A lovely weekend

 Guess what? I met a blog reader yesterday. She came to my exhibition at home and it was so nice to meet her! I wish I could have had more time to chat than we did, but there were other people wanting to talk to me. 

I haven’t slept well these last three nights…Friday I was too excited, and Saturday and Sunday my brain wouldn’t stop whirring around visitors and paintings. It was a lovely time seeing old friends and family and hearing them have friendly conversations with people they had never met before. Dave said afterwards “I suppose this is what a party must be like, but without the dancing and the alcohol.”

He was ensconced in the kitchen serving coffee and cake, hoping to stay away from the socialising, but people sought him out. My brother said “Of course they did - he’s so interesting to talk to.”

I couldn’t have done it without Dave. He helped with getting the house ready and he hung all the paintings. He is so much better at display than I am.

I sold six paintings and I raised money for Medical Aid for Palestinians through the sale of my cards, and the house looked beautiful thanks to all the clearing and cleaning. 

I took three videos so you can get a quick shufti.

These are paintings in my studio that were not for sale 

These are paintings on the landing and stairs that were not for sale

These are the paintings that WERE for sale, hanging in the other two downstairs rooms

Getting ready

 We have a problem at Hepworth Towers neatly summarised by one of our ‘kids’ this way: “Every horizontal surface is full of stuff that Dave had made and every vertical surface is covered by Sue’s paintings.”

This means that getting ready for an exhibition doesn’t just consist of cleaning and baking, it’s also about clearing spaces, which means the bedrooms are becoming full of stuff.

But downstairs is looking lovely! Well, it will be when Dave has cleared his piles of books from the floor in the sitting room.

Dave complained this morning that I never wipe the kitchen surfaces properly and that if he died (and so would not be here to clean them properly) they would build up layers of particles of food and look like a social services horror video. He does like to exaggerate…this morning it was a few sugar crystals from the lemon curd I made yesterday.

I replied that if I died the house would look like one of those houses where people had to make corridors through piled up junk.

“No, the house would be a series of workshops - one for stained glass, one for woodwork…one for ancestry research, one for storing my tools, one for…and I’d get rid of the cooker and install a giant fridge just for yoghurt.”

Whatever.

The paintings are now hung and I have to write an information sheet and bake the cakes. The cards for sale are all laid out. All the profits from those will go to Medical Aid for Palestinians.

I’m getting excited. It won’t be like last time when people sat out in the garden and chatted with strangers after viewing the paintings, because it won’t be warm. But I am looking forward to it. It’s Saturday and Sunday afternoons and if you’re a regular blog reader and you’d like to come, get in touch. One blog reader from another county has already said she’s coming, which is exciting for me as I have never met her.

I still have an account on Twitter (though I intend to leave) so you could direct message me for directions. Or you could send me a message on Instagram. I don’t like putting my email address online. Do come!

Letter from home

 It’s been a mixed week, beginning with the AI-created podcast about my blog that Isaac sent. It was created by a Google product that is still in development, and Isaac knew I’d be amused to see how it worked with my blog as a subject. 

This was my first personal experience of AI and it was an education. I was amused and intrigued while also being a bit creeped out. (There’s a link in the last post so you can listen too.)

I am not a fan of this genre of podcast - an informal chat on a topic - but of course I listened avidly because the subject was me!

After listening to it just once I was amazed that it had landed on the essence of the blog when the material that it had used was my blog from July to September this year, an uncharacteristic period of the blog as a whole. There were three weeks when I hadn’t blogged, and I’d been away from home for two other weeks. 

So how had it come up with the conclusion that the essence of the blog was my focus on the small things of everyday life while being upset by the state of the world? Amazing.

But there were disappointing inaccuracies:

Dave’s letter to the Chief Rabbi was not bridge building, it was a strong challenge.

Dave was not phlegmatic about the lost coat incident. I had clearly written that he “was exuding anxiety and misery.”

I was not over-egging Dave’s or my reactions to the missing coat - they were genuine.

The mention of a tapestry about Gaza in St David’s Cathedral, when there isn’t one.

Those are the four mistakes I can remember. 

