A Winter's Tale (2)

Any bright periods today were meteorological flattery. It was predominantly grey and cold with snow showers. Snow granules were a hindrance as several new images caught my eye at Gunwharf Quays. I like the complex very much - it has grown on me. I am not very keen on shops but the eating opportunities are many (even though we only ate in the Spinnaker Cafe today) and there is a great deal to see both in and from the area. I took some shots I hope to repeat in brighter weather but it will be difficult to return before Christmas and avoid the building crowds.

Ark Royal will make her sad return to Portsmouth on December 3rd but I don't know whether it will be sensible to go near the harbour on either side.

I am not expecting a repeat of January's weather - at least not this time - but I was gratified to see in action the preparedness of Hampshire County Council as they put some of the promised grit bins in place in Lee on the Solent.

The Resting Place of Greats

We left Heathrow in a slow dawn, the light reluctant. I hadn't the spirit to remain in the area in the deep cold and sought instead the comfort of my home. Photography would be limited and was affected later by the brightness of a low sun.

However, in my mind, I have a moving image from the BA maintenance area where B757 G-CPEM and Concorde G-BOAB sandwiched a third aircraft I could not identify whilst driving. The 757 and Concorde were very different stalwarts of British Airways over similar eras and I think I shall miss them both.

London

Rarely these days do I greatly enjoy a trip to London but today was an exception. It was deeply cold but bright and the light held to allow photography to continue later than I had expected. I often feel a sort of mild desperation at this time of year. The season sucks the time from the days as time itself sucks the days from ones life. On a winters day or in life, you sometimes think you might not get everything done. Does anyone want to die with regrets? Anyway, there were no regrets today but there was some sadness.

We left Bexleyheath at our leisure. Hotel service overall had lacked attention to detail. we were compensated with reductions to our bill. Breakfast had been very good. You can't beat a good waffle (as anyone who has ever been to a Conservative Party Conference will tell you). Dipped in fried egg and maple syrup, it may well be the food the gods overlooked when they raved about ambrosia. We crossed the Thames at Dartford to enter London via the startlingly barren eastern approach. The A13 is not much of an advertisement for anything but certainly does make a case for urban regeneration. I was sidetracked by the sight of Dagenham Freightliner depot and got some rather awkward photographs. The buses I saw today were in rather secure compounds. We managed a long drive-by of the Olympic site but that does not easily lend itself to photography. I can not help but wonder what athletes, officials and freeloaders will think as they approach the site unless they are funnelled along very carefully regenerated routes. The eye of the photographer reveals east London and the City to be a very cluttered place for all that it is vibrant. Subjects are not easily captured. It was (almost) a pleasure to drive across London on a Sunday and we parked free very near Tate Britain. We took out a year's membership which I am certain will be repaid as special exhibitions are not cheap.

As a photographer, it is perhaps surprising, maybe even a little depressing that I am not much gripped by the history of the art. We went to Tate Britain for the Muybridge exhibition. We have moved on so far in the barely 150 year history of photography that I did not find very interesting the bulk of his work which was, to be fair, incredibly advanced at the time. I did enjoy the panoramas of San Francisco. Rachel Whiteread's drawings were largely a mystery to me. She should have kept them to herself as I do not believe they add anything to her better known work. I say this with some difficulty because I could neither name nor recognise a sculpture of hers but the drawings ranged from naive to futile.

A more satisfying experience altogether lay in the restaurant. The food was overpriced but indisputably excellent. The 12.5% service charge was impudent but tolerable. A salad of beetroot, watercress and goats cheese was perfect and Greg admired his parsnip soup with white truffle froth. We had very different main courses but received similar satisfaction. My raviolo (it was indeed singular) of butternut squash with black cabbage and pumpkin velouté was flawless whilst Greg's essentially traditional roast beef lunch featured  a generous portion of beautifully cooked meat. Whilst portions were by no means mean it was not solely greed which encouraged a dessert. My sticky toffee pudding had some slightly worrying textures in its fruit but sat well with its caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream. Greg's cheddar was, well, cheddary.

