what you get when you stop caring but still need a structure for your business. "Bravo Cumbernauld!" is the best response perhaps.
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Usually physics leaves me flummoxed, even the most basic stuff. That kind of made last night's Dr Who a challenge. Of course I failed miserably to connect and had to sleep on some of the concepts. Stuck on a space ship 400 miles long and on the edge of a black hole. At the front of the space ship, nearest the black hole, time moves on slowly because of the intense gravity of the black hole. At the other end, further away from the black hole time runs at a different speed (more quickly) as the gravitational pull of the black hole is less. There is an ultra high speed elevator for transporting the crew that runs between both ends of the space ship.
So I get what happens at both ends regarding time being out of kilter. (An interesting feature was that those in the rear end were able to watch those in the front end on TV and observe their very slow time in action running in parallel to their "normal" time). So then, what happens to those who choose to use the elevator between the two areas with their different times and journey either way? I'm sure the writers will either answer or ignore this query next week. One way or another it was actually a pretty good episode of a show that I seldom watch these days. Mind you I never liked the Cybermen, lame villains in my view, albeit this current story about their genesis has a bit of an edge to it.
Saturday, June 24, 2017
Sometimes I don't really know what I'm doing but just do things anyway. Usually that works out fine. Today myself and this old bird and some unafraid and precious passengers did a few laps of Knockhill, Fife's premier road racing circuit. It wasn't really a race, they weren't really laps and the weather wasn't very good but I liked the steady growl that came from the exhaust when a gap opened up and I challenged her to get in there. So that was that. Another highlight was a fine set of Stephen's filled rolls that we feasted upon will hiding out from the elements in the media centre whilst guzzling free coffee and watching Quentin Wilson rabbiting away on a big screen. Then back to earth with a bump as I came home and applied putty to the house windows as part of the lengthy summer maintenance programme.
Friday, June 23, 2017
Something about the term contemporary arts has always made me uneasy, maybe I just didn't understand it or was not sure quite what it applied to. Perhaps it was too vague for a person like me who likes his labels and genres to be neat and tidy. It could be a 60's BBC2 (as was) or Sunday supplement stigma of elitism that I've applied to it. It could be I'm just a bit dumb or stubborn when it comes to certain terms and of course the world of art is full of them and is up it's own arse for a great deal of the time anyway. My poor education hasn't helped. I strangled my own arts career at birth thanks to failing to listen and failing to act as a teenager, you don't easily get over that. Then, when I finally hit a college there was no art in sight, just the saner and steadier worlds of statistics, accounts and law underpinned by a dose of management theory and beer. In retrospect I learned next to nothing and relearned only how to be comfortable in a cocoon of relative ignorance. There I was almost happy.
Now I'm past all that, easy in my own skin and though not well read I'm slightly better read. Truth and knowledge have dripped down onto me like some steady Chinese water torture. All I had to do was be still and let it run past me. Time alive is the best education and so when I sat in a Contemporary Arts Centre yesterday, supping weak tea from a tiny cup and fancy little tea pot I felt no pain or shame. I just blended in, bemused by the backgrounds, the unfinished nature of things, the gift shop mentality, the posters and bills for shows I'll never attend, the glossy pamphlets and flyers, the eager young staff, the conversations and illicit encounters. It's all washing over my head like a life only dreamed and not lived but I'm comfortable with that.
Graduation day, Caird Hall Dundee. Last time I was there Led Zeppelin were playing and it was 1971. Time passes way too quickly I'm afraid.
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
After checking on Instagram, always a reliable source and sanity check for facts and accuracy I've established that some folks think coconut oil is brilliant and others think it's the same slimy stuff that passes through the Devil's genitals. Well I'm already confused but I actually quite like coconuts despite two of them diving from a palm tree in a Miami car park one day and trying to end by life, at a mere 56 years for what it's worth. I was only whistling selections from CSN's first album in a quiet and harmonious tone and minding my own business. So I forgive the coconuts and choose to believe that their oil (hopefully grown and harvested ethically) is an agent for good and good health etc. etc.
Various thought processes kicked in and I was deciding on uses for it and came up with adding it to poached eggs, or put simply poaching eggs in a microwave with a little added coconut oil. It worked fine, that extra, tasteless lubricant allowed them to cook evenly, although it didn't tame the egg's normal explosive qualities. You need to err on the side of caution with eggs in microwaves. Never more than 30 seconds at a time or BOOM! The picture proves it worked. Can't explain why the eggs are square though.