When we went to the canal festival a few weeks ago we both sat and drew. My hubby did a quick sketch of the large chimney at the back of the museum. You can see that although he doesn’t normally draw he’s got the idea of perspective and the regular lines on top of the bricks are the iron bands supporting the chimney all the way up its length. He’s also included a roof and trees and a brick wall.
Art isn’t something he generally does. He will pick up an adult colouring book sometimes but he tends to colour in with lines rather than shading things in fully. I think that is because he has a lot of anxiety and his mind bounces about and he doesn’t settle to one thing. But he is willing to try. I think that’s important. Art should be for everyone. They might not be Raphael or Titian but who knows what might emerge? Art is, I think, very important to humans, for aesthetics or design, communication or lifestyle. Just do it! ❤️
Looking like he’s holding Spode chimney up. My hubby allowed me to get him to hold his hand up as if he was leaning on the chimney and holding it up. It works surprisingly well. I’d seen this optical trick a few times and thought I would try to replicate it.
Chimney pots outside Cherished Chimneys in Longport, Stoke-on-Trent during Urban sketchers Stoke-on-Trent’s national sketching weekend in the Summer of 2019. So many shapes and sizes. We bought a couple as planters and filled them full of summer flowers. They make a terrific display because it raises the plants up above the ground. It’s also a good reuse of an object that might otherwise get smashed and used for hard-core on a building site.
Creating strange images. Floating objects. Buildings not held down by gravity. Defying the laws of physics, playful, a rocket, chimney, identified flying object. Old tiles and bricks badly laid. Clouds cracking to let the blue sky through. Can I see faces or animals in them. Your choice.
Chimney up high. Reflected in the surface of a picture. Once these were so important in heating the home. People had ranges to cook on, heat water and heat the house. Coal was the main fuel, with wood if you were not able to afford it.
When I think about it I can remember my grandmother having a gas fire installed. The old hearth was sealed off so that only the exhaust fumes from the fire went up the chimney. The World changed again and suddenly heating was from gas central heating, then combo boilers. Some homes had chimney breasts and chimneys removed to make more space. But with gas prices increasing people are now converting to wood burning stoves. They need the chimneys again. But beware. Legislation may be brought in to stop people using them as the particulates they expel are causing breathing problems in places like London. And chimneys? The juries out on whether they will continue architecturally.
I finally got into Cherished Chimneys in Longport, Stoke-on-Trent. Its an Aladdins cave of Chimney pots. Small, short, long, tall, fluted, straight, curved. Dark, light, terracotta, superb ceramics. The shop restores chimneys for buildings where the original pots have been lost, but also sells to the public who use them as ornamental sculptures and flower pots in their gardens. It’s worth taking a look if you are ever passing.
It’s 23 years since she died and I still miss her. I miss the visits with my mother to see her. She had an open fire in her living room and when I was little I used to make spills of rolled up newspaper to light the fire with. I think my grandad used to use them to light his pipe. Infront of the fire was a big peg rug, made of pieces of rag cut into thin strips and pushed through a hessian sack backing. The chimney caught fire once because gran had put a board across it to draw the air in. The fire caught the soot in the chimney. The fire brigade arrived.
At one stage I remember the kitchen had a tin bath on a ledge at the end of the kitchen. They must have had it infront of the fire. The other downstairs room in the house was the front parlour. It had a big heavy suite in it and an aspedistera in a pot on a stand. The parlour was only ever used for formal occasions. I think I remember dusting it for gran sometimes.
At the back of the house was an alleyway but it was only narrow and beyond that was the gate into the back garden. Gran and grandad used to keep hens.
Once you start remembering it’s funny what comes back.