I love the effects of changing light, colours and patterns, whether it's
looking at a blue sky through a canopy of gently moving leaves, the
sparkle of sunlight on moving water, or even the glitter of sequins and
beads on a dancer's costume. In the ongoing effort to get my new office/workroom sorted out, I'm revamping a stack of nesting quadrant boxes by covering them in self-adhesive holographic foil, which will create some bright and beautiful storage on the back corner of my sewing desk. The downside may be that I just sit and gaze at them, mesmerised by the shifting spectra (honestly, I can give it up any time I want to ...). At least my sewing notions will be neatly stored and free from dust and cat hair!
During unpacking, I found a kaleidoscope which I bought to entertain the step-children (well, that was my excuse, although it's not a patch on the tin one I had when I was young. I don't know what happened to that one, probably broken and binned long ago!) There is something fascinating in the way the mirrors create different patterns, no two ever the same. Now I've got a digital kaleidoscope, and can create endless patterns from some of my photos, but the key is finding the right original photo. The kaleidoscopic images from some photos are completely uninteresting or way too messy,
while others create such nice patterns that it's difficult to choose. I am quite fascinated by the images and play with them until I feel I've found the right one.
A few years ago, I started creating images for sale on various print-on-demand sites such as RedBubble and Zazzle, but was dithering over whether they
were good enough, the sort of images I wanted to create, how to achieve that and various related
technical issues. Plus, some of the artwork on these sites is totally awesome,
would anyone look at mine? But, to my amazement, a few lovely people have bought items using my images! I realised that it is hopeless comparing yourself to other
artists, and trying to second-guess what people will want to look at or
buy. In publishing our art, we're creating diversity and abundance,
something for everyone.
Recently, I was chatting to my artist friend Heidi Norman about my former lack of confidence in my work, and my renewed drive to create the sets of images I have planned. Heidi, knowing that I tend to be a perfectionist and a powerhouse of creative ideas herself, encouraged more of a 'just do it' attitude. After all, I have quite a lot of digital images to play with. I've also started to unpack the old photo albums (and umpteen packs of prints which hadn't made it into the albums at the time of packing up a previous life!)
So I’ve rebooted myself, and have been busy
creating and loading new images, especially digital art to add to the Belly Dance collection and the Kaleidoscope Mandala Art
for Celtic Festivals, Chakras, Starflakes (is it a snowflake or a star, or both?) and a growing collection of bits and pieces involving things like flowers, butterflies, lights and concepts of the natural world such as the seasons and elements.
I refer to them as Kaleidoscope Mandalas, as they aren't traditional mandalas of symbolic images in a geometric shape, but the kaleidoscopic mirroring creates repeated patterns which act like a mandala, as a focus for attention and aid to meditation. As you look, your eyes are drawn around the outer circles of the pattern and into the centre. As your whirling thoughts slow down and start to freewheel, your mind picks out different shapes; faces, crowns, hearts, butterflies, dragonflies, aliens, robots, birds, dancing figures with upraised arms, goddesses, Buddhas, scarab beetles, angels, temples, petals, arrows, feathers, flames.
Apparently, the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung believed the urge to make mandalas emerged at times of intense personal growth and change. This sounds about right to me. I haven't felt such a strong drive to create in years, and it certainly has been a year of changes for me.
It takes some time to upload new work, create and edit various product offerings, but you can now find increasing amounts of my work on the following sites:
RedBubble http://www.redbubble.com/people/imagomoth
Zazzle http://www.zazzle.co.uk/dancingmoth*
DeviantArt http://dancingmoth.deviantart.com/
Cafépress http://www.cafepress.co.uk/profile/dancingmoth
Please feel free to treat yourself and make me a few pennies in commissions! ;)
Depending on your browser and plugins, you may be able to see my Zazzle panel in the right-hand column, scrolling through various products and images. You can also find Heidi on RedBubble and her Spanglefish website. She is also translating some of her designs for clothing through Vida, well worth a look (or better still, a pre-order!).
Current earworm: The Windmills of Your Mind (but the Kaleidoscope Mandalas are something of an antidote to the restless, troubling thoughts!)
A reflective journal of my Dancing, Gardening, Arts and Crafts, Working, Domesticated and Wild Life.
Friday, 26 February 2016
Tuesday, 5 January 2016
Happy New Year 2016
Well, here we are again. Most of the people I know seem to have had quite an eventful 2015. Some had nice life events; engagements, marriages, babies, new jobs. Some had difficult or sad events such as surgery, deaths of pets or family members. Some had a perfect storm of horrible events; death, divorce, forced sale of their home, diagnoses of chronic and/or serious illness for themselves or family members, car accidents, multiple breakdowns of things like computers and white goods. I don't know what it was about last year, but many people are glad to see the back of it. It was a year of changes for me, but I feel like I got off relatively lightly. My house purchase and move went okay, despite coinciding with exams and a biopsy, the results of which showed nothing to worry about. Although I only managed to get one job interview and that was a 'no', and class attendance has been at an all-time low, the osteoarthritis has been relatively good; all the yoga, mindful movement and daily physio exercises have paid off. Things could be worse.
As ever, the time has flown by since I moved. I see I didn't blog much this year, probably because I would just be repeating myself about cleaning furniture, unpacking boxes, sorting things out. And yet I managed more beach time this year, even if it was less about lolling around with a book in the sunshine and more beach-combing in a chilly breeze.
As I mentioned in a previous post, a lot of the time has gone in problem solving. Working out how to fit furniture into rooms of a different size and shape. Moving bits of furniture and heavy boxes on my own (it's all about levers - I even managed to right my swing seat when the last lot of high winds tipped it over on the patio). Trying to fit things into a kitchen which has more cupboards than my previous one, but paradoxically, less space because the cupboards are all smaller. Drying washing indoors without my beloved laundry maid airer (no space for it in the new place, unfortunately). Getting the computer, TV and other bits of media kit connected. Trying to get the Christmas lights working. (Lay them out flat - a miracle, they all work! Fight with the metres of twisty wires to arrange them on the tree and switch on again, wow, all working! Switch on the next day, a set of 10 has gone off. Uttering my usual mantra 'Okay, I can do this, lots of people do it, how hard can it be?' Find the spare bulbs and set to work trying to find the one that's blown. None of them look as though they have blown. The instructions to 'just ease the bulb out of the holder' belie the difficulty of removing them. A couple of hours and wrecked thumbnails later, I have replaced all 10 bulbs in the loop which failed and not managed to fix the problem. Decided that I need to leave it otherwise I'll never get the tree decorated and add some sort of voltage detector device to the wishlist.)