When a day is not gripped by all too common grey cloud, the sun is in fact fairly high still at 2.30 and 3pm. Thus it was in my favour as we visited West Drayton before continuing to the Heathrow Renaissance. My former works place now lies half demolished and soon enough, yet more flats and houses will arise. What their occupants will think of their proximity to the less salubrious areas of West Drayton, I do not know. For today, it was rather sad to stare into the guts of a building where I spent so much time. Barely two miles away in a straight line, the newborn balances the departed. At Heathrow East substantial steelwork is now in place. I hope for a better look tomorrow but I still doubt the entire development will be ready for the Olympics.

A Winters Tale

Outside it is beautifully sunny but extremely cold. The temperature tips it in favour of staying indoors to recover from a pleasant but long night duty - with another ahead. For the night past I had to make no traffic management decisions; the night ahead could be different.

I am intoxicated by the smell of the free car air freshener which came with my new MCR album. There is a sort of new furniture/new car thing going on or perhaps it is just the smell of Gerard Way's leather trousers. My nose is captivated. I am less entranced so far with the album, 'Danger Days; The Trues Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys'. It is a concept album which is easy to understand on Wikipedia and a bit less easy to follow on a first listen but I believe it will grow on me. How could a group follow the masterly 'Black Parade'? Waiting in the wings are, belatedly, 'Plastic Beach' by Gorillaz and, eclectically, 'Dreams', the new album of covers from Neil Diamond. Sometimes, I wish my journey to work were longer but only by, say, one or two tracks.

From that insight into my car CD changer, I take you to my bookshelf and indeed my downstairs toilet. In the latter I am finishing 'The Secret Speech' by Tom Rob Smith. It is the sequel to the remarkable debut  'Child 44' and I can tell you all you need to know by saying I am looking forward to a third offering. Equally excellent but entirely different is Michael Crichton's 'Pirate Latitudes'. Discovered and published after his premature death it is a fast paced tale which defines the epithet 'page turner'. The extraordinary thing about Crichton's books was or is that they are all so different to the extent that there is no genre. Whilst the quality and style remain the same the subject matter is enormously varied. I have read many of his books and never been disappointed.

We need something to drag us psychologically from the descent into winter and Greg, with daily pain from his head, needs it more than I. We have booked a June cruise on an itinerary which has become increasingly attractive to us. Sailing from and to Southampton is appealing in itself as we confirmed earlier this year. A compact but interesting Norwegian itinerary (Stavanger, Flåm, Olden, Bergen) should be ideal. I am looking forward to it very much. In fact I am looking forward to 2011 and, beyond that, 19 November 2014.

Electrical Retailers and Icy Winds

If only because I have written little recently I thought I should compose a few words today but I doubt that the world has missed me. I have been concentrating on my Flickr photostream but even that has not received much input as work and weather stifle creativity. Today, after some other activities, I took more photographs of Bus Rapid Transit where progress is impressive. I cannot imagine working on such a site all day on a day like this. The first part of the afternoon was viciously cold and my hands could not have operated a camera effectively for much longer than they did. This was a disappointing pointer for the weekend when I have a long excursion to London planned for some as yet not very well planned photography. There is only so much one can do outside in this weather. I hope my friends in America on both coasts have something better for Thanksgiving. I do not pray to a regognised god but I was very grateful to return to a warm, clean, home after a delicious and filling lunch. I hope all my readers are thankful for their blessings.

We bought a spare television for my Mum today. There is something electrical retailers have not learned. If they are going to sell you a TV for £200, you don't want some pointless warranty for half that again. You already have your regular consumer rights and if it breaks after that you just buy another one. Still, they only ask half-heartedly now so maybe it is sinking in.

S.A.D

It is many years since I confirmed definitively and through personal experience, the existence of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). This is a difficult time of the year to lift oneself and today was a very good example of a day on which it is difficult to do so.

I wish I could rely more on the BBC weather forecast. The presentations on both news channels and online are ludicrously inaccurate and volatile. On bbc.co.uk the weather is tuned to my postcode and shows supposedly a 72hr forecast. This invariably changes within the 72 hrs displayed at any given moment and frequently within the first 24hrs of that period. What happens in reality is another thing altogether. When a TV forecaster tells you on a Friday night what is going to happen next Friday it is laughable. This is padding in a broadcast which cannot be relied on for even 48hrs; they have absolutely no idea what will happen in one week.

