Thursday, August 26, 2010
My birthday
Here is the story of my birthday treat day - well, some of it.
There was eating and drinking going on as well.
Too much eating and drinking really!
Some family and friends had thought ahead and sent cards a little before the big day. Well done those people!
We were out before the postman arrived later in the morning.
The quote on the card on the right, made for me by an old school friend says "Grandmas are just antique little girls".
How apt.
Here is a corner of Furlongs Farm, looking up to Beddingham Hill.
This is a view of camp - looking out towards Furlongs Farm.
This work by the same artist pleased me more. At least I could understand that he had used some thought about what should be in the room.
Maybe it was just too cold and wet up there on the roof.
That's Bill out there.
There was eating and drinking going on as well.
Too much eating and drinking really!
Some family and friends had thought ahead and sent cards a little before the big day. Well done those people!
We were out before the postman arrived later in the morning.
The quote on the card on the right, made for me by an old school friend says "Grandmas are just antique little girls".
How apt.
This one was taken today to allow all those good wishes to be recorded.
It was still dry when we left home - but the forecast was not good.
Our destination was Eastbourne - officially Britain's sunniest resort; well, not yesterday it wasn't.
The Towner art gallery is very modern and set in Devonshire Park.
I loved these modern chairs.
The building is a masterpiece - but we were there for the art - paintings and photographs.
Eric Ravilious spent time at a spot close to my heart on the South Downs.
When I was a child our parents' only chance to give us a holiday was to buy second hand camping equipment and find a field that would be suitable. All our equipment and our bikes.....and the cat..... were loaded onto a lorry; we didn't have a car. We camped for 3 or 4 weeks, sometimes exploring our own spot and at other times cycling to Newhaven for the beach or further out to all the Sussex villages.
Camp (and the place was just known as that) was a field on Furlongs Farm, below the top of Beddingham Hill, with views across to Mount Caburn. The farmer was Dick Freeman - but much of his farmhouse was let out to artists (must be pronounced with a strong Sussex accent!).
The artists had been coming and going since the 1930s.
One was Eric Ravilious, whose style of art I really appreciate.
Here is a corner of Furlongs Farm, looking up to Beddingham Hill.
In the 1950s there were still haystacks on that spot. I can remember being involved with the building of the stacks and being fascinated by the elevator which took stooks to the top to be moved around by men with pitchforks.
This is a later picture of me outside Furlongs Farm.
It claims to be 1958.
Look at me! Not dressed for a day on the farm. I probably had complained about having to go there at all. I was a teenager (just) and choosing not to be interested in my parents' lives at all. If I hoped for anything that day it was probably that Brian would be there - Dick Freemans' farm boy.
This is a view of camp - looking out towards Furlongs Farm.
Click on the picture to enlarge it a little. (then return by using the back arrow on the computer).
Notice the very flat section we are camped on - with a steep drop down to the valley floor just beyond.
This Ravilious picture shows that flat bit of land - just to the right of the little spinney, which had grown bigger by the time our family were on the scene.
And now I have my own copy of the same scene.
Camp would have been down the slope a bit, to the right of the track - I think.
Eric was an artist and he used his skills to alter the landscape a little to create the flowing lines that he wanted.
The Long Man of Wilmington.
By the time we had finished with pictures - and there was another gallery featuring Sussex scenes - it was raining.
We walked along the sea front towards the centre and a cafe.
After lunch we moved on to Bexhill.
This was the home of my grandparents and the birthplace of my Dad.
So I had seen the De La Warr Pavilion before - but I don't think I had ever been inside.
The building is a work of art - art deco style, completed in 1935.
I love it.
The stair case is a fantastic work of art too.
We walked around - inside and out. But not for long outside, the rain was quite wild.
We were on the balcony for this picture.
We had been admiring the sea, when I turned and saw our reflections in a window.
There was "proper" art within the pavilion.
Though it did lead us to question "What is art?"
This work by Tomoko Takahashi was interesting - wondering what you would see next as you walked past an arrangement of junk....but is it art?
This work by the same artist pleased me more. At least I could understand that he had used some thought about what should be in the room.
The other exhibition was on the flat roof and has achieved critical acclaim. It is a vast set of sculptures by Antony Gormley (he of Angel of the North).
I have read about it and read artistic explanations about the depth of emotions and meanings.
But I didn't really get it!
Its title is Critical Mass.
Maybe it was just too cold and wet up there on the roof.
Maybe my emotions were about not wanting to be out there - maybe that's what the figures were telling me.
My last picture shows the Sussex seaside in August - well, just one day.
It looks even more dreary than it should because my lens got wet and I hadn't really wiped it dry.
That's Bill out there.
So, that was my birthday. It was just as I wanted it.... yes, I would have liked the sunshine.
But I prefer to like things as they are - and wet was what it was.
In fact the birthday continued with the company of Julie and Roger.
I had been looking forward to wine - but I am old enough now to take heed of my body. And yesterday it told me that enough is enough!
But who needs wine to feel content?
I felt content - and tired.
Labels: Sussex
