Lift the spirit

Hello again,

These are uncertain times that none of us has experienced before. Recessional gloom, the economy seemingly in meltdown, the footsie crashing, the pound plummeting and unemployment rising at an alarming rate. We are all fed a daily diet of this information by the self-satisfied "I'm still going to get my pay cheque no matter how bad the economy is" BBC news department. They revel in the misery, amplifying it to create bigger and bigger headlines and thereby creating a self-fullfilling prophesy.

I am not denying that things are bad; I run two small businesses, a garden irrigation & lighting contracting business and a wholesale business and trading conditions for both have never been tougher. Money in the economy is scarce, protecting jobs is getting harder, winning work is more testing and getting payment more challenging. With all this gloom though, whether it is real or magnified by the press, it is hard not to be dragged down and to only see the negatives in life.

This is where public art has an important part to play in life. Art lifts the spirit, it takes you away from the "now", it refreshes the soul and lightens the mood. It won't take the problems away but it might just divert your attention for long enough to believe that this recession will actually end at some point, things will eventually improve and the BBC will eventually find something else to gloat about.

See the photo? This beautiful sculpture called Horse and Rider is by Dame Elizabeth Frink (1930-1993) and stands majestically at the corner of Dover Street and Picadilly, outside a coffee chain. Happening upon such a sculpture unexpectedly is a joy and is a credit to whomever commissioned it. Public art doesn't usually get much attention, except for the spare plinth in Trafalgar Square, but it does contribute to and enrich our lives. Like good architecture, public art affects us coniously and subconciously and taking a moment to admire a work can help us through these trying times.

Sadly though, as a footnote, when ordering my coffee I remarked to the member of staff about how lucky they were to be able to see the sculpture every day. The "Trainee Barista" stunned me with his mumbled reply "what sculpture?" before shoving my overpriced, weak Americano in a paper cup at me . I was lost for words and that doesn't happen very often.

Until later

A Badger's Tale (Tail)

Hello again.

Long time, no blog... My New Years res is to blog more consistently.

For some time now I have been keen on the idea of adorning the interior of my house with a stuffed Badger. I had the idea that I would like to cut one in half (cross ways), mount it's front end on one side of a wall and it's back end on the other. To make it a bit more surreal, I intended to attach said Badger about 2m above ground level.

I thought this was a great idea, sadly my wife (and daughters) weren't in agreement. I was surprised by the strong resistance I met when I mooted the idea and even though I badgered (sorry for the pun) her for some time, she did not bend. To her, it was a black and white issue - no dead animals in the house, full stop.

Anyway, over a couple of months, I kept my eyes open for a suitable bit of taxidermy. I had a hope that presenting my wife with a "cute" stuffed Badger would soften her resistance to the idea. However, I didn't find anything and the idea began to drift to the back of my mind.

However, two weeks before Christmas, a large box was delivered to my office from one of our suppliers in Birmingham. We get quite a lot of deliveries of garden irrigation and garden lighting product and the box raised no eyebrows until I opened it. Inside was a stuffed Badger, an old, dusty Badger mounted on a board. Clearly the old fellow had seen better days, his ear has been chewed, his underside is bald and he has a very "interesting" aroma. However, none of this mattered to me, it was a Badger and it gave me the opportunity to carry out my plan.

I took Brian, as he has been named, home that evening in my car. However, before I left I thought I might give him a bit of a spruce up and and tried vacuuming his fur. Sadly the vacuum sucked the fur out of one of Brian's back legs leaving it looking like a plucked turkey, so I stopped and decided to take him as he was.

Upon entering the house, I was met by my daughters; Dolly (5) burst into tears, Daisy (7) screeched "yeuucggkk". At that point I started to think that I might struggle to get my way on this one. Upon entering the kitchen, I held Brian up, trying to show off his best side (if he had one) and to make him look as cute as possible. I failed and my wife looked sternly at me before stating firmly "do you really need me to comment?". Knowing the taste of defeat, I responded with "shall I put him back in the car then?"

So since then, that is where Brian has been residing, in the back of my car. He has spent Christmas & New Year in the boot of my car like an aged dog, frozen in time. It hasn't been a problem until yesterday;, my sense of smell had been ineffective (due to a winter cold) and I was happily co-existing with Brian. However, on my journey home last night, my olfactory abilities returned and Brian's "individual" aroma nearly got the better of me. So much so that I had to turn the heater off in the car and open the window.

So, what now for Brian? Should he stay or should he go? As the Pulp Fiction quote goes "he's got personality and personality goes a long way". The problem is, the type of personality that Brian has is not that desirable. However, I have new plans for Brian, watch this space and find out.

Until later.