It is not possible then to plan with confidence for activity or inertia. For one who values both personal comfort and photographic opportunities this is a critical deficiency. When the highlight of a day is to brave the weekend crowds at ASDA, it is not a day which will fill much of a page in a diary. Inevitably, the psycho-adrenalin of a wonderful holiday ebbs and the next seems far away. To have the sunshine taken from your life as is almost daily in the monotonous monochrome of northern hemisphere winter is to have slivers pared from your soul. The days are skewed so that if you choose to start slowly the day sweeps by you and, as your spirits lift to something approaching motivation, the dusk of another long night veils hope and happiness.

There are of course indoor activities but I am not inclined to watch TV or even stay online for pointless hours. I should say though that I am grateful for many things; the eternal and comforting presence of my boyfriend, the existence of my very special friends however distant, the privileges of my everyday life and the prospect of the next holiday. So for now I am SADdenned but it will take more than December to extinguish my light.

24 Hours

Like a scene from a Harry Potter movie, the night's mist wrapped itself around familiar scenery and dreamt of being fog. By morning, its dream had come true. The night saw very little rest as we ensured that a TMA cloaked in autumn was a safe place to fly and land. I had written to-do lists for both nights and felt apprehensive about my workload but the dawn saw only one item remaining to be done. The second night would be far more comfortable.

Even on a busy night there is time to dip into Flickr. My stats are fascinating (to me). What people will view is quite unpredictable. My work has now been viewed more than 19,000 times which indicates a modest level of internet fame but the web remains a scary place. I often wonder why people have viewed some images and from where. There are hidden depths in the title 'Unknown Source'. My recent entirely documentary photograph of a Nissan Cube has attracted an inexplicable number of views whilst my more recent 'Poppies' - (The Luminescence of Those Remembered) has made a slow start. There is still more work undone and missed. There were three opportunities with various subjects missed before Monday's unexpected chance to photograph fire engines (for contacts more than myself). One missed opportunity I particularly regret as it can recur, if at all, only on Remembrance Sunday.

In the morning autumn frost and fog were a stark vanguard of a winter which might again be harsh. I paused to take some workplace pictures and spray the car. On the other side of a partially restorative sleep bright sunshine made my area a very pleasant place to be for lunch. True, the fog clung late to the Solent but succumbed in the couple of hours we were out. Monk's Hill shone in more photographs and the sun lulled me into my second sleep which would last into the inevitable early darkness which marks this time of year.

PS 'Miranda' - new series - Brilliant

Horse Play

"Horse Play" (or, "Released on Bale" or, again, "Graze Elegy")

Horse #1: 'Morning'

Horse #2: 'Morning'

Horse #1: 'Been doing much?'

Horse #2: 'Grazing'

Horse #1: 'Me too, grazing'

Horse #2: 'Humans came yesterday...'

Horse #1: (feigning interest) 'Oh yes?'

Horse #2: '.......put this coat on me'

Horse #1: 'Supposed to keep us warm'

Horse #2: 'I don't like the colour. It isn't really 'me''

Horse #2: 'They left hay too.....'

Horse #1: 'Makes a change from grass'

Horse #2: (miserably) 'It doesn't last very long'

Horse #1: 'Funny things, humans'

Horse #2: 'Yeah'

Horse #1: 'Sometimes......'

Horse #1: '........when I see them coming, I have a little canter around. It makes them smile'

Horse #1: 'Sometimes they take a photograph'

Horse #1: 'Frankly though I'd rather be over in that corner with Imelda'

Horse #1: 'Nuzzling.......'

Horse #2: 'I know......'

Horse #2: (wistfully) 'Can't say I blame you. You're lucky you saw her first'

Horse #1: (smiling) 'Yeah, you should come over, have a chat'

Horse #2: (after a pause) 'Oh, thanks......I will'

Horse #2: 'Ah well, back to the hay, (miserably again).........while it lasts'

Horse #1: 'Yeah'

(Both pause awkwardly)

Horse #2: 'What do you reckon for tomorrow then?'

Horse #2: (hopefully) 'More hay?'

Horse #1: 'Nah. Not for a while'

Horse #2: (sighing) 'More grazing then.......'