What is it with me and heating systems though? Back at the beginning of the year, I had a freezing few weeks in my old place when the pump failed, the boiler tripped off and I couldn't get responses or sensible help from heating engineers to fix it. Now, the heating and hot water here have gone wrong. I already knew this heating system would need replacing, and the grand plan was to replace the back boiler with a new combi boiler vented through the roof, and replace the gas fire in the living room with a small woodburner. The quote I had from British Gas for the boiler and plumbing came to £6500, which was pretty much £2000 beyond my budget. I meant to follow through with other quotes, but as each job application was rejected, it seemed impossible that I could afford it in the short term.
In the meantime, the heating and hot water at least worked, after a fashion. I found early on that the timer controller in the airing cupboard didn't actually work, and was told by the seller that they used to leave the heating on 'continuous' in the winter and just let the thermostat switch it on and off. Once I started the heating for the winter, I found that in fact the thermostat didn't seem to work at all. Then, with an alarming whirring noise a few days before Christmas, the heating went off. Switched off and on again. Nothing. Switched on the gas fire - that works. Switched on the hot water, the water doesn't heat but the heating comes on instead. Rummaged around in the airing cupboard, failed to find a separate immersion switch. Gave the 3-way valve a tap or two with a hammer, just in case, but no difference. Called a few heating engineers - all calls went to their telco messaging services and I received no call-backs. Ditto a few calls made between Christmas and New Year. At least I have an electric shower, the washing machine and dishwasher are cold fill, and I can boil a kettle for other washing up, but it's a bit tedious not having hot water on tap when you're used to all mod cons*. I know, #firstworldproblems.
So, the year has turned a corner, the days are supposed to be getting longer (difficult to tell, as the weather continues mild, wet and windy) and in addition to the preparation for this term's classes and the looming tax deadline, I need to find a heating engineer who answers their phone and is willing to tackle an older system to restore my hot water.
Happy 2016! Let's hope it's a good one for all of us!
*Note for non-English readers and space aliens: 'All mod cons' stands for 'all modern conveniences', that is, things like electricity, central heating, hot and cold running water and an indoor bathroom and toilet; a phrase which used to feature in adverts for places to rent or buy and which you don't see any more, presumably because it is taken for granted.
As ever, the time has flown by since I moved. I see I didn't blog much this year, probably because I would just be repeating myself about cleaning furniture, unpacking boxes, sorting things out. And yet I managed more beach time this year, even if it was less about lolling around with a book in the sunshine and more beach-combing in a chilly breeze.
As I mentioned in a previous post, a lot of the time has gone in problem solving. Working out how to fit furniture into rooms of a different size and shape. Moving bits of furniture and heavy boxes on my own (it's all about levers - I even managed to right my swing seat when the last lot of high winds tipped it over on the patio). Trying to fit things into a kitchen which has more cupboards than my previous one, but paradoxically, less space because the cupboards are all smaller. Drying washing indoors without my beloved laundry maid airer (no space for it in the new place, unfortunately). Getting the computer, TV and other bits of media kit connected. Trying to get the Christmas lights working. (Lay them out flat - a miracle, they all work! Fight with the metres of twisty wires to arrange them on the tree and switch on again, wow, all working! Switch on the next day, a set of 10 has gone off. Uttering my usual mantra 'Okay, I can do this, lots of people do it, how hard can it be?' Find the spare bulbs and set to work trying to find the one that's blown. None of them look as though they have blown. The instructions to 'just ease the bulb out of the holder' belie the difficulty of removing them. A couple of hours and wrecked thumbnails later, I have replaced all 10 bulbs in the loop which failed and not managed to fix the problem. Decided that I need to leave it otherwise I'll never get the tree decorated and add some sort of voltage detector device to the wishlist.)
What is it with me and heating systems though? Back at the beginning of the year, I had a freezing few weeks in my old place when the pump failed, the boiler tripped off and I couldn't get responses or sensible help from heating engineers to fix it. Now, the heating and hot water here have gone wrong. I already knew this heating system would need replacing, and the grand plan was to replace the back boiler with a new combi boiler vented through the roof, and replace the gas fire in the living room with a small woodburner. The quote I had from British Gas for the boiler and plumbing came to £6500, which was pretty much £2000 beyond my budget. I meant to follow through with other quotes, but as each job application was rejected, it seemed impossible that I could afford it in the short term.
In the meantime, the heating and hot water at least worked, after a fashion. I found early on that the timer controller in the airing cupboard didn't actually work, and was told by the seller that they used to leave the heating on 'continuous' in the winter and just let the thermostat switch it on and off. Once I started the heating for the winter, I found that in fact the thermostat didn't seem to work at all. Then, with an alarming whirring noise a few days before Christmas, the heating went off. Switched off and on again. Nothing. Switched on the gas fire - that works. Switched on the hot water, the water doesn't heat but the heating comes on instead. Rummaged around in the airing cupboard, failed to find a separate immersion switch. Gave the 3-way valve a tap or two with a hammer, just in case, but no difference. Called a few heating engineers - all calls went to their telco messaging services and I received no call-backs. Ditto a few calls made between Christmas and New Year. At least I have an electric shower, the washing machine and dishwasher are cold fill, and I can boil a kettle for other washing up, but it's a bit tedious not having hot water on tap when you're used to all mod cons*. I know, #firstworldproblems.
So, the year has turned a corner, the days are supposed to be getting longer (difficult to tell, as the weather continues mild, wet and windy) and in addition to the preparation for this term's classes and the looming tax deadline, I need to find a heating engineer who answers their phone and is willing to tackle an older system to restore my hot water.
Happy 2016! Let's hope it's a good one for all of us!
*Note for non-English readers and space aliens: 'All mod cons' stands for 'all modern conveniences', that is, things like electricity, central heating, hot and cold running water and an indoor bathroom and toilet; a phrase which used to feature in adverts for places to rent or buy and which you don't see any more, presumably because it is taken for granted.
Monday, 14 December 2015
December Already?
So it is! The weeks have been flying by and it's now only a week until Yule!
Apparently, November was unusually warm. Not that we had much sun - it was also unusually dull and wet. The relative warmth was due to the lack of frost here, only one real frost so far this winter and that didn't occur until around the 21/22 November. I can't remember the exact date, and didn't take a photo even though the fields behind the house looked rather nice dusted with ice, but I do remember thinking that it was about a month late compared to where I used to live.
We've had four winter storms in the seven weeks or so since the Met Office and Met Eireann started the named storms project to raise awareness of severe weather and to track how many storms we get over winter. I don't think I need my awareness raised, but it seems some people still don't take enough notice of severe weather warnings.
