I’m just back from my writer’s night in King Street, Bristol where the novelists meet.
Before the meeting I went into the spar shop to get some cash for the meter.
Behind me a man said. I’m not gay you know, staring at the girl behind the till.
‘No, I’m paranoid.’ He said, ‘I take tablets.’
He paid for his apple.
‘I’m sorry I’m paranoid,’ he said, It’s because of a girl. She broke my heart.
Looking through old photos taken over the last few years I’ve noticed many of them are paths.
A few weeks ago some friends and I visited the National Trust property, Montacute House in Somerset in a converted ambulance called Bob.
|Alice in Wonderland|
The day was the first hot day of summer, and the sun was high and still. As we walked up to the imposing Elizabethan Mansion an Alice in Wonderland type girl posed for a photo-shoot. Her face was chalk white and she wore a silk peacock gown. The young photographer. behind a very large tripod wore a white cotton dress. They were both yin and yang, presumably students, but both looked as if they’d walked out of a film.
We walked across Montacute’s fabulously romantic grounds, with deep borders of roses and dreamy planting set against formal lawns. Pudding houses with beautiful mosque-like structures stand at the corners of the lawn. This is where diners would retire to eat quince perhaps ? On the other side of the lawns tall old yews are lopped into topiary, bending and twisting in a formal still life.
The place is full of atmosphere,and on a whim I took this photo. When I looked at it at the end of the day I couldn’t make any sense of the shape our shadows made. I am a petite size 10, but look wide. What was my friend holding? What is the hook that appears on my shoulder?
The picture seems to hold significance beyond itself. Interesting to now discover that the house was built for Sir Edward Phelips who gave the opening speech at the prosecution of the trial of Guy Fawkes.
The exterior is imposing and gargoyles and carved statues keep watch over the house.
Inside are some fascinating pieces such as a marriage bed with carvings of women with enormous breasts and bulging thighs. Upstairs the Long gallery stretches the entire length of the house and contains portraits from the National Portrait Gallery which include the ‘eyebrow collection’ and the ‘crossed eye collection’ of princes and kings – crossed eyes to show that the monarchs aren’t to be trusted. It is a house full of echoes and however much the guides talked the place has an eerie feel to it. This is a view from one of the windows.
And this is one of the staircases, where it’s easy to imagine walking down in the heavy petticoats and gowns depicted in the Long Gallery collection. Luckily trusty Bob was waiting for us at the end of the day.