Horse #1: (walking slowly away) 'Yeah, more grazing'

(Both lower heads, backs to each other and ....... graze)

Back On Planet Earth

The rain and wind had gone. It was still very cold but the sunshine made it a beautiful day. I photographed Bus Rapid Transit again and recorded recent progress. It was very evident that fuel prices have gone up in our absence presumably due to a combination of the most recent application of the fuel escalator, the government's not very well hidden method of collecting even more VAT, and the usual exploitation of such events by both oil companies and retailers. During the holiday, a much greater personal tragedy had transpired. My tax disc holder had finally lost its adhesion and for more than 24hrs I ran the huge risk of not displaying it properly in a country where many people care deeply about such things. Imagine my delight when I was able to replace it with Halford's VALUE disc holder at only £1.99 (a piece of plastic worth perhaps as much as 10p) so that I did not need to spend over £10 on something magnetic with a logo which only the passenger will ever see.

At work - an extra attendance to avoid being overwhelmed by admin tomorrow - the lunch was Wild Boer (sic) sausages. Given that the chef is a (very amiable) South African I could only speculate during mastication as to the contents. I thought it best to skip the Jamaican Ginger Cake. Before I left, I photographed the beautiful grounds at Swanwick which I hope to capture at different times of the year.

On television, or at least on HDD, we have been catching up with, primarily, comedy and panel shows. The Armstrong and Miller Show is absolutely excellent surpassing the previous series. I also have a developing enjoyment of A League of Their Own. Although I have no instinctive liking for James Corden, I think he is very good in this role. Perhaps the winter will be warmer than expected.

In Limbo With A Smile

It was naturally rather emotional leaving Palm Springs yesterday after a very enjoyable holiday but we have the enormous good fortune (for which I am very grateful) to be able to return in March. On that trip we shall spend some more time in San Diego. There was in fact quite a lot of cloud as we made our way out of the desert. We later learned that it had deposited heavy rain on our friends who had left earlier. As we approached Los Angeles, however, it developed into a lovely day. I had decided to leave PS a little earlier than originally planned in order to be able to stop at the Proud Bird. I have passed it many times but usually under pressure to return our rental car. Today, a very smooth drive to LA on the decaying I10 left us with plenty of time for lunch at the restaurant and for me to photograph the exhibits. It is also a great place to take approach shots with ground/air exposures as easy as they get although I need more practice. The icing on the cake was some wrecks in a back lot.

Service at Hertz was in marked contrast to our arrival experience. We were offered a ride to the airport in our rental car instead of the shuttle. It was innovative customer service and very relaxing. Check in at BA was very cheery and there is no longer any need to take luggage separately to TSA. There was absolutely no queue at security and the personnel were noticeably more courteous. The lounge was the usual haven and I got a lot done during the wait. Departure was a bit late after delayed boarding but the flight time seemed likely to get us in on time. Service on board was fairly attentive and I got plenty of sleep. Ten minutes or so of holding at BNN was mitigated by a very smooth passage through T5. IRIS worked to spec. and baggage was delivered quickly. A short walk to and through the car park brought us back to our car and into the stark weather. This was not Palm Springs. It was cold, wet and windy and grew dark early. Our cleaner had left the house in good order and the post contained no surprises. ASDA featured seasonal goods - de-icer and screenwash.

The Holiday Draws To A Close

Yesterday we went to the exhibition park of Palm Springs Gay Pride. It was dull and parochial and we left quickly. A friend described it as 'lame'. The rest of the day was about ill-advised overeating. We had lunch at Las Casuelas, a Mexican restaurant and somewhat of a Palm Springs institution. The place has a considerable capacity. We were seated quickly, served charmingly and quickly and the food was good. We went to nearby Cold Stone for ice cream which was delicious and completely unnecessary. We did all this in spite of having dinner booked at Wangs In The Desert at the not particularly late hour of 7.45. We arrived early to a busy restaurant but were seated immediately. The main impression was one of massive and intrusive noise. It was only conversations but made ones own virtually impossible. Service was remarkably efficient, attentive and accurate. Wangs serves mixed oriental rather than strictly speaking Chinese. The food was good but many elements were essentially unremarkable. Coconut shrimp could have been much more exciting and its accompanying 'aioli' was pink gloop. Once again defeated by quantity we left without dessert.

