David Hockney

 

“David was an inspiration to artists and an evangelist for joy who gave the gift of his art to a world that really needs more not less of him right now.”

Tacita Dean, artist 

She speaks for me. He was an inspiration. I loved his colour, his continual exploration and I loved his accessibility, his lack of arty-fartyness, his humour, his dress sense, and his joy. And I appreciated the fact that he made painting landscapes, trees and flowers cool. He painted what he loved. 

I shall always remember his 2012 exhibition A Bigger Splash, which I went to, 8 years before I started painting myself, and which even features in one of my books - Plotting for Grown-ups.

My poster, sadly faded now




My souvenir carrier bag, not faded…

During lockdown, his Normandy Spring iPad paintings brought me huge joy, as well as inspiration. Het went to the exhibition in London and sent me the book. Thank you, Het!

Thank you, David.

Snaps

 While Dave has had constant heavy rain and even hail this week, we had another lovely day yesterday. Cold and sunny but warm enough out of the wind to enjoy the beach. This time we had a small one almost to ourselves. It was hot out of the wind but when I got to the sea the air was too cold to do anything but paddle. 

Photo by Liz

Channelling my Gran again, knitting socks. 
Photo by Liz

Yesterday’s beach below. Note the one sock, to cover a sunburned foot from the day before. 

Photo by Liz

I need to tell you that every day but one we have walked for at least half an hour (but usually an hour) to get to whatever beach we were going to. 

 

And then walked back.

We didn’t just drive there and flop.  We walked there and collapsed.

After the beach yesterday we called in at our favourite tiny plant place and cafe, where they bring your tea and scone to you in the garden.

And after that I wanted to see the lovely flowery path again, 

but the rangers had got there before me. 

Was it necessary to be quite so brutal?  Hey ho.

Today is rainy so we’re off to St David’s.

Holiday snaps

 More holiday snaps. I’m feeling too lazy/relaxed to write.

Stackpole Estate on Sunday…

An inlet full of flowering lilies 

The day began on Monday with Liz taking a shine to a snail in the patio doors and trying to get a picture of it with the moon behind.

Then we went to Whitesands Bay, where the sun was bright and the wind was cold and we had the authentic British seaside experience:

Can you spot our windbreak encampment?

I sent Dave the photo above and he said “Just the faintest touch of Death in Venice about that.” 

We walked from the cottage to the harbour for tea

And tried a new footpath home

But after another beautiful fairytale trek through grasses and red campion and hemlock as tall as us

we came to a stile and met some frisky young cattle who thought we were interesting, so turned back and came home our normal route.

Today it’s sunny and cold again so we’re going to try to find a sheltered beach.

Picture postcard

 Liz and I are staying in a cottage in Pembrokeshire, half a mile from the coastal path. It’s perfect for us - quiet, two bedrooms, two comfy sofas, good shower and a low tech kitchen. (I don’t want to be going on holiday and having to spend half a day working out how to control the cooker.)

The weather is iffy, but yesterday we had two great walks…one on the coastal path

Porthgain harbour

Liz looking for a swallow’s nest

Photo by Liz

And a later walk along an ancient fairytale bridle path. Photographs can’t convey the quiet, the fecundity of the red campions, the ancient feel of the place.

Photo by Liz

Photo by Liz

I’ll keep you posted.

On ageing

My dear friend Het sent me a link to an interesting article this week about maintaining your cognitive abilities as you age -

https://verycryptocurrency.substack.com/p/neuroscientists-studying-cognitive?r=77padt&utm_medium=ios&triedRedirect=true 

which was both interesting and challenging. It’s worth reading. The gist of it is that it’s not doing puzzles and word games that keeps your brain cells sprightly as you age, it’s challenging your brain in unfamiliar ways. Here’s a section of the piece:

I found it very convincing. Look at David Attenborough and David Hockney as two examples.

Het is currently learning Cornish and it’s a struggle, so she’s doing OK in the challenge stakes, but what am I doing? 

She was very encouraging: “I think grappling with a blank canvas and engaging with all the micro-decisions involved in completing a painting” counts. Everyone should have a friend like Het.

But painting aside, I obviously need to engage in more such challenges. For one thing I need to stop watching reruns of favourite TV programmes, such as Call the Midwife. But while we’re on the subject, I really think Trixie should have stuck with the lovely dentist. The man she ended up marrying was such a dud. What’s his name? Don’t you think?

I cut Dave’s hair yesterday, and while bemoaning his receding hairline and thinning crown, he suggested that at the age of 40 you should be given a choice as to which signs of youth you would be able to retain as you got older. He’d like to keep the whites of his eyes white, and not to have hairs growing in his nose. I’d like my two front teeth, top and bottom, not to show the signs of tea and coffee drinking, as they do, and I’d also like my eyelashes back. Oh yes, and the whites of my eyes.

This is me at the age of 38

Now:

See the teeth?

A dentist once told me that if you drink your coffee and tea through a straw it helps. Hmm. 

Garrison Keillor is a good example of happy ageing. In one of his recent pieces he talks about appreciating summer days much more than he did when young - ignoring the newspaper -  “a catalogue of decline, despair and dereliction” - and going for  a walk in Central Park.  I feel the same. On one of my favourite walks above the village this week, I stopped and lay down in the buttercups and looked at the blue sky for a while - it was all so beautiful.

A Mary Oliver poem…

Buttercups and Daisies

 It’s been so beautiful here this last month. The May blossom has faded now, and the cow parsley is on the turn, but ox-eye daisies(moonpennies) are coming into their own,

 and the buttercups are a wow…

Daisies are our silver,

Buttercups our gold.

These are all the treasures 

We can have or hold.

They are a constant inspiration…

Wayside daisies. On display in the Ashbourne Art Exhibition, June 20 - July 4.

The year the buttercups grew tall. Sold.

Moonpennies. For sale.

Daisies. Not for sale.

Daisies on the Trail. Sold.