Roots, Badgers and Leaves

It was such a dark, dismal day yesterday, and such a nasty storm last night, I thought we could do with something merry and bright, so I thought Elecampane.  Here is a gorgeous photo Aimo took in Scotland:

Another Beautiful Photo by Aimo

where you can see a most impressive stand of elecampane in a garden at Poolewe.  We have elecampane in the garden at Aimo's House, but it never looks anything like this.

Mrs Grieve has several pages about elecampane.  It's synonyms are: Scabwort, Elf-Dock (Elf-Doc in Danish), Wild Sunflower, Horseheal and Velvet Dock (Miss Aimson got some velvet docs for her birthday).  It's habitat: it is found widely distributed throughout England, though can scarcely be termed common.  This is a bit of a first for the garden at Aimo's House, where, as you know, most things are common.  Actually it was after seeing the fine display of elecampane in Poolewe that I realised how badly the elecampane was doing here.  Culpepper says elecampane "groweth in moist grounds and shadowy places", which makes strange it can't get on here, as you don't get much more moist and shadowy than the garden at Aimo's House.  Culpepper also says that elecampane was probably more common in elder times, which is a bit of a comfort to know that you can get less common.

An interesting point in botanical terms is that the leaves on the stem are short, broad and stem-clasping.  That would be a good word to add to the discussion on clipping, clept and cleppy (see post Cleppy Bells and Clipping the Church).

Elecampane has been used as a medicine and as a condiment since ancient times.  Horace apparently quipped that Romans, after dining too richly would pine for turnips and elecampane.  That sounds a bit far-fetched to me, as I can't imagine anyone pining for turnips; and as a witticism it's hardly Oscar Wilde (his birthday yesterday Miss Aimson informs me).  Pliny tells us that Julia Augustus let no day pass without eating some roots of elecampane, considered to help digestion and cause mirth.  I'm with Julia Augustus, whoever she might be, that anything that increases mirth is a good thing.  Finally Galen stated that elecampane "is good for passions of the hucklebone called sciatica".  I'm not quite sure where my hucklebone is, but I'm pretty sure soothing it would be a good thing too.

So, to sum up, elecampane is just the ticket if you're troubled with: a cold windy stomach, shortness of breath, shortness of mirth, cramps, gout, sciatica, wheezing in the lungs, TB, snakebite, and made into an ointment with hog's suet or oil of trotters (that's a recipe you don't often see these days) is a "most effective remedy for scabs or itch in young or old."  Maybe we should offer badgers elecampane sweets, it may cure their TB.  At the very least they could help with scabs and itches, windy stomachs, increase their mirth and soothe their hucklebones, which can't be a bad thing.

Maybe it's the Moustaches...

I have been watching this:

Quite a fleamsy film

Very Fleamsy, I must say, especially the Harvest Home and the Circus.  I saw on the credits that Dave Swarbrick played the fiddle at the Harvest Supper/Wedding Feast, so no wonder it was so authentically Fleamsy.

I must say, if I was putting tarpaulins on corn ricks in a thunder storm, I would get dressed rather than just putting a shawl on over my nightie.  But then I'm just a lightweight really.  Really it's quite unlikely that I would be putting tarpaulins on ricks in a thunder storm at all.  I'm not keen on ladders.  Or heights.  There's nothing I can't reach in Aimo's House standing on a chair, and that's the way I like it.

You should watch the bit when the circus comes to town; Dick Turpin's Ride is the essence of Fleams.  It reminds me rather of Maria Marten and the Murder in the Red Barn. 

Another Fleamsy Film

I don't know why, there isn't a circus in that.  Maybe it's the moustaches...

Artist's Proofs

Here are some of the latest prints from the studio:

A Devil

A Horrified Man

A Mermaid

Wirksworth Owd Man

What do you think?  I think a style is emerging, which will become the look of Fleams.

A Friendly Cow

Where have I been since Fri 4 Oct? 

I found a new place to dwell
down Codeine St, at Bad Back Hotel.

I have been reading quite a bit.  I finished The Hobbit, and am well through the Lord of The Rings I - The Fellowship of the Ring and getting into the swing of it.

I have been thinking about fantasy as a genre, Tolkien being mostly responsible for the huge growth of the genre since the 60s.  One master of fantasy is Alan Garner.  Some would say Elidor invented the genre of urban fantasy where an otherworld exists within (or parallel to) an everyday modern world.  What about Susan Cooper?, I would add.  The Dark is Rising sequence has long been a favourite of mine, and now I am reading LOTR at last, I can see how her work relates to it.

But Alan Garner is a completely different kettle of fish.  He does something I don't understand at all.  He tells you one story, and by some sleight of hand, slips another story, or atmosphere, or scenario, or something-I-don't-know-what, into your mind when you weren't looking.  How does he do that?  I can't figure it out.  I could understand if you were at a live performance, and while ostensibly listening and watching one story, another one snuck into your brain.  But how does Alan Garner do that with the written word?  There is no other performance, no other environment.  Just you, reading words in a book.