Today, Sunday, was bound to involve an undercurrent of regret and tension as it was our last day in the desert this time. We thought we might go to the aerial tramway with our friends but had agreed to go to the start point of the Palm Springs Gay Pride Parade first. A strong sun, whose effect was magnified by the clock change, needed to be periodically avoided by ducking in and out of available shadow. Quite unlike the park yesterday the parade was vibrant and very well organised. Various types of police were in attendance and others participated. Roads were re-opened swiftly and it was all very enjoyable. Our interest went on late enough to make it pointless to go up the mountain. Crowds would obviously linger in Palm Springs so we walked back to the hotel and then drove to Rancho Mirage for The Cheesecake Factory whose vast menu is not at all reflected in its name. Food there is very good but portions are, frankly, ridiculously large and even Americans think so. Service was once again excellent. It remained only to allow the afternoon and evening to drift away before printing our boarding passes. Strong winds should see us cross the Atlantic in plenty of time for 30mins holding at BNN.

Tormé's Restaurant, Palm Springs

As we have guests for the weekend, we have a series of meals planned and, with PS Gay Pride this weekend, the bookings to go with them. There was never going to be a problem then getting a seat at Tormé's, 360 N Palm Canyon Drive. I should have been more alert when Greg pointed out that the customer nearest the entrance on the outside patio was smoking and eating at the same time. She was eating meatloaf (which I do not dislike in a proper setting) and perhaps needed a cigarette to heighten her gourmet experience. I suspect that the meatloaf and chicken pot pie might have been on the menu for the people who could not afford the other items. The greeter was superficially decorative (if you like women teetering on heels entirely inappropriate for a night's work or at least work which involves walking around as opposed to, say, lying down) but essentially irrelevant as her primary role seemed to be to walk one inside to greeter #2 who had the table plan. She evidently could not visualise the four letter surname in which we had booked (mine) so led us mutely to her colleague.

I should have been considerably more alert when the waitress asked me if I wanted my pork chop medum or well cooked. I explained with only a modicum of sharpness that anything other than well cooked pork would probably see me hospitalised. Having already trodden on a cactus I could see no reason to add to my adventures for the sake of two extra minutes in the kitchen. It is perhaps hard to believe then that, when it arrived, my chop was indeed underdone, visibly pink even in the low restaurant light. I was provided with another by an apologetic chef. Neither plate had the roast potatoes I had ordered but then this was a waitress who thought I had said 'ice cream' when I ordered lemon and white chocolate cake - the one dessert item they did not have. Although the food including that of my three companions was good there was too much distraction and irritation throughout the evening. We (all four) had enquired to no real satisfactory answer as to the size of the salads, intending them as starters. We were told 'large' and that they could not be split but could be shared. We ordered two and they arrived plated as four as though splitting were in fact the easiest thing in the world. My companions' Cioppino and Rosemary Garlic Roast Chicken were fine. Mac & Cheese was tasty but the pasta was not macaroni, more like conchigliette - a detail, but you expect what you see on the menu unless told otherwise.

The recently opened restaurant appears inviting and subtly decorated but any ambience is undermined by the visible lack of cohesion amongst the staff. The venue is billed as a jazz restaurant; the music when it started was loud as much as it was live and this is not always a comfortable experience when eating. With a promising menu in place and a prime downtown location Tormé's should thrive but there is a lot of work to be done yet to ensure repeat custom.

http://www.tormespalmsprings.com/

A Visit Marred, A Spirit Scarred

Legal Questions and Philosophical Matters

My visit to Palm Springs Art Museum was as delightful as today's was crushing to the spirit. I had returned with Greg to immerse ourselves in what is, even after this morning's setback, a cultural oasis. It became clear that the photography policy is not as straightforward as had seemed to be the case. Today, restrictions which were not apparent on my earlier visit, were placed upon me. I cannot say much about museum policy which is already more liberal than many but I was greatly worried that photographs I had taken on Wednesday and posted innocently might now contravene their regulations. This is no trivial matter in a nation which thrives on litigation. It was impossible to get a clear answer on my visit and I await a reply to an e-mail as it was suggested I write. Since my original alarm I am somewhat placated to see that there already more than 1000 images on Flickr alone.

