![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Swings and roundabouts
Aug. 19th, 2016 10:17 pmYesterday was a funny sort of day, a mixture of things, some good, some - not so good, in a trivial sort of way.
It being the third Thursday of the month, we went to the Farmers' Market. We go if we can, whether we need anything or not - there's always something to buy, and if we don't support it, it will vanish. A couple of my regular stops weren't there: The pie stall wasn't there, and nor was the bread lady - because, Jane Gray (of Broom House Farm) told us, she has moved to Scotland. I will miss her, but it's a reason to try the new baker; and I also bought some croissants and some pains au chocolat from a French woman who was there for the first time.
For the first time in the week, I was free in the afternoon to watch Countdown and do some ironing - and it wasn't until I turned on the television that I realised Countdown had once again been cancelled to make way for the horseracing. As if two channels of wall-ro-wall Olympics weren't enough. The ironing will just have to wait.
At J.'s suggestion, the three of us went to Seaham for an event called From Out a Darker Sea involving East Durham Creates (community arts, by the look of it), So Percussion and Amber Films. It wasn't something I'd have picked out for myself - I'm wary of percussions, and know my limitations when it comes to experimental art - but I was happy to join J. for an excursion. First she came here for tea (we had the croissants and the pains au chocolat, which were excellent) and then we drove down to Seaham through a beautiful summer evening. I don't really have anything to say about the event itself - well, this: I'd anticipated that I would find the percussion heavy going, but that at least there would be things to look at, but as it turned out, the music, though loud, was interesting, while the visuals very much took second place (one section had no video at all). I don't know what the 'installation' aspect was about: painting colour onto sheets of newspaper and pegging them onto / unpegging them from a washing line: being a bad and inartistic person, I found myself distractd by trying to identify what the newspaper was (i, at a guess).
We drove home just as the moon was rising. At first, just a smudge of apricot in the sea mist on the horizon; then a semi-circle of orange behind the hillside, where J. was admiring the effect of the trees bordering the filds of stubble; finally, fully risen, huge and as round and golden as an egg yolk.
It being the third Thursday of the month, we went to the Farmers' Market. We go if we can, whether we need anything or not - there's always something to buy, and if we don't support it, it will vanish. A couple of my regular stops weren't there: The pie stall wasn't there, and nor was the bread lady - because, Jane Gray (of Broom House Farm) told us, she has moved to Scotland. I will miss her, but it's a reason to try the new baker; and I also bought some croissants and some pains au chocolat from a French woman who was there for the first time.
For the first time in the week, I was free in the afternoon to watch Countdown and do some ironing - and it wasn't until I turned on the television that I realised Countdown had once again been cancelled to make way for the horseracing. As if two channels of wall-ro-wall Olympics weren't enough. The ironing will just have to wait.
At J.'s suggestion, the three of us went to Seaham for an event called From Out a Darker Sea involving East Durham Creates (community arts, by the look of it), So Percussion and Amber Films. It wasn't something I'd have picked out for myself - I'm wary of percussions, and know my limitations when it comes to experimental art - but I was happy to join J. for an excursion. First she came here for tea (we had the croissants and the pains au chocolat, which were excellent) and then we drove down to Seaham through a beautiful summer evening. I don't really have anything to say about the event itself - well, this: I'd anticipated that I would find the percussion heavy going, but that at least there would be things to look at, but as it turned out, the music, though loud, was interesting, while the visuals very much took second place (one section had no video at all). I don't know what the 'installation' aspect was about: painting colour onto sheets of newspaper and pegging them onto / unpegging them from a washing line: being a bad and inartistic person, I found myself distractd by trying to identify what the newspaper was (i, at a guess).
We drove home just as the moon was rising. At first, just a smudge of apricot in the sea mist on the horizon; then a semi-circle of orange behind the hillside, where J. was admiring the effect of the trees bordering the filds of stubble; finally, fully risen, huge and as round and golden as an egg yolk.
