An Outing for Silver Skin

It seemed like such a good idea at the time - bring the proof copy of Silver Skin to the National Museum of Scotland and take some amazing photographs of it with the carved stones from Skara Brae.  I imagined something with reflections in the glass and a ghostly image of me in there somewhere looking, well, ghostly.  Turns out neither the lighting nor my camera were up to the job.  The gallery that has the Skara Brae stones is beautiful, wonderful, atmospheric - and dark.  Maybe with a tripod and a shedload more know-how than I have, something could have been achieved, but as it was ... not so much.  

So I had a bash at balancing the book on the Paolozzi exhibition cases in the outer area, and there, as you can see, it was too bright!  (That's my excuse ...)   

Never mind - for a first book-and-camera outing it was at least fun. And that's a bracelet from Skara Brae, anyway! 

Now where should I try next ...? 

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday I was over on An Awfully Big Blog Adventure, talking about some of the difficult decisions writers face when they have to go out into the world.  I called it Problems of Presentation and it's a issue of nightmare proportions for people who mostly live in pjs, slippers and inside their heads.

So today I though I'd like to celebrate that last bit - the living inside your head bit - 

Food for thought, eh?

Until only the mountain remains - writing inspired by Christopher Orr

Last week I read at an event in the Talbot Rice Gallery in Edinburgh.  The exhibition was called The Beguiled Eye and the artist was Christopher Orr.  (There's a short Vimeo video about Christopher here - an interesting guy.)  There was an open call for written responses and this was mine -

Darkness Visible painted by Christopher Orr (2006)

Looking at

you looking at

it

the stance says it all 

that slight leaning forward

the way your front foot begins to slide

the way the stripes creep over your shoulders

ready to head past your head 

all strangely quiet

not a sucking sound to be heard

or are there no other senses left?

just sight

just watching

the disappearing of light

into

the patient symmetry of the circle

looking at

you looking at

it

me tourist to you

who are tourist to

the road to hell's

black hole

not noticing

the traffic is one way

me noticing

you not noticing

me not noticing

the gravity of our situation.

There's a website or the written responses now called Until Only the Mountain Remains *- and here's an entirely unbiased recommendation - The Caretaker ** by writer son Callum Heitler.  Not to mention his story The Man Who Made the Weather which can be found in New Writing Dundee 8, out now.  He gave a reading at the launch last week (reported on STV).  All in all, pretty good going for our house!


* which is a quote from a poem by Li Bai (701-762) - I had to look it up, but I'm glad I did -

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

** inspired by this painting:

And My Object Is ...

She's called "The Foundling Girl" (1871) by David Watson Stevenson and I've blogged about how I met her on The History Girls - challenged and chuffed in equal measure!