Whilst I entirely respect the copyright of the artist I feel deeply conflicted. In any portrayal of a work of art, I always detail that work and fully attribute the artist. In creating an image of my own I am creating a new work rather than infringing a copyright. This is very much the case in the light of my preferred techniques. I am acutely conscious that it is difficult, to say the least, to be original in photography especially where a subject is seen in real life by many thousands or even millions of people. Often then, I strive to create a new viewpoint or unusual composition. I love close-ups, tight crops and the use of objects as frames. In a sculpture garden for instance, it is possible to frame a work with part of another. I feel entitled to create these new images as my own and, with proper credit to the original artist(s), why should I not? Copyright is a sensitive issue but all too often it seems to serve only to protect and maximise the income stream of an artist. They don't mind selling postcards and $200 books but, publicly, will protest art over money. I make no money from my creations nor do I, at this stage, want to. I enjoy recognition as of greater value.

I felt criminalised from even the inadvertent risk of copyright infringement and creatively oppressed from the (widespread) enforcement of related rules.

San Diego

The last of the day's sun splashed red-brown across the mountains to the north of Palm Springs and the windmills turned lazily in a slight evening breeze. We neared the end of a wearying journey back from San Diego which now lay far to the south. If one were to look up 'pleasant' in a thesaurus, it would probably list as synonyms both 'San Diego' and 'Coronado' although this is perhaps to understate their attractions.

We have been before and wanted to return but our visit of today was rather formless until our arrival and the limitations of a pressing temperature guided our movements. One hundred and fifty miles of third world driving on second world roads. There is neither caution nor courtesy in American driving - certainly not in California - and that state's fiscal predicament has left the roads in need of care. Stimulus money, with the logic of some perverse mind, can be spent only on building what is not needed whilst necessary repairs go undone. It is surprising that neither panic nor paralysis has gripped California. Perhaps the debt is simply too large to grasp. The recession is visible in many ways but a parody of conspicuous consumerism has replaced the genuine original. This region, waiting it appears for seismological ruin may first succumb to severe financial tremors as a social edifice built on foundations of an ill-advised mix of self-belief and complacency slides not into the Pacific à la '2012' but into another kind of turmoil.

For now though, the very beautiful city of San Diego sits demurely by the ocean and charms its visitors. I thought it strange at a time of such constraint that the tolls should have been removed from the Coronado Bridge. Perhaps it is simply uneconomical to collect them. I had had grand plans but as the temperature climbed mercilessly above 30/90 it was clear that extensive walking would result only in hospitalisation. We went on the USS Midway Museum. The aircraft exhibits are excellent but staying unprotected in the sun long enough to photograph them was hazardous. The conditions inadvertently added a little atmosphere to the visit. Not long before decommissioning in San Diego, Midway was the air operations flagship in Desert Storm. Today, the deck threw heat into our faces. The Gulf knows much higher temperatures; it is impossible to imagine working on a carrier in such conditions, in protective clothing and in combat.

There is so much to see in and around San Diego and so little covered and photographed today that we are likely to convert part of our April holiday to a further visit. With a little luck the Padres will be at home in opening week.

Solo and Savoury

For those waiting for something a bit more salacious, those who imagine an Inndulge far removed from the rather sedate reality, I can only say I am immersed in nothing more seamy then culture and climate. The most stimulated part of my body after my brain is my shutter finger. The temperatures, I think, even for here, have been high for the time of year. This requires care outside and limits ones stamina; well, mine anyway. We did the laundry and went to Michael's to buy an item for a cousin.

I had some photographic ideas around the area and left Greg at the resort whilst I drove to fulfil them. My first destination was Desert Memorial Park, resting place of Frank Sinatra amongst others. I have been before but it was not at all as I remembered it quite apart from having, presumably, more occupants. I could have sworn that some markers had standing stones but today there was none so I had to consult the office to find Francis Albert. I also enjoyed the Veteran's Chapel and associated memorials. It is a beautiful cemetery but a bit bare on a Wednesday when flowers are removed and the grounds tended.

