Three score years and ten

 I'm not sure celebrating a bit of longevity due to what is effectively a mix of genetics and lifestyle is really something I want to do. Plus recently a few problems have reared their ugly heads to get  in the way of celebrating, even if I wanted to. But we won't dwell on that. Today is my birthday and the good news is that I have a selection of beer and a bag of crisps, well when I say crisps I really mean a big bag of cheesy puffs, my favourite. And essentially that’s enough for me. 

Famous people I share a birthday with include, Brian Cox (son of Dundee, and actor), Tom Robinson, Roonie Wood, Mike Joyce, Jonathan Pryce, Morgan Freeman and Robert Powell. Famous dead people who were born on this day (because of course dead people don't have birthdays) include Marilyn Monroe, Bob Monkhouse, Edward Woodward, Cleavon Little and Nelson Riddle.

As I've said before many times, in my head I'm still seventeen. Obviously my body increasingly laughs at this and refuses to play ball but I do feel that refusing to grow old mentally helps a little.

I've always made my art for my own amazement, I have been in exhibitions a few times, but I haven't put a lot of effort into it, it has to be said. There are occasions though when I think I would like my Warholian fifteen minutes but for my art rather than me. I guess that I'm a very shy person has never helped. Anyway if someone reading this can influence in any way my art reaching a much wider audience I'd really like that please.

Anyway, as you were.

Au revoir Meta and Twitter

 This year I decided to slim down the social media apps that I use. I got rid of Twitter which had become far too toxic to use. I also got rid of the Meta nonsense too; Facebook, Instagram and Threads. Twitter I used to enjoy but Meta I have always thought was shite. I only ever wanted to see stuff in chronological order. Meta can't comprehend such logic. So fuck em!

At first I found it strange, and a little lost, but I soon got over it. I feel much happier about not wasting so much time. It has though reduced the audience I had for my art. But then I don't make money from my art so it doesn't greatly matter.

Marley's ghost

 “Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever, about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it; and Scrooge's name was good upon change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.”

One of the few things that I've always liked about Christmas is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I don't remember a time when I didn't know the story. Of course I was brought up on Alistair Sim's film version and to this day it remains the definitive version in my view, but I like many other versions too. It's a story that never fails to bring a tear to my eye.

I have to confess that I didn't actually read the book until about five years ago. One thing that I wasn't expecting was that it would also bring a tear to my eye. It totally took me by surprise. That’s how good the writing is.

Anyway here’s a picture I drew loosely based on a Frank Findlay interpretation of Marley’s ghost. Enjoy.

Christmas tortoise advent calendar

As I’ve written here before, I’m not a big fan of Christmas. It’s the forced jollity and the over commercialisation that irritates me. It is after all just a celebration of the winter solstice. But anyway there are some things I like. I like candles, lights, public decorations and a modicum of comestibles. I dislike a lot of the nonsense and ritual that surrounds the period. But anyway a few years ago, spending a Christmas in France I discovered the Christmas Tortoise. From that point on the whole meaning of Christmas has been tortoise. So this year I thought I would create a sort of online advent calendar. My gift to the world that celebrates. You can find it here.

I hope they at least bring a modicum of amusement. The world is a shit place, and at this time of year the shit is amplified. Please do what you can to spread some cheer. If you feel able, please give to one or all of the following:

DEC

Oxfam

Trussell Trust

Please share across social media if you can.

Void of war

 I've long loved the work of Paul Nash. His poignant war paintings never fail to move me. My favourite is this one:

Void of war, 1918

I've actually seen this picture in the flesh so to speak. It stopped me dead in my tracks, and I stood looking at it for ages. It's simple, stark and effective. It appears to convey the futility, destruction and total waste and stupidity of war.

He was a wonderful painter. You can read more about him and further examples of his war art here on The Public Domain Review.

I went to Arles and discovered an artist

 As you wander the streets of Arles, echoes of the past are with you always. It's like no other place I've ever been. Like much of France it has a frayed beauty. Everywhere you look there is something interesting. A feast for the eyes. A crinkly smile comes to me as you look up at a quant building.

Van Gogh fell in love with the place; it's not hard to understand why. It's packed full of Roman and mediaeval architecture. So centre ville won't have changed that much since his time. There is a photograph around every corner, and I've probably taken that many. Here are a selection:

Nowhere man

 It's over a year now since moving to France. For a number of reasons it's not been an easy ride but it has been a necessary one. I consider myself a refugee. A Brexit refugee. Someone who has fled the rain, the disappointment and the gross stupidity that is England. I feel that the country of my birth birth has rejected me and my ilk. I certainly don't feel that I have rejected my country. The country that I knew and loved no longer exists; ruined by racists and other assorted morons. It is a country firmly in self destruct mode. It will not improve until it rejoins the EU. I can't imagine I'll live to see that day.

If I'm honest I don't feel totally at home here, but I've no desire to go back. I feel like I'm living in a nomansland. I am a nowhere man treading water. Don't get me wrong, I live in a lovely place and the people are very friendly here. I'm the problem. I don't really fit. But then I don't really fit anywhere now.