Isaac has also sent me an AI produced cast of characters from the blog, which included three people that baffled me until I realised they were three characters from Zuzu’s Petals that appeared in an excerpt I’d included. AI had not noticed they were fictional characters, though a blog reader definitely would have. 

Having mulled the whole thing over for a day or so, it made me feel uneasy. This is a product in development, but even so, the inaccuracies were disappointing. What if the Home Office decided to use AI to assess a claim for asylum that was absolutely justified but inaccurate conclusions turned the refugee down? 

There have been some blissful days of sunshine this week, which have been a gift. I managed to ride in my bike to the end of the Trail for the first time since I damaged my knee. Whooppee!

And another first was going out on my electric bike.

A video I took to show you the view:

I sat on the top of Longstone Edge with my flask of tea and felt so blessed and thankful that this is my life. How fortunate am I to live somewhere beautiful and safe?

On Thursday Liz and I went on the sightseeing bus and this is her photo of the view from the top of the Hope Valley:

On Friday I read the week’s news thoroughly and sunk into a pit of gloom. I am already horrified by Israel’s genocide in Gaza and now their rampant violence in the West Bank, their torture of Palestinian prisoners - some held without charge - and now they are killing civilians in the Lebanon. This last vicious escapade is in contravention of a law that they are signatories to that states that countries are “prohibited in all circumstances to use booby traps or other devices in the form of apparently harmless portable objects that are specifically designed and constructed to contain explosive material.”

What does Israel have to do before the leaders of the western world will condemn them and withdraw all support? 

I felt so gloomy yesterday and I wondered how to get out of it. It made me think of a recent conversation I had with my younger brother about the disparity of our cushy lives with those of millions of people around the world. We decided we need to be aware of it, to do what we can, to be kind and to try to spread happiness in our immediate circles. Which reminds me of my mantra during Covid - “stay healthy, stay cheerful and try to be kind.”

The quote below is from a display I saw in St David’s Cathedral in July and is a detail the podcast did pick out:

Podcast on my blog

 Isaac sent me something really weird and interesting yesterday. This is what he said in his email:

The AI sampled my blog from July to September 2024 and came up with a podcast I listened to in amazement, because those months this year are unrepresentative of my blog as whole, and yet AI seemed to capture the essence of the blog. 

Listen to it yourselves, and see what you think. 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XEOlDAOFahX1oTEaRkYNv9CuuSlqySFL/view

I will tell you what I think in my next post.

Sweet peas ready for the lunch tables at our recent refugee hospitality day

Sweet pea posies for our guests to take home

Genocide in Gaza

This morning I read about three separate incidents of people self-immolating in front of Israeli embassies or consulates, to protest about the genocide in Gaza. 

My heart aches for Palestinians in Gaza and now in the West Bank.

The link I want to share with you is to an article about an artist in Gaza.

https://mondoweiss.net/2024/09/this-gaza-artist-drew-portraits-depicting-a-lifetime-of-wars/

Peace and quiet

We live a very quiet life at Hepworth Towers, and there have been times in the past when I have been desperate for something to happen, times when I have wanted to go away somewhere, or for someone to visit, just because I’ve been aching for a change. 

Not so this year. This year has been hectic, with changed plans and unexpected occurrences, and this summer has been particularly upside down and all over the place. 

When I got back from the sibs reunion after a long and tiring journey on Thursday there followed three busy days, all involving social interaction when I needed to be on my best behaviour.

It all came out on Monday morning. I am a naturally irritable person, but on Monday I was so impatient and bad tempered that Dave told me off, and asked me what on earth the matter was. 

“I’m tired. My brain is dead. I’m sooooo tired. I wanted to stay in bed this morning and watch videos on my iPad.”

“Well, why didn’t you? You’re retired. You can stay in bed all day if you like. Why don’t you sit and read this morning?”

I agreed I wouldn’t go out on my bike, I’d stay at home and potter. I did nothing but wash out my paint pots. They are a huge collection of clear little plastic pots with lids, the kind you get olives or hummus in. When I have mixed too much of a colour I store it in a pot. The next day I might want the same colour I used the day before and there it is, in the pot. But eventually these spoonfuls of paint dry up and the pots need cleaning. It was very satisfying. And restful.