From there I drove to the airport intending to revisit the Air Museum but lingering instead in the present day and near the Atlantic ramp for its biz-jets. There was again no sign of imminent arrest or indeed being shot. I though this just as well; if a tetanus jab costs $160, I imagine treating a bullet wound could be quite expensive. However, photography can be difficult because of the available angles and the sun. I found a gem in the form of The Loft Airport Cafe where I ate lunch early in the form of an excellent Asian salad. In the event, with the temperature probably touching 30 again, I drove past the Museum and on to another, the Palm Springs Art Museum. I was there to see a specific piece by Antony Gormley

Apart X, 2002 Antony Gormley

but the excellent collection had much more in addition to offer. I was conscious of being there without Greg and of the need to return with him espcially to the Richard Avedon exhibition. His work left me perplexed. My regular readers will both know that I am no fan of b&w and this did not make me one. I could clearly see the technical brilliance of many of the pictures but the point of none. They were for all their clarity just portraits and very few for me captured a person or their moment as presumably intended.

You might think I have no soul but you should know me better. I had soul enough to be shocked by 'Ryuanji', a cast bronze of 2006 by Deborah Butterfield. I don't really want to get involved with lawyers but I can only say that the resemblance to the works at Torre Abbey by Heather Jansch which I viewed on 12 July this year was striking. I should say that Ms. Butterfield's work appears to be the earlier. It appears that both artists use similar techniques and it can be little surprise that both, as artists, are drawn to horses. Perhaps this indicates that many works in many genres are necessarily and inevitably derivative solely because of the limitations of being human.

We shall probably visit the museum on Friday after tomorrow's excursion to the beautiful city of San Diego.

An Unexpected Clash With A Cactus

Today, on the recommendation of Inndulge owner, John we drove south to Borrego Springs a straightforward but fairly long drive with a number of options for the return journey. Many of the scenes to our left as we drove parallel to the edge of the Salton Sea could (at least from that distance) have been the Mediterranean. The desert is ceaselessly fascinating. On the one hand good quality and fairly busy roads; on the other and only yards away, harsh and unpredictable land baked in merciless heat even on this early November day when it reached 91^oF (32^oC).

The Borrego Springs Visitor Bureau was a welcoming place and furnished us with a map which showed the locations of the Ricardo Breceda sculptures which are now in my photostream at www.flickr.com/photos/johnoram . It was an exciting business tracking them down in their field placings and it was already becoming clear that it would be too much to find and photograph them all under an intense sun and its painfully bright light when I had my accident.


Accidents by their nature happen in a moment and I was quite shocked, as I photographed the Jeep sculpture, mindful of snakes but not expecting to tread on a cactus. With no warning its vicious bundle of spines penetrated all parts of my trainer's sole and, in several places, my foot. Out of earshot of Greg in the car and out of his line of sight, I then found the problem with this kind of plant enemy. It is too spiny to easily remove with your fingers and when you try, it sticks to or even penetrates your hands. I had the Jeep to lean on and  gingerly removed the shoe with only a handkerchief to protect my hand and the sole looking a bit like a porcupine. I limped back to the car avoiding the spiny relatives of my assailant and we started picking at my foot, my sock, my handkerchief and shoe.


On arrival in Borrego Springs I had noticed directions to the Fire Station and went there for paramedic advice and for assistance in removing spines from my sole which required protection and a tool. They were very persistent. The firefighters who do not see many cactus stricken British tourists in their part of California, two hours drive from a major hospital (San Diego or Palm Springs) were very helpful and hospitable. With my shoe restored and advice to get a tetanus shot, I stayed for a chat and to photograph their vehicles - also now on Flickr.

Friendly people must be the norm in Borrego Springs. We were getting very hungry after the loss of time and drove down to Carlee's at 660 Palm Canyon Drive. There was an exceptionally large menu for a town with a population of around 3000 and several other restaurants. The food was excellent and served in a friendly and charming way. We had considered a mountain drive back to the Coachella Valley but my incident and the rising heat rather took the wind out of my sails. With a wish to reach Desert Regional Medical Center during normal hours, we opted for the safe return route the way we had come on S22, 86S and I10.