I understand that storms and severe weather warnings (and for that matter, the EA flood warnings) have a linked but separate existence, but I'm unclear on the criteria for a storm and for severe weather warnings. South West Wales was outside the area for severe weather warnings during storm Desmond, and yet there was heavy rain, flooding, and damage from high winds. In fact, when I went out to teach the other Thursday evening as storm Desmond started to build, it felt worse than on the previous Monday, when I cancelled a class due to the (then) severe weather warning. I left a comment on the Met Office Facebook page asking for clarification; given a reasonably high likelihood of the forecast, how much rain and how high a wind speed/gusts are required to be thought impactful enough to generate the severe weather warning? And when is stormy weather bad enough to be a named storm? Unfortunately, it seems the Met Office doesn't answer their visitor posts. And, judging from some of the comments on their posts, many of their visitors don't read the older posts or really understand the forecasts either, so there's lots of whinging comments about naming storms and the inaccuracy of forecasts.
I'm seeing far more birds now than earlier in the year, including a Robin who regularly comes to the garden, Blue Tits searching out spiders from the window frames and many more Starlings. The Swallows slipped away gradually at the end of the summer, and although I've seen flocks of winter thrushes flying over, none seem to settle on the horse fields behind the house. Back in September, there were often early morning skeins of geese flying over and I saw a Kestrel out looking for lunch one day when I was emptying the compost caddy into the main bins.
Apparently, November was unusually warm. Not that we had much sun - it was also unusually dull and wet. The relative warmth was due to the lack of frost here, only one real frost so far this winter and that didn't occur until around the 21/22 November. I can't remember the exact date, and didn't take a photo even though the fields behind the house looked rather nice dusted with ice, but I do remember thinking that it was about a month late compared to where I used to live.
We've had four winter storms in the seven weeks or so since the Met Office and Met Eireann started the named storms project to raise awareness of severe weather and to track how many storms we get over winter. I don't think I need my awareness raised, but it seems some people still don't take enough notice of severe weather warnings.
I understand that storms and severe weather warnings (and for that matter, the EA flood warnings) have a linked but separate existence, but I'm unclear on the criteria for a storm and for severe weather warnings. South West Wales was outside the area for severe weather warnings during storm Desmond, and yet there was heavy rain, flooding, and damage from high winds. In fact, when I went out to teach the other Thursday evening as storm Desmond started to build, it felt worse than on the previous Monday, when I cancelled a class due to the (then) severe weather warning. I left a comment on the Met Office Facebook page asking for clarification; given a reasonably high likelihood of the forecast, how much rain and how high a wind speed/gusts are required to be thought impactful enough to generate the severe weather warning? And when is stormy weather bad enough to be a named storm? Unfortunately, it seems the Met Office doesn't answer their visitor posts. And, judging from some of the comments on their posts, many of their visitors don't read the older posts or really understand the forecasts either, so there's lots of whinging comments about naming storms and the inaccuracy of forecasts.
I'm seeing far more birds now than earlier in the year, including a Robin who regularly comes to the garden, Blue Tits searching out spiders from the window frames and many more Starlings. The Swallows slipped away gradually at the end of the summer, and although I've seen flocks of winter thrushes flying over, none seem to settle on the horse fields behind the house. Back in September, there were often early morning skeins of geese flying over and I saw a Kestrel out looking for lunch one day when I was emptying the compost caddy into the main bins.
In the last week of November, I started to see Lapwings over and on the horse fields, with numbers building daily from 16, then 30, then 45, then 75. The flock flew back,
forth and around, spilling a few members at a time until all were on the
ground. They were happy enough on the ground with a few rugged-up ponies, Starlings, Rooks, Jackdaws and a mix of Herring and Black-Headed Gulls, but the
occasional loud bangs from the other side of Langford Farm, where the new
school is being built, was enough to send them all into the sky again,
presumably in search of somewhere more peaceful. I reported this sighting to the Pembrokeshire Birds blog, which contains all sorts of sightings. Pembrokeshire is outstanding for birding, with passage migrants, accidentals and a huge variety of resident birds. If you want to do a spot of birdwatching and want to know where to look and what to look for, it's worth checking out the blog!
Over the following couple of days, the numbers of Lapwings reduced and I haven't seen any now since probably the beginning of December. On one of the last sightings, there was a glimmer of sun between showers which really set off the iridescence of the feathers as 30 or so Lapwings sheltered on a muddy strip of the field, poached by the horses' hooves as they wandered up and down a line of electric tape fencing. Everything was peaceful until some Herring Gulls started to get stroppy with a Buzzard, who had evidently wandered into their personal space. There has often been a rather wet and sorry-looking Buzzard pacing around the fields, presumably taking advantage of worms, slugs and other invertebrates in the grass. On one occasion there were two Buzzards, presumably a pair since they wandered around happily only a few metres apart from each other. Anyway, the Lapwings were fine with the Buzzard, but the Herring Gulls saw it off.
The colder weather has revealed what an unevenly-heated house this is. Downstairs is quite draughty, especially the extension, where the wind sounds like a kazoo as it forces its way in past the seals on the side door and through the outlet hole for a tumble drier. The big windows, so great for solar gain, are pretty cold when there's no sun. Suddenly, insulating tape, curtain poles and lined curtains have appeared on my priority list. And in order to put the curtain poles up, (once I decide what I want and can afford it!), I needed a combi-drill. When I was thinking about curtains, I suddenly realised that this is the first time I'm in a place where I can please myself about decor. No landlord, parents or partner to allow or object and the only compromises are related to the structure of the house and what I can afford (currently, not a lot!). The second realisation was that I no longer have any idea what I like or want by way of decor!
Cleaning, unpacking and sorting is still ongoing. It's a good job I have a lot of dusters and I get some daily satisfaction from tossing used ones into their wash-bin. I thought I would have finished within six months, but it is something of a constant problem-solving exercise and there's only so much I have the time and energy (and money!) for every day. For example, the co-ax cable from the TV aerial was too short to reach the TV. I was sure I had an extension cable, so unpacked more boxes until I found it. Then found the connector on one end was wrong and I didn't have an adapter, so went to buy an adapter, but couldn't find just the adapter, so had to buy another extension. I still haven't found the cause of the problem with my turntable, although I solved the problem with the speaker connections. And I think I may have a solution for using the old video player for playback, but need a type of lead which I definitely don't have anywhere and haven't been able to find in town. Similarly, I also need a wireless dongle for the TV, now that I can't easily run cable from the router to the TV.
One of the next jobs is to find the Christmas decorations, which have gone unused for at least six years, and make the place feel more festive. My place is looking a bit drab compared to the neighbours'. I've had two 'Christmas' dos already - a meal at a local pub with the local over-50s exercise class, and the Ceredigion belly dance classes' party which is always great fun. I was thinking of having a Yule party, but a friend has invited me to hers instead.