It is perhaps his mastery of language?  His language has two strands in it, one that you are concentrating on, another that works in a different way, perhaps?  As Miss Aimson is studying Eng Lit and Creative Writing perhaps she will find out and tell me.

I am quite happy as a person to switch off my intellect and just let art wash over me, giving me what experience it will.  With auditory dyslexia, listening to words to follow the meaning of language can be quite tiring.  I have concluded in the past that that is why listening to singing in another language is so relaxing.  Songs and human voice are a very different thing from instrumental music.  Listening to the human voice is a very different experience, but listening to a song in your own language draws you into listening with the language part of your brain, which is, as I say, tiring with auditory dyslexia.  Listening to songs in foreign language, you have the pleasure of listening to the human voice without trying to understand words.  Sigur Ros, I think, sing in a language known only to them; this has the same effect, you can listen to a song without having to listen to words.

When we went to see Alasdair Roberts (August posts) it was a beautiful live performance, he can  (like Alan Garner) create two strands at the same time, but there was a limit to how long you could concentrate on language that intently (not at all if you were Spanish and had had a few drinks).  Still, I can imagine how a performer could create that experience live, but how does Alan Garner do that on the written page?  And in very concise pieces of writing.  The story of Edward Frank and the Friendly Cow in this volume:

A Very Good Book

is perfection of this type.  I would love to know how he tells one story while telling you another.  And, of course, I would love to be able to do it myself.

Hobbits and Treasure Seeking

I have just read The Hobbit, for the first time, as unbelievable as that sounds. 

The Hobbit

The book was always on the bookshelf when I was a kid, and this is the copy Aimo has had on the bookshelf since long before I knew him.  Our kids were read it for bedtime stories many times, but still I have never read it until now.  I have bought all kinds of books of Tolkien inspired art, I have visited the studio-gallery of Linda and Roger Garland, famous illustrators of Tolkien, but still I have never actually read any Tolkien.  I have even read Tom Shippey's defence of Tolkien's literary achievements, but still not read even The Hobbit.

J R R Tolkien

Until now.  Now I'm moving straight onto The Lord of The Rings Vol I, while I've got some momentum.

This afternoon I've watched Jane Eyre (2011). 

Jane Eyre (2011)

Miss Aimson had pointed out the brilliant deleted scene: Bertha Rips Jane's Veil.  I watched the film, then the deleted scenes.  I was horrified to see they had deleted the scenes with the supernatural and gothy content.  Why would you make a beautiful misty grey Jane Eyre with naturalistic hauntings then delete them?  Big mistake. 

I have exhibited at Art Fairs at Haddon Hall where it was filmed, and had some stuff in the gift shop once.  The people there were very entertaining with their behind-the-scenes filming anecdotes.  Also a local needlework emporium had supplied the veil.  Also, I saw the costumes exhibited at Bronte Parsonage Museum when we took Miss Aimson for a visit (every English Lit. student should really go, it's compulsory).  It's a good version of the film, beautiful and true to life, similar to the last Wuthering Heights, but prettier and less gritty.  It would be very very good in the supernatural cut.

Watching it I was reminded of the "money grubbers" argument at The Green Man Gallery.  One faction thought the gallery should be more "art for art's sake" and less money-grubbing (strangely enough, they had pensions to live on).  The other faction thought there was nothing wrong with selling art for money in an honest business transaction, and that living by your efforts and work is not sordid in any way, but a noble calling.  I might give as evidence for this argument the fact that the Bronte sisters set out to write their books as a money grubbing exercise, and a bloody good job they did, or we wouldn't have some of English's best-loved classics.

Arty Quills

I was trying to scan in some linocuts, and the scanner couldn't cope with the amount of white space.  It came up with some very interesting images:

First Attempt

Second Attempt

Third Attempt

Fourth Attempt

I think they like rather good, an art project in themselves.  After that, the real linocut is a bit dull, but still one of my favourites from the latest batch:

Finally, the Quill

Here's another one that's dried:

Terrified Lady

Today I've printed a mermaid and a toady old man.  They seem to take ages to dry, so it'll be a while before I can show you.

Resting my back now, getting ready to go to the Vernon Mill Artists Preview evening tomorrow night.  We will go and see great artists like Angela Fox, and Miss Aimson's favourite, Teresa Wilson.

White Moustache

Cheryl saw yesterday's post and was sorry for me and my poorly back.  So she has sent me some photos of Pablo as I couldn't get to see him.  I want to see him even more now!

Little Pablo

And his White Moustache

He is very very cute.  He will probably be one of my favourite animal friends.  I saw my cat friend on the fence this morning, she wasn't out long as it is raining and horrible.  Here is a picture of the two dogs, who although I don't generally hang around with dogs, are my friends:

Mostyn and Daisy

Mostyn is a very arty dog, he visits me at the studio sometimes.  You can see here they are out walking near Fleams.

p.s. I did call on the way back from the studio to see Pablo.  He is very tiny still, but quite independent, and capable of facing off Mostyn.  Master Aimson suggested that Pablo's full name should by Pablo Moustachio.

Here is one of the new linocuts from the studio:

A Wolf

And now to bed to read my new magazine:

A New Magazine