The next day my brain was still tired but I wasn’t in chewing-up mode any more, thank goodness. There was nothing in the diary and that felt wonderful. I could go for a bike ride. I could settle in to normal life at Hepworth Towers, sweep the patio, and trim the cotoneaster that overhangs it. If it’s a fine day for my exhibition at the end of the month, people will want to sit out there and eat cake. 

There’s a lot of tidying up to be done before the exhibition, but this week it doesn’t feel like work, it feels like settling in, like a cat pawing the quilt to make a nice place to sleep.

Yesterday I had a phone chat with Liz and a FaceTime with Het and I started a new painting, and Dave and I walked down the Trail to Hassop Station for lunch and my knee didn’t hurt. It was another lovely quiet day.

I am still picking sweet peas. 

Sweet peas in a jug that belonged to my mother 

Sweet peas in a mug Lux decorated for me

It’s been such a good year for them. I have wanted to keep them going until this Saturday when we have our last Refugee Hospitality Day of the year. I always pick posies for the lunch tables. It’s a lovely job. 

I’ve got all the craft materials ready, there is a large veggie lasagne in the freezer, and I just need to make a flan and a large salad, and I’m ready. We (the committee) have a large fixed menu we’ve arrived at over the years that works very well, and each volunteer brings one or two items on it. All we need now is a dry day, and the forecast for Saturday (on this Thursday morning) is good. Hospitality Days are wonderful and exhausting. After a few days of peace and quiet I feel ready for this one.

🤞

Away with the Sibs

 I’ve been staying with the Sibs at my younger sister’s lovely house near Winchester. Every time we have our annual Sibs reunion I think how pleased our parents would be to think we liked each other enough - still - to want to spend time together.

Playing Rummikub.
Photo by Jonty

But I don’t have much to say this time, so it’s going to be a picture postcard post.

The trees and the chalk streams in Hampshire are so lovely

And it’s good to be in striking distance of the New Forest and the seaside.

Here we are taking Jen for a posh lunch in Chichester to say thank you

Photo by Jonty

Left to right - me, Kath, Jonty, Jen, Pete.

I need to tell you that I am going to leave Twitter (X) so it means that those of you who find out about new blog posts via my posts there will have to find me another way. It’s easy! Just Google Sue Hepworth blog, and click on the main link and you’ll arrive. 

Dave’s letter to the Chief Rabbi

Dear Rabbi Mirvis

 

I carefully read your statement on the UK government’s withdrawal of some 30 arms licences for export to Israel.

 

Like you, I wish wholeheartedly for the safe return of all the hostages. I wonder, though, whether Mr Netanyahu’s government has that aim high on its list of priorities. His approach seems completely other than that, and a large section of the Israeli population appear to agree that a different approach is needed. The kind of unrestrained carnage visible to us all in Gaza and the West Bank was never likely to bring home the hostages, or to ensure their safety.

 

Unlike you, I do not accept that the current war resulted from the atrocity of last October. It began in the long years of occupation, illegal settlements, and the systematic mistreatment of the Palestinians. 

 

Unlike you, I do not believe that the cruelty of this conflict is one-sided. The intolerable number of deaths in Gaza, the wholesale destruction of housing and infrastructure, and the repeated displacement of the population are all evidence of savagery. How else could they be described ?

 

Surely ‘an eye for an eye’ is more of a limiting statute than a permission for unrestrained vengeance. Israel clearly sees it as the latter, and, sadly, has the military resources to enable the unspeakable scenes appearing daily on our screens.

 

The UK has been morally complicit in this by supporting Israel, and the withdrawal of arms licences comes way too late and is too limited. It is the support of the West that allows Israel to act with impunity and without humanity.

 

I, too, look forward to a peaceful future, a wholly peaceful future in which all people are treated equally and fairly, and all may bring up their families in safety and prosperity. Perhaps in this future we can all put more effort into making common friends rather than the deracination of ‘common enemies’, who share our humanity and bleed and grieve as we do.

 

A civilised world – yes, I hope for that, too – cannot accept that violence is ever an answer. It is merely a determined failure to ask the right questions. 

 

Dave Hepworth