A late lunch, one of the cats and the To Do list are all calling me ....
Saturday, 28 November 2015
Not Meant To Be
I'm something of a believer in whether things are meant to be, or not. Whether you attribute it to the mysterious movings of the universe, serendipity, coincidence, fate, karma, predestiny, messages from God or the angels, there are times when you get the feeling that things are conspiring against a course of action. Then you have a choice; fight on and try to make it happen, or accept that some things are not meant to be. Of course, you may not believe in this and consider it a defeatist attitude, that you can make anything happen and do anything if you want it badly enough. I agree that some things are worth giving your all, but some are not. Pick your battles!
Last week I planned to treat myself to a somatics workshop. It's so long since I went up to Penpynfarch and I live even further away now, but the application of what I've learned in previous workshops has shown some subtle but positive results, both in dance and in managing the osteoarthritis.
Knowing I would hit the local rush hour, I gave myself an extra half an hour on the journey time suggested by the AA. The weather forecast was not good; Barney, the second of the Met Office/Met Eireann named storms was due. It would make for a horrible journey home, with a yellow warning for high winds starting from mid afternoon, but I reckoned if I stuck to main roads once out of Llandysul, it would be okay.
I set off on time and had only gone a couple of miles when I joined a queue of traffic into Haverfordwest. It took me all of my spare half hour to get past the town (normally a ten minute drive!), with red lights all the way. It was pouring with rain, blustery wind dumping bucketfuls onto the windscreens and roads. Drivers sensibly slowed down, but I got to a point on a road without a good place to overtake where I was behind a laden cattle truck grinding away at 20 miles an hour. Each time we came to a junction, I was muttering 'please turn off', but no, it looked like it was going my way. I could see a tailback in my rear view mirror, and I bet those drivers were muttering something too.
By the time I had been driving for over an hour and a half, I had made 25 miles - half way - and had a splitting headache. I stopped at a garage for a toilet break and a drink of water. If I carried on in this worsening weather, I would get there in time for lunch, but feel compelled to set off early to avoid the worst of the weather. And I would hardly be able to move after driving for so long. Feeling like a complete and utter wimp, I decided to turn around and go back. Back up over the Preselis, through a pea-soup of low cloud and lashing rain. The cattle grid at Bwlch Gwynt was underwater, and the rain ran in rivulets down the roads to pool in the dips.
It took me nearly an hour and a half to get back home, too; a round trip of 50 plus miles in 3 hours. Knees stiff from driving, I dragged myself upstairs to email an apology, then into the kitchen to make a vegetable and bean stew, one of my ideal winter comfort foods.
I was waiting for a call to let me know the results of a job interview the previous day, but didn't get the call until a week later. It was a 'no', but at least they called with feedback, reinforcing my feeling that they would have been a good company to work for. Another thing that wasn't meant to be.
As I was writing this, I checked my email for a reply to another application, which seemed to be taking a long time. Sure enough, I had an email at last ... and it was a 'no'. It left me wondering what it takes, since I was sure I'd effectively ticked every skill and attribute in the job and personnel description. I can only hope that the two friends I know who were after the same job at least get an interview.
I've been pouring energy into trying to find employment, searching job sites, updating CVs, sending applications, reading around companies and skills in preparation for interviews which hardly ever happen. At a time when class numbers and commitment are low, and nobody seems to have money for anything which they consider non-essential (including proofreading!) I had hoped that employment would give me some money and security. Perhaps that's not meant to be.
Time to look again at my Plan B, and see what it would take to make it (or something like it) work. It will probably be a case of fighting to make it happen, but I would like to think that this time next year, things will be different.
Last week I planned to treat myself to a somatics workshop. It's so long since I went up to Penpynfarch and I live even further away now, but the application of what I've learned in previous workshops has shown some subtle but positive results, both in dance and in managing the osteoarthritis.
Knowing I would hit the local rush hour, I gave myself an extra half an hour on the journey time suggested by the AA. The weather forecast was not good; Barney, the second of the Met Office/Met Eireann named storms was due. It would make for a horrible journey home, with a yellow warning for high winds starting from mid afternoon, but I reckoned if I stuck to main roads once out of Llandysul, it would be okay.
I set off on time and had only gone a couple of miles when I joined a queue of traffic into Haverfordwest. It took me all of my spare half hour to get past the town (normally a ten minute drive!), with red lights all the way. It was pouring with rain, blustery wind dumping bucketfuls onto the windscreens and roads. Drivers sensibly slowed down, but I got to a point on a road without a good place to overtake where I was behind a laden cattle truck grinding away at 20 miles an hour. Each time we came to a junction, I was muttering 'please turn off', but no, it looked like it was going my way. I could see a tailback in my rear view mirror, and I bet those drivers were muttering something too.
By the time I had been driving for over an hour and a half, I had made 25 miles - half way - and had a splitting headache. I stopped at a garage for a toilet break and a drink of water. If I carried on in this worsening weather, I would get there in time for lunch, but feel compelled to set off early to avoid the worst of the weather. And I would hardly be able to move after driving for so long. Feeling like a complete and utter wimp, I decided to turn around and go back. Back up over the Preselis, through a pea-soup of low cloud and lashing rain. The cattle grid at Bwlch Gwynt was underwater, and the rain ran in rivulets down the roads to pool in the dips.
It took me nearly an hour and a half to get back home, too; a round trip of 50 plus miles in 3 hours. Knees stiff from driving, I dragged myself upstairs to email an apology, then into the kitchen to make a vegetable and bean stew, one of my ideal winter comfort foods.
I was waiting for a call to let me know the results of a job interview the previous day, but didn't get the call until a week later. It was a 'no', but at least they called with feedback, reinforcing my feeling that they would have been a good company to work for. Another thing that wasn't meant to be.
As I was writing this, I checked my email for a reply to another application, which seemed to be taking a long time. Sure enough, I had an email at last ... and it was a 'no'. It left me wondering what it takes, since I was sure I'd effectively ticked every skill and attribute in the job and personnel description. I can only hope that the two friends I know who were after the same job at least get an interview.
I've been pouring energy into trying to find employment, searching job sites, updating CVs, sending applications, reading around companies and skills in preparation for interviews which hardly ever happen. At a time when class numbers and commitment are low, and nobody seems to have money for anything which they consider non-essential (including proofreading!) I had hoped that employment would give me some money and security. Perhaps that's not meant to be.
Time to look again at my Plan B, and see what it would take to make it (or something like it) work. It will probably be a case of fighting to make it happen, but I would like to think that this time next year, things will be different.
