eco vandalism

Freddie Mercury

The inner artist is progressing slowly. I've finished a portrait of Freddie Mercury, a singer whom I love and was keen to capture a likeness. Also, I've started my first oil painting - a very much more difficult exercise, but a road I was keen to tread since being given an easel and box of oil colours by our friend Robin. I am keen to do a memorial portrait of my friend Colin, following his recent death. It is hard starting without lessons, but Ben bought me a book on beginning to paint in oils, and there are a number of good videos on YouTube that are helpful, though every artist seems to have their own technique, no two of which agree. It seems to be a case of "do whatever's right for you". Bob Ross's series on BBC is helpful, with good tips about mixing colour and creating background skies and landscapes, but he uses a three inch housepainter's brush and never paints people or animals, let alone portraits in close-up. In the end, I am just having to experiment with mixing the paints, blending the colours, and building up the picture and learn as I go along.

The boys continue in quarantine, but are released this weekend, so Ann has invited them over for a celebratory meal as part of our "household bubble". More bubbly characters than those two it is hard to imagine, and we are delighted to be their first port of call after release from house arrest.

On Monday, Rosie had her scan to check all was developing well, and to determine the sex of the child. Matthew decided to announce it to everyone in a mass video call; to cut a long presentation short, it's a girl. They haven't chosen a name yet, but Lucia, who seemed to have predicted it correctly, now said she ought to be called Olivia. We all agreed that was a lovely name, but of course it will be for Matts and Rosie to decide, and it was too soon for them to announce anything yet.

eco vandalism

I am cursed by neighbours
destroying God's good trees
sawing, chopping, felling -
no dream of conservation
but the striving desperation
of watching woodland fall.
But, for every one he destroys,
I will plant not one but two,
I will spoil the despoilers view
cover him with emerald green
until his house cannot be seen
and beech, elm and crawling leaf
will suffocate and bind his limb
to still his hand from eco sin.

Annie Elliott

Work continues to gather pace, but we still manage to spend some time in the garden and visit a number of garden centres to buy screening plants, to shield off the barren fence where our new neighbour has butchered all the trees. Once, our garden was a haven of peace where we would hear no more than the murmur of insects or birds calling each other, but no longer. On teleconference calls, I have to shut the window to keep back their noise, or even close it against their yapping dogs, even on these hot days.

He has a massive garden, four times the size of ours, but has turned the thing into a chewed up mess, and is now busy concreting a large part of it to take new buildings for their proposed joint businesses. The whole place has taken on the aura of a building site, with him, his brother and son shouting constantly the whole day as they break up foundations with a sledge hammer or rattle what sounds to be piles of scrap iron, the whole business accompanied by what seems to be a ritual of cursing and swearing.

We respond as Ann writes: by planting more trees on our side of the fence. We are slowly building a screen of green to fence him off. Even now they are at the front bellowing at each other. I am working in my room at the back, but still they drown out the birds and the peace.