En plein pluie
I took yesterday off work. I'm building up flexi time so that I can have a day off every 3 or 4 weeks - it's not hard as my hours are quite short anyway, but it's a possible alternative to officially going to four day weeks without the pay drop that brings.
I have a couple of projects on the go at the moment and one other I really need to get cracking on, but the keystone builders next door set up in earnest and 8:30am the plates in the kitchen cupboards were singing in harmony with whatever weapon of mass destruction they were using and it became clear that working in Strawberry Fields wasn't going to be an option, so I decided to go out and about, hopefully taking in the Glasgow Boys exhibition at the Kelvingrove. I prefer to take time off and see these things at quieter times and this seemed like as good an opportunity as any.
So I packed up the sketchbook and headed along to the Kelvingrove, only to be greeted by a picket line, as the Kelvingrove was on strike. I asked why and had a brief political discussion with the woman stood there. I think I suprised her by not agreeing that a pay freeze and a cut down on overtime was grounds to down tools and shut a public service in this day and age, but they're going to have to be prepared for that if they're going to go on strike. I then headed to GoMA in town, but it too was shut for the same reason. At least a few of the strikers at Kelvingrove had actually gone to form a picket and inform the public. All there was at GoMA was a poster apologising about the closure from the council, not those responsible for it.
Nothing else for it but to do some drawing in town. Glasgow's a beautiful city full of architecture and statues so it's not a hardship. I drew from one of the lions outside the city chambers (oh, the irony!) but I was dodging rain showers. I have no objection to getting wet, but charcoal on paper doesn't like it. Highlight was a couple of neds who I suspect had been having some sort of argument about what the hell I was doing before plucking up the courage to come and actually see, as one said to the other "see? Ah tellt ye - he's pure drawing the fucking lion 'hing man. That's fucking brilliant so it is", which was touching in a hundred ways.
Rain I can cope with, I drew the line (metaphorically) at hail, so my day of art was brought to an abrupt end. Annoying that all my attempts were so scuppered - couldn't paint at home, couldn't draw at the Kelvingrove, couldn't see the GoMA, and eventually couldn't even draw outside, but hey, there's always beer. Even if it's your third choice of ale in a fairly crappy Whateverspoons* because the first two you asked for were "aff".
* (c) Paul Thompson, 2009
I have a couple of projects on the go at the moment and one other I really need to get cracking on, but the keystone builders next door set up in earnest and 8:30am the plates in the kitchen cupboards were singing in harmony with whatever weapon of mass destruction they were using and it became clear that working in Strawberry Fields wasn't going to be an option, so I decided to go out and about, hopefully taking in the Glasgow Boys exhibition at the Kelvingrove. I prefer to take time off and see these things at quieter times and this seemed like as good an opportunity as any.
So I packed up the sketchbook and headed along to the Kelvingrove, only to be greeted by a picket line, as the Kelvingrove was on strike. I asked why and had a brief political discussion with the woman stood there. I think I suprised her by not agreeing that a pay freeze and a cut down on overtime was grounds to down tools and shut a public service in this day and age, but they're going to have to be prepared for that if they're going to go on strike. I then headed to GoMA in town, but it too was shut for the same reason. At least a few of the strikers at Kelvingrove had actually gone to form a picket and inform the public. All there was at GoMA was a poster apologising about the closure from the council, not those responsible for it.
Nothing else for it but to do some drawing in town. Glasgow's a beautiful city full of architecture and statues so it's not a hardship. I drew from one of the lions outside the city chambers (oh, the irony!) but I was dodging rain showers. I have no objection to getting wet, but charcoal on paper doesn't like it. Highlight was a couple of neds who I suspect had been having some sort of argument about what the hell I was doing before plucking up the courage to come and actually see, as one said to the other "see? Ah tellt ye - he's pure drawing the fucking lion 'hing man. That's fucking brilliant so it is", which was touching in a hundred ways.
Rain I can cope with, I drew the line (metaphorically) at hail, so my day of art was brought to an abrupt end. Annoying that all my attempts were so scuppered - couldn't paint at home, couldn't draw at the Kelvingrove, couldn't see the GoMA, and eventually couldn't even draw outside, but hey, there's always beer. Even if it's your third choice of ale in a fairly crappy Whateverspoons* because the first two you asked for were "aff".
* (c) Paul Thompson, 2009