Friday, 13 November 2015
Dancing Mindfully
Mindfulness is a bit of a buzz word at the moment, perhaps because it
seems more necessary in our daily lives than ever. Or perhaps it's an
idea whose time has come. It involves the deliberately focusing your attention on what's happening in and around you in the present moment, noticing and acknowledging thoughts, feelings and sensations without judgement.
It's been something I've been aware of since I was young, even though I didn't know it was called mindfulness, and didn't practise it regularly. I remember a lesson in primary school when I was six, perhaps seven. We sat quietly with our eyes closed and trying not to fidget, focusing our attention on the sounds of others in the room breathing, the class next door, birds outside, traffic, the warmth of the sun coming through the window, the feel of the wooden seat on bare legs. From time to time since then, I've been reminded how useful mindfulness is and each time, I wonder how I could have forgotten. Mindfulness practice is so called because it needs practice. It's so easy to go through life on auto-pilot, bouncing from one task to the next, planning and looking forward, or thinking about what you could, should, ought to have done or be doing.
Looking back on my year of yoga lessons (with Rose Thorn, Inner Yoga Trust and I thoroughly recommend her as a teacher), I realised it was something quite amazing. I haven't managed to clear a space yet to start my own daily yoga (and dance) practice, haven't found (and anyway, can't afford) another class and I'm missing it. It sorted out a worsening sacroiliac problem; I discovered that I had been unconsciously bracing myself by contracting my glutes and the resulting tension was enough to trigger some inflammation. I had probably started it as a balance strategy. Consciously relaxing and 'softening' the muscles as I was standing still was difficult at first, but seems to have paid off. I used to float out of class feeling great and wake up the following morning feeling as though I had been hit by a bus, so there was obviously a lot of work going on deep in the body. The significant and unexpected bonus was how much it helped me mentally, in terms of my ability to focus my attention inwards on my body, its movement, stillness, relaxation, feelings and breath. After years of twitching restlessly or just falling asleep when I tried to be still and meditate, I re-found my ability to do it and I love it.
The somatics workshops and yoga classes were part of my ongoing portfolio of ways to mitigate and counteract the effects of severe osteoarthritis in my knees and feet, relearning and changing the way I use my body. The new awareness of tension and alignment is allowing me to release tightness, especially in the knees, before the pain builds too much. The combination of range of movement exercises, knee supports, heat, massage, awareness and adjustment of alignment and plenty of rest mean that it's now several months since I needed to take any painkillers.
As a result, I can do more, and dance more, providing I remain mindful of the way I use my body. A carelessly aligned foot and leg during a turn could be enough to cause pain and loss of balance. I had thought I was quite good at listening to my body, but learning to sit down before I need to showed me how much I ignored messages from my body, and that's very much a dancer's thing. In dance training, you learn the technique for the steps or moves and learn to ignore the minor (and sometimes major) aches and pains involved in doing them, the tired and burning feet and muscles. Even as you block some sensations, you are practising some sort of mindfulness as you dance in the moment, in the music, but rely on muscle memory for the movements and choreography, and a sort of subliminal awareness of the space that you dance in and the other dancers around you. Is automaticity the opposite of mindfulness? It seems to me that dancing mindfully requires more practice than everyday mindfulness, as dance involves so many senses, it's impossible to give your full attention to all aspects of dance at the same time.
If you focus your attention on the movements themselves, your face can show that concentration. Breaking the movement down and then putting it back together is an essential part of learning it, but over-thinking can induce analysis-paralysis and tension in the body. Anyone who has learned to dance is familiar with this. Dance looks easy, good dance looks effortless (even if the dancer comes off stage pouring with sweat!). You know you can boogie around to your favourite tunes and you thought you were a pretty good dancer. So you start to dance in a given style and you find it's very difficult. You fight for the shape and the movement and become tense. The tension stops full movement and affects posture, which makes everything harder. You try harder to get it right and instead it goes even more wrong. You get frustrated and cross with yourself. Your mind starts to whirl with thoughts of how to get it right and make your body do what you want it to. You end up losing patience with yourself and with learning to dance. (I have a theory this is why many people like to dance but don't want to learn to dance, preferring dance exercise classes in which they can hide at the back and move any old how, without having to remember a routine or strive for correct movement technique. Following the leader, the movement goes in through the eyes and out through the body but bypasses the brain, a bit like copy-typing.) This is where mindfulness helps; another aspect of mindfulness is recollection, remembering to be aware of something. Remember to relax, stop over-thinking and allow the movement to flow.
Noticing without judgement is a difficult thing. When you are practising and are fully aware of how your body is moving, it's easy to be distracted when you do something wrong. Although you are actually making a judgement that your dancing or movement isn't as good as it should be, the ability to look more objectively at it in order to make improvements is positive and constructive, without wallowing in self-criticism. Part of mindfulness practice is to acknowledge the thought and move on. This is important for rehearsal, as you wouldn't stop and acknowledge a wrong move while performing.
Accepting that it might be impossible to be mindful of every aspect of dance while you're dancing, a good way to incorporate mindfulness in dance practice might be to focus on different aspects for different drills, dance pieces or practice sessions. For example, you might create or learn a movement phrase and repeat it several times, on each repeat shifting the focus:
It's been something I've been aware of since I was young, even though I didn't know it was called mindfulness, and didn't practise it regularly. I remember a lesson in primary school when I was six, perhaps seven. We sat quietly with our eyes closed and trying not to fidget, focusing our attention on the sounds of others in the room breathing, the class next door, birds outside, traffic, the warmth of the sun coming through the window, the feel of the wooden seat on bare legs. From time to time since then, I've been reminded how useful mindfulness is and each time, I wonder how I could have forgotten. Mindfulness practice is so called because it needs practice. It's so easy to go through life on auto-pilot, bouncing from one task to the next, planning and looking forward, or thinking about what you could, should, ought to have done or be doing.
Looking back on my year of yoga lessons (with Rose Thorn, Inner Yoga Trust and I thoroughly recommend her as a teacher), I realised it was something quite amazing. I haven't managed to clear a space yet to start my own daily yoga (and dance) practice, haven't found (and anyway, can't afford) another class and I'm missing it. It sorted out a worsening sacroiliac problem; I discovered that I had been unconsciously bracing myself by contracting my glutes and the resulting tension was enough to trigger some inflammation. I had probably started it as a balance strategy. Consciously relaxing and 'softening' the muscles as I was standing still was difficult at first, but seems to have paid off. I used to float out of class feeling great and wake up the following morning feeling as though I had been hit by a bus, so there was obviously a lot of work going on deep in the body. The significant and unexpected bonus was how much it helped me mentally, in terms of my ability to focus my attention inwards on my body, its movement, stillness, relaxation, feelings and breath. After years of twitching restlessly or just falling asleep when I tried to be still and meditate, I re-found my ability to do it and I love it.
