In Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent is a place called Bethesda Methodist Chapel. It has been being restored over several years now. I have visited to sing there in performances with our choir. The building has gone from a crumbling shell to a much more robust structure. It is currently still being restored. One thing I have noticed are the spectacular stained glass windows. Methodist chapels are usually plain and simple. The wooden pews are unadorned. But the glass windows make me smile. It’s just beautiful art.
Our government has told us to open our windows to ventilate the rooms and reduce covid virus. But instead of opening a window in our living room my hubby just told me he’d had our bedroom window open all afternoon! I’ve been sitting here in two jumpers and my coat and thinking the central heating wasn’t working properly! I tried to explain that as we have the radiator on in there and it’s under the window it means we are just heating the outside atmosphere! I feel like turning the heating off and opening all the windows and doors! There’s following instructions and then there’s wasting energy! God knows what our gas bill will be like!
Sitting in my car on a sunny day. Waiting for an appointment with the vets. They had to phone me while I was outside because I wasn’t allowed inside with my cat. The problem was that my phone signal wasn’t good. I was ten foot away from the vet and she couldn’t hear me! I stood outside the car and shouted, she still didn’t hear me. But I know the layout of the surgery. Beyond the door is a short corridor, at the end is the consulting room. If she had opened the consulting room door, she would have heard me. Meanwhile my cat was quiescent in his travelling bag. We’ll, eventually the vet came out. The cat was carried in. Then half an hour of waiting. That’s when I took this photo.
Next stop? Ultrasound scan on his heart next week as he has a heart murmur. Also antibiotic liquid, that was fun. It took ages, but I got him to take it in cat milk. Cats don’t know what’s good for them!
Fingers crossed he will be a bit better when he has the scan.
This afternoon, after singing with the curiosity choir, a scratch choir made up of two choirs I’m in and members of the public, I visited a craft fair at Stoke Minster in Stoke, Stoke-on-Trent.
It’s a beautiful victorian church, it’s basically the main church in the city, where funerals of famous city residents have taken place.
This is not a cathedral, but I think it ought to be. If not on religious grounds, then for the respect of the city.
On a dark grey day the windows lightened my mood. So beautiful and poignant.
I was at a college this afternoon singing with our choir. We were in a very modern new building and the curved glass windows looked out over old trees. As we practiced before the performance we saw a great heron circling around these trees and a buzzard or some other bird from the raptor family sitting on a branch and looking at the heron. I think that’s why it was circling and not landing. Herons are strange and gangly Their legs are long and dangle down as they fly. They have long wings that flap slowly and a small head with a pointed beak carried on a long neck which is bent in a flat S shape as it flies.
Grey and white the heron flapped round in lazy circles. I think it was wary of landing. The river dane is nearby and I guess it might have been fishing there.
As we went into the room we were performing in I took this quick photo, unfortunately the birds had flown off. But what a spectacular view we had.
Curtains, you cover my modesty
Hide my imperfections,
You keep the warmth in, the heat out.
You stop me seeing the rain,
Shut out the traffic
Such a simple invention.
You divide rooms,
Seperate scenes in plays,
And yet you remain unremarked.
You can be cut down to make a dress
Or a gown.
You protect tapestries and paintings
From harsh sun.
You fade in sunlight
Get moth eaten
Eventually fade and die
Then it’s “curtains” for you!
No not the trade marked version. But old windows at Spode. Dusty and dirty and empty of footsteps, no faces staring out of them, no lights behind them, no shapes of pottery stacked. Life is quiet for the factory, silent. The place is shunned, surplus to requirements. How can it still exist?
Time passes, new movement as people take up spaces. Shift of light, shift of direction. Art and theater, people sleep on site now in the hotel. The chance to regenerate like a time lord. The site has age and power behind it. The ghosts look on, seeing the lights, wondering what will happen next. Will they be evicted from the deep soft clay dust that coats their footprints and hides their breath.
If you want an abstract image you don’t need to go far in spode studios. Just look down at the floor. The yellow stripes and turquoise patches make a fine design. I don’t know what the building was like before they put studios in on either side of the corridor but perhaps the blue green areas were where machines were sited.
I took a couple of pictures today but couldn’t help getting my foot in one….
I think if I painted these they would have to have a thick varnish so that they have that sheen that the floors have. So many ideas that I can think of, I love the way there are views and images at the old spode site that evoke the history of the place.
Here are two more photos. This time pictures out of the windows of of the studios.