1765…and now it’s gone. History destroyed after more than 200 years. Potters going in to drink at the end of a hot shift. Gilders taking a pint of beer. Food served, life passing by. Once a hotel famous in the Midlands. Feared because it was haunted, loved because it was haunted. Life came and went. It became dilapidated but was rescued. Then covid struck and it closed. But friendly people wanted to buy it back off the new owners and turn it into a community building. Something that would see it restored. Now it will probably never rise from its ashes. Photo by Stokie Bloke. Will remove if this is not acceptable to him.
Today’s #bandofsketchers prompt was destruction. The Leopard Hotel in Burslem, Stoke-on-Trent, was destroyed by fire just a few weeks ago. This is a sketch from a photo by Stokie Bloke (I can’t face visiting the Leopard Hotel). Not very accurate. You can see the roof has gone. There were more photos including the room where my murals were. The walls are still standing, but there are just blank ashy grey spaces. So sad.
This was our local police station, now its being knocked down! What a waste of resources. No doubt they will build a block of apartments. Our city used to have about seven police stations including a headquarters. Police could get to crime scenes or incidents quickly. Now they are miles away. A few years ago the government removed twenty thousand police jobs. Suddenly they decided they wanted to recruit twenty thousand again. Where do they go? What a strange situation. Its a bit like getting rid of all restrictions for Covid which the government are currently doing. Will they, after a few months, have to bring them back again. I wonder how much money they are wasting and how many lives they might devastate by removing the police and relaxing the rules?
My heart hurts
I miss you so much
I stroke your shadow
In my imagination
The way you purred
Balanced like a gymnast
My podgy puddy cat
Leaned back and looked up
Waiting to nuzzle my hand
You are still there.
Like Schrodinger’s Cat
Gone, not gone?
I still don’t know where my cat has gone. We went for a walk yesterday evening with our cat carrier. If we saw him in someone’s window or garden we were going to knock on their door and demand they give him back!
Sadly that didn’t happen. I feel more and more despondent. There is an empty space in the house and in my mind. The way he ran up and jumped on the back of the settee with a purrow! The way he came into the bathroom in the morning and greeted me with head butt’s and cheek rubs. I miss him. Hubby misses him. If he has died because of his heart condition I want to be able to say goodbye.
Sorry, just so sad….
When you open up Facebook you don’t expect to hear that a friend has passed away. Someone who I admired. A good artist and a compassionate and sensitive man.
I guess I would rather find out than not know at all. Waiting to see if he would post new art, or a post about how he was feeling. He went missing for a couple of months about two years ago. He eventually turned up and everything turned out OK.
Now, I don’t know. I guess I’m glad I met him on a website and saw his art, he lived in a different country so we were never going to meet up. But that doesn’t matter, he was a very good artist and was a thoughtful person.
I lost another friend in a similar way last year. This was a woman from overseas. Another artist.
The internet allows people who would never normally meet to find each other. At least I’ve found out what has happened. Feeling very sad.
She held it together
When we needed her
I wish I could hold her hand
Tell her how much I miss her.
I miss my Mom, its been around ten years since she died, but I often wish I could just phone her up for advice. I did a painting of her in 2008 and I just did this sketch from it. I can see so many mistakes. I need to set an easle up. Trying to draw while holding the painting… Tired arms…
The best thing are her eyes, they are right…
Held your head up high
Magenta and pink
Feeder of bees
Seed head of spikes
Like an ancient mace.
You are annual
You only flower once
Hallucination, dream, ghost?
At 3am on Halloween morning he awoke to see a figure by the bed. Still, silent, watching him. He blinked and it was gone. But it’s memory stuck in his mind. A grey haired tall woman. Middle aged, quite slender. He sat up and looked all round the room, but the only noise was the tick of the clock and the hum of the central heating. There was no place to hide in the small single bedroom. Not even any curtains to hide behind, with a telltale shoe sticking out. He doubted anyone could squeeze behind venetian blinds…..
Eventually sleep dragged him down into its arms again. Then when he was settled, the figure pushed through the wall and back next to him again. Eyes staring, never blinking, a look of sadness on her face. Never knowing her grandson till now. Knowing it was his last night on earth. One minute here… Tick… The next.. Gone.