The somatics workshops and yoga classes were part of my ongoing portfolio of ways to mitigate and counteract the effects of severe osteoarthritis in my knees and feet, relearning and changing the way I use my body. The new awareness of tension and alignment is allowing me to release tightness, especially in the knees, before the pain builds too much. The combination of range of movement exercises, knee supports, heat, massage, awareness and adjustment of alignment and plenty of rest mean that it's now several months since I needed to take any painkillers.
As a result, I can do more, and dance more, providing I remain mindful of the way I use my body. A carelessly aligned foot and leg during a turn could be enough to cause pain and loss of balance. I had thought I was quite good at listening to my body, but learning to sit down before I need to showed me how much I ignored messages from my body, and that's very much a dancer's thing. In dance training, you learn the technique for the steps or moves and learn to ignore the minor (and sometimes major) aches and pains involved in doing them, the tired and burning feet and muscles. Even as you block some sensations, you are practising some sort of mindfulness as you dance in the moment, in the music, but rely on muscle memory for the movements and choreography, and a sort of subliminal awareness of the space that you dance in and the other dancers around you. Is automaticity the opposite of mindfulness? It seems to me that dancing mindfully requires more practice than everyday mindfulness, as dance involves so many senses, it's impossible to give your full attention to all aspects of dance at the same time.
If you focus your attention on the movements themselves, your face can show that concentration. Breaking the movement down and then putting it back together is an essential part of learning it, but over-thinking can induce analysis-paralysis and tension in the body. Anyone who has learned to dance is familiar with this. Dance looks easy, good dance looks effortless (even if the dancer comes off stage pouring with sweat!). You know you can boogie around to your favourite tunes and you thought you were a pretty good dancer. So you start to dance in a given style and you find it's very difficult. You fight for the shape and the movement and become tense. The tension stops full movement and affects posture, which makes everything harder. You try harder to get it right and instead it goes even more wrong. You get frustrated and cross with yourself. Your mind starts to whirl with thoughts of how to get it right and make your body do what you want it to. You end up losing patience with yourself and with learning to dance. (I have a theory this is why many people like to dance but don't want to learn to dance, preferring dance exercise classes in which they can hide at the back and move any old how, without having to remember a routine or strive for correct movement technique. Following the leader, the movement goes in through the eyes and out through the body but bypasses the brain, a bit like copy-typing.) This is where mindfulness helps; another aspect of mindfulness is recollection, remembering to be aware of something. Remember to relax, stop over-thinking and allow the movement to flow.
Noticing without judgement is a difficult thing. When you are practising and are fully aware of how your body is moving, it's easy to be distracted when you do something wrong. Although you are actually making a judgement that your dancing or movement isn't as good as it should be, the ability to look more objectively at it in order to make improvements is positive and constructive, without wallowing in self-criticism. Part of mindfulness practice is to acknowledge the thought and move on. This is important for rehearsal, as you wouldn't stop and acknowledge a wrong move while performing.
Accepting that it might be impossible to be mindful of every aspect of dance while you're dancing, a good way to incorporate mindfulness in dance practice might be to focus on different aspects for different drills, dance pieces or practice sessions. For example, you might create or learn a movement phrase and repeat it several times, on each repeat shifting the focus:
- The movements themselves; the technical aspects and how they feel in the body
- The transitions between moves and shifts of weight
- Movement difficulties, finding ways to move more easily and reduce the effort required
- The movement dynamics - are they soft, sharp, floating, heavy, percussive, flowing ...?
- The expression brought by the dynamics and the music
- Your breathing. Are you forgetting to breathe, could you use it to assist movements (for example, breathing out on an accent such as a hip drop)?
- The space in which you move, the direction of your body in relation to that space and the movement pathways. (For further information on spatial relationships, see my blog post here.)
- Listen deeply to the music, its beat and rhythms, all its nuances, the different instruments, how the key/maqam/dromos makes you feel, and the jingle of your hip belt.
- Wear scent, spray a little on your veil or scent the room with a candle or incense stick.
- Feel the costume fabrics, their textures, colours, the glint and sparkle of beads and coins.
- Notice the way your clothing moves. If you're wearing a skirt, hold or brush it outwards so that it catches the air as you move.
- Feel the way the air flows over your bare arms as you move them.
- Look at the way your body is moving (if you have a mirror), or follow the movement of a hand, the colour, drape and float of a veil.
- Take a break, drink some water, feeling the moist coolness in your mouth.
Thursday, 12 November 2015
Keep Dancing!
I watched the first season of Strictly Come Dancing, loved the dancing but hated the way the results were given so much that I only dipped in and out of subsequent series' Saturday night shows. For some reason, I started watching the latest series and am completely hooked!
Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman, what a team! They are so sympathetic and the presentation is slick, even some of the terrible puns and one-liners crack me up. Don't get me wrong; Sir Bruce Forsyth is great, but I love that the presenters are all women. I also thoroughly enjoy Strictly - It Takes Two with Zoe Ball on week nights, with the insights into costume design and dance technique, as well as all the behind-the-scenes shots of dance training and interviews with the dancers. Saturday's show consistently refers to the Sunday night show as 'tomorrow', but of course it's filmed later on the Saturday, after the voting closes. It has to be, so that the dancers can stay dressed and made up. So the group dance and the dancing which accompanies the guest singer must happen and be filmed out of sequence, to allow the professional dancers to change. I note the presenters and certainly Darcey Bussell out of the judges change their outfits for the 'results' show. I caught myself wondering whether any of the presenters, or Darcey Bussell, wear the same outfit twice throughout the series. And if they don't, how many dresses is that each? How many wardrobes ...?
The viewer voting still brings the element of a popularity contest, which is a shame. However, it does reflect a sort of popular vote on the entertainment value of each piece. It must also bring in some revenue for what must be a terrifically expensive show, with a heavy cast of dancers, live orchestra, singers, camera/sound/light/production crew, wardrobe, hair, make up, judges, guest performers, costumes, rehearsal space, studio overheads, and so on ad infinitum. Possibly the expense is the reason why it's an elimination contest, but it would be so lovely to see all the couples dance all the dances, see the improvement in the celebrities as dancers, and see weekly and cumulative leader boards of the judges' scores and the viewers' votes. The tension-pause before each couple's names are announced as 'safe' has lengthened from a ten count to twelve or more. Why would you do that? All of the dancers have mentioned what torture it is, and it's long enough for any suspense to evaporate into sheer annoyance. It's what turned me off Strictly in the first place. Count to eight if you must, but just get on with it!
