May 20th, 2006

Missing Kitchen

The house has never been this tidy.  

Yesterday I took a long-handled thingy and swept away the cobwebs over the sink.  

The scary Thai puppet  with lots of different faces is no longer hanging from the ceiling in the dark alcove above the cellar stairs.  

Ailz scrolls through properties advertised online in Sheerness, Chatham, Gillingham, Herne Bay. She gives me a running commentary- most of which I screen out. Here's one that that's a real snip. "Oh," she adds. "It doesn't seem to have a kitchen..."  

She digs some more. The missing kitchen is in the cellar. Naaah, I think not, but there are still pages and pages to go.

Rye Harbour

Rye Harbour
Rye Harbour
Rye was a famous port in the middle ages. Then the sea retreated (as it does). The present harbour is situated on a bend of the river Rother, about a mile from town and supports (according to one website) "a significant fishing fleet".

It Isn't Only Suffering That The Old Masters Were Right About

When I'm photographing landscapes I like to expose for the sky. I don't want my clouds all wishy washy. I want them  to dominate the picture.

Which means that my  foregrounds are usually rather dark. 

I was browsing  through my galleries just now and it suddenly hit me  that the Impressionists got it wrong. Nature isn't all red and mauve and green and yellow. In fact She's mostly brown- as in an old master painting. 

Constable, Ruysdael, Poussin are closer  to the appearance of things than Monet or  Van Gogh.

Which isn't at all what the art historians say.