We are at the half-way point of the series now, and it's started to get silly, with a couple who have been dancing brilliantly suddenly in the dance-off against the couple who sadly were at the bottom of the leader board. The look on everyone's faces when they knew the inevitable result even before they danced, and then after dancing before the judges' verdicts, had me in floods of tears, softy that I am. How the dancers held it together must be down to their sheer professionalism.
The viewer vote aside, it's really not about the celebrities being celebrities, but their weekly struggles to learn each new dance with the different techniques and styling. Or perhaps it's that the celebrity-dancers are all genuinely interested in learning to dance and are working really hard. I did a little ballroom dance in the past, but it was strictly social. Very basic steps, no mention of the finer points of footwork, hold positions and top line. I'm learning a lot from the judges' comments, which are generally fair and to the point. My internal critical voice now sounds like Craig Revel Horwood, which is an improvement. Yes, really! It's brought a new objectivity, making it easier for me to watch video of my dancing without beating myself up and feeling bad. It's like having a teacher I like and respect telling me what needs to be improved. ('Well, I'm sorry to say, darling, that there was so much wrong I don't know where to start. Hands, shape, definition, technique, and increase your choreographic content. The intensity was there, but you have to stop yourself getting too carried away and losing focus. And stop singing along.') So I can work on getting my internal critic to say 'Fab-u-lous, darling! A-ma-zing!'
Watching the show has brought up something which has long puzzled me: why are some people better dancers than others? There are plenty of scientific theories about 'beat deafness', insufficient GABA, and undeveloped neural pathways. The first two to be eliminated in this series were both sportsmen. They were slim, fit, strong, should have a decent amount of coordination and body rhythm from their training and reasonable proprioception and control. Sportsmen should be fine with making their body do what they want it to, to follow instructions. It's clearly not enough to be slim, fit, young, strong, have great stamina or have the best one-to-one teacher and training time in real studio space with mirrors. The continual improvement of all dancers, however, shows just how important practice is. So what goes on? Setting aside conditions which affect proprioception, such as hypermobility and dyspraxia, and physical or motor problems, why should some people find dancing harder than others?
I've noticed that sometimes, women who are otherwise very fit and toned have a lot of trouble with belly dance, particularly finding it difficult to access soft, smooth movement in certain planes, especially using the core muscles. Having been an avid gym and aerobics bunny myself once (I know, hard to believe), I wonder if the two-beat, contract-release, on-off movement style becomes the muscle memory default. This is usually accompanied by a degree of tension, which stops full, fluid movement. Tension can be made worse by self-consciousness and self-criticism, over-thinking and trying too hard, until your mind is whirling and your brain has no processing power left to direct your body to dance.
Dance generally includes a wide range of dynamics; slow and fast, sudden and sustained, jerky and fluid. It also needs connection with the music, not just the beat, but an embodiment of rhythm. There are lots of other little details which need attention too, but they can be learned and improved with practice.
I'm giving a workshop in Cardigan this Sunday afternoon on graceful movement, to explore the dance elements which make the difference between gawky and gorgeous. So if you feel you lack grace, come to the workshop! You know you want to! And in the meantime ... Keep Dancing!
Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman, what a team! They are so sympathetic and the presentation is slick, even some of the terrible puns and one-liners crack me up. Don't get me wrong; Sir Bruce Forsyth is great, but I love that the presenters are all women. I also thoroughly enjoy Strictly - It Takes Two with Zoe Ball on week nights, with the insights into costume design and dance technique, as well as all the behind-the-scenes shots of dance training and interviews with the dancers. Saturday's show consistently refers to the Sunday night show as 'tomorrow', but of course it's filmed later on the Saturday, after the voting closes. It has to be, so that the dancers can stay dressed and made up. So the group dance and the dancing which accompanies the guest singer must happen and be filmed out of sequence, to allow the professional dancers to change. I note the presenters and certainly Darcey Bussell out of the judges change their outfits for the 'results' show. I caught myself wondering whether any of the presenters, or Darcey Bussell, wear the same outfit twice throughout the series. And if they don't, how many dresses is that each? How many wardrobes ...?
The viewer voting still brings the element of a popularity contest, which is a shame. However, it does reflect a sort of popular vote on the entertainment value of each piece. It must also bring in some revenue for what must be a terrifically expensive show, with a heavy cast of dancers, live orchestra, singers, camera/sound/light/production crew, wardrobe, hair, make up, judges, guest performers, costumes, rehearsal space, studio overheads, and so on ad infinitum. Possibly the expense is the reason why it's an elimination contest, but it would be so lovely to see all the couples dance all the dances, see the improvement in the celebrities as dancers, and see weekly and cumulative leader boards of the judges' scores and the viewers' votes. The tension-pause before each couple's names are announced as 'safe' has lengthened from a ten count to twelve or more. Why would you do that? All of the dancers have mentioned what torture it is, and it's long enough for any suspense to evaporate into sheer annoyance. It's what turned me off Strictly in the first place. Count to eight if you must, but just get on with it!
We are at the half-way point of the series now, and it's started to get silly, with a couple who have been dancing brilliantly suddenly in the dance-off against the couple who sadly were at the bottom of the leader board. The look on everyone's faces when they knew the inevitable result even before they danced, and then after dancing before the judges' verdicts, had me in floods of tears, softy that I am. How the dancers held it together must be down to their sheer professionalism.
The viewer vote aside, it's really not about the celebrities being celebrities, but their weekly struggles to learn each new dance with the different techniques and styling. Or perhaps it's that the celebrity-dancers are all genuinely interested in learning to dance and are working really hard. I did a little ballroom dance in the past, but it was strictly social. Very basic steps, no mention of the finer points of footwork, hold positions and top line. I'm learning a lot from the judges' comments, which are generally fair and to the point. My internal critical voice now sounds like Craig Revel Horwood, which is an improvement. Yes, really! It's brought a new objectivity, making it easier for me to watch video of my dancing without beating myself up and feeling bad. It's like having a teacher I like and respect telling me what needs to be improved. ('Well, I'm sorry to say, darling, that there was so much wrong I don't know where to start. Hands, shape, definition, technique, and increase your choreographic content. The intensity was there, but you have to stop yourself getting too carried away and losing focus. And stop singing along.') So I can work on getting my internal critic to say 'Fab-u-lous, darling! A-ma-zing!'
Watching the show has brought up something which has long puzzled me: why are some people better dancers than others? There are plenty of scientific theories about 'beat deafness', insufficient GABA, and undeveloped neural pathways. The first two to be eliminated in this series were both sportsmen. They were slim, fit, strong, should have a decent amount of coordination and body rhythm from their training and reasonable proprioception and control. Sportsmen should be fine with making their body do what they want it to, to follow instructions. It's clearly not enough to be slim, fit, young, strong, have great stamina or have the best one-to-one teacher and training time in real studio space with mirrors. The continual improvement of all dancers, however, shows just how important practice is. So what goes on? Setting aside conditions which affect proprioception, such as hypermobility and dyspraxia, and physical or motor problems, why should some people find dancing harder than others?
I've noticed that sometimes, women who are otherwise very fit and toned have a lot of trouble with belly dance, particularly finding it difficult to access soft, smooth movement in certain planes, especially using the core muscles. Having been an avid gym and aerobics bunny myself once (I know, hard to believe), I wonder if the two-beat, contract-release, on-off movement style becomes the muscle memory default. This is usually accompanied by a degree of tension, which stops full, fluid movement. Tension can be made worse by self-consciousness and self-criticism, over-thinking and trying too hard, until your mind is whirling and your brain has no processing power left to direct your body to dance.
Dance generally includes a wide range of dynamics; slow and fast, sudden and sustained, jerky and fluid. It also needs connection with the music, not just the beat, but an embodiment of rhythm. There are lots of other little details which need attention too, but they can be learned and improved with practice.
I'm giving a workshop in Cardigan this Sunday afternoon on graceful movement, to explore the dance elements which make the difference between gawky and gorgeous. So if you feel you lack grace, come to the workshop! You know you want to! And in the meantime ... Keep Dancing!
Tuesday, 20 October 2015
Just One More Piece
My closest beaches are on the Daugleddau Estuary. They're not ones you would really want to swim from, are not very scenic unless you like oil refineries, LPG terminals, jetties and so on, don't have much by way of interesting shells and shore life, and have pebbles and mud rather than sand. All the same, they are fairly clean, with very little rubbish mixed in with the heaps of seaweed. There are tugs and pilot boats going to and fro, yachts, a Ferry to Ireland, people out rowing Celtic longboats (generally not when the Ferry is due!), and a selection of birds to watch. Despite their rather muddy and industrial nature, these beaches are becoming my first choice when I want a short walk with a sea breeze.
Returning from a trip to the bank, I was seized by the urge to do a little beach combing for my usual 'shopping list' of water-worn glass and ceramic, interesting stones, driftwood and shells. I turned off my usual route home and was soon at one of the estuary beaches. There were a pair of swans and a small group of gulls, but otherwise I had the small beach to myself on an outgoing tide.
There was quite a lot of glass mixed in with the pebbles, but nine out of ten pieces were still too sharp and I soon became fed up of tossing handfuls of glass shards back into the outflow stream which had carved a stony gash down the beach. The last time I had visited this beach, I was struck by the number of rusty nails and they were still there. Definitely not a beach to walk on with bare feet, and I felt sorry for any dogs who came for a quick run.
I crossed the outflow stream and went to explore an area which had always been underwater when I'd visited before. The small rock pools had a few of the usual suspects - limpets, winkles, beadlet anenomes - but nothing much. I was still seeing a lot of sharp glass. I walked around another rock and found another little shoal of pebbles, this time with worn glass lying around, as if it had all been swept into one place by the tides. Keeping half an eye on the water, I picked up a several handfuls of glass, along with a couple of bits of clay pipe stem and a few bits of ceramic, plates and old stoneware jam or marmalade jars. I kept my eyes open for the pipe bowls too, but each time I thought I had found one, it turned out to be the curve of a worn and broken slipper limpet or cockle shell. Some of the glass had so much greeny-yellow algae covering it, that it looked green, but will probably be clear glass once it's clean. Some was the thick, blackish glass of old liquor bottles. The sailors, fishermen, shipwrights and other labourers who once worked along the waterway would have tossed their spent pipes and empty bottles into the water for the waves to deliver back, decades, or perhaps even centuries, later.
The calls of oystercatchers and a subtle change in the sound of the waves alerted me that the tide had changed. The water was indeed running the other way. I still had plenty of time before it would be high enough to cut me off, but the light was going. I headed back around the rocks and up the beach, taking a different route in the hope I might find something else interesting, but the tantalising glimmers were only slipper limpet shells and bits of wet slate in amongst the reddish stones.
With my bag of finds swinging heavily from my fingers, I was reluctant to leave the beach, wanting to find another piece. And another ... just one more piece.
Returning from a trip to the bank, I was seized by the urge to do a little beach combing for my usual 'shopping list' of water-worn glass and ceramic, interesting stones, driftwood and shells. I turned off my usual route home and was soon at one of the estuary beaches. There were a pair of swans and a small group of gulls, but otherwise I had the small beach to myself on an outgoing tide.
There was quite a lot of glass mixed in with the pebbles, but nine out of ten pieces were still too sharp and I soon became fed up of tossing handfuls of glass shards back into the outflow stream which had carved a stony gash down the beach. The last time I had visited this beach, I was struck by the number of rusty nails and they were still there. Definitely not a beach to walk on with bare feet, and I felt sorry for any dogs who came for a quick run.
I crossed the outflow stream and went to explore an area which had always been underwater when I'd visited before. The small rock pools had a few of the usual suspects - limpets, winkles, beadlet anenomes - but nothing much. I was still seeing a lot of sharp glass. I walked around another rock and found another little shoal of pebbles, this time with worn glass lying around, as if it had all been swept into one place by the tides. Keeping half an eye on the water, I picked up a several handfuls of glass, along with a couple of bits of clay pipe stem and a few bits of ceramic, plates and old stoneware jam or marmalade jars. I kept my eyes open for the pipe bowls too, but each time I thought I had found one, it turned out to be the curve of a worn and broken slipper limpet or cockle shell. Some of the glass had so much greeny-yellow algae covering it, that it looked green, but will probably be clear glass once it's clean. Some was the thick, blackish glass of old liquor bottles. The sailors, fishermen, shipwrights and other labourers who once worked along the waterway would have tossed their spent pipes and empty bottles into the water for the waves to deliver back, decades, or perhaps even centuries, later.
The calls of oystercatchers and a subtle change in the sound of the waves alerted me that the tide had changed. The water was indeed running the other way. I still had plenty of time before it would be high enough to cut me off, but the light was going. I headed back around the rocks and up the beach, taking a different route in the hope I might find something else interesting, but the tantalising glimmers were only slipper limpet shells and bits of wet slate in amongst the reddish stones.
With my bag of finds swinging heavily from my fingers, I was reluctant to leave the beach, wanting to find another piece. And another ... just one more piece.
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