Visting the ER (Richards Center) was an educational experience. It was not busy but any waiting is managed a bit like Disney. There is always someone to see, somewhere to move to from initial clerking to receiving my injection. Treatment was very efficient and professional but comes at a cost. Without even seeing a doctor I paid $160 for the jab. I left with a prescription for prophylactic antibiotics to fill in town and that cost another $11.99. The price of peace of mind and relief that it did not happen somewhere without excellent medical care.

Railway Photography and A New Suitcase

The railway photography in Trains magazine (US) and especially in its Locomotive 2010 special is unrivalled. It astonishes me that, in a country where freight dominates passenger traffic and people do not generally travel distances by rail, there is such a flourishing enthusiast movement. To combine the hobbies of railways and photography has supposedly been occasionally difficult after 9/11 although I am not aware of any specific threat outside the aviation world in that time. In my vacation area there is substantial east and west movement of often huge freight trains. They are so long it is hard to imagine anywhere big enough to put them together or indeed separate the wagons at their destinations. Before today and right up to this morning, I had visualised several locations (for photography) but only at lunchtime captured my first very satisfying image outside LA Union station and (many years ago) South Florida. I was very pleased and the more so for having done this in plain sight of a Sheriff's car without being challenged or even perhaps shot. The intense bright light of the desert requires some care in using largely automatic cameras so I was pleased too with my later shots of a cactus.

I have often remarked that good pictures can be produced only with inspiration and so, even here, a lot around me goes unrecorded. We had been to Cabazon for the outlets and I found its dinosaurs completely uninspiring so they remain in the I-10 hinterland and in other photostreams but not mine. My visit to Casino Morongo was rather startling when it took considerably less time to spend $20 on a machine than $11.09 on my Panda Express lunch. With a new suitcase in the boot (trunk) we headed back to Palm Springs. Now it remains only to see whether the handle or wheels will be damaged first and whether LAX or LHR has the winning team.

Halloween at Inndulge

Social events are rather traumatising for me and I usually avoid them to the extent I am no longer expected to appear. There are many layered reasons for my discomfort none of which has anything much to do with the other people there, who are often be friends and colleagues with whom I can interact comfortably in other settings. I am not going to go into it but you can, if you wish, psychoanalyse me privately. It is perhaps surprising then that we actually choose to be at Inndulge for Halloween (not that we have to attend the party and not everyone does). Given in addition to the facts above, my natural aversion to drag or indeed dressing up at all, it is probably even more surprising.

The fact is the owners and their staff put an enormous amount of effort into organising events throughout the year including Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year as well as Halloween. Most of the guests as well as the owners and staff have great fun by the pool as participants or judges in the costume competition. To take a group of 20-30 to a restaurant is a challenge for both organisers and hosts. I felt some apprehension after a service meltdown on a previous occasion when, I recall, I might have briefly have become Michael Winner.

Trio at 707 N Palm Canyon Drive did not let us down. After a bit of a wait for our tables, service by a hoard of waiters, many of them main dishes in themselves, was very organised. We ate from a pre-selected menu and, in spite of my fears, plates were, as far as I could see, delivered correctly all round and certainly in a very timely fashion. A simple Caesar salad was very fresh. My pork chop was excellent and Greg's chicken too although our respective beds of mash may have been plated a little too soon to retain as much warmth as might have been ideal. Key Lime Pie was delicious but did not gain anything from a raspberry coulis. We would go again on a regular evening.

As we were still suffering from jetlag it was a tiring evening but very enjoyable, Thank you John and Jean-Guy.

Photos are on Facebook.

New On The Shelves

Anathema though shopping is to me I cannot help but notice new things when I am in shops. When there is a recession as indeed there is visibly in Palm Springs and, presumably, the wider US, it must be difficult to stimulate the economy through the consumer. After so many years of human existence, it must be difficult to come up with anything new at all so I admire enterprise even in the form of things I would not buy. Soon after our arrival, I noticed Starbucks branded ice cream in flavours which will be familiar if you frequent the eponymous coffee house. These were in California supermarket Ralphs and, lo and behold, only aisles away, were non-frozen branded offerings in the beverage aisle.

More attractive to the tea drinker if not the lover of  traditional books is 'Nook' by Barnes & Noble. From a purely technological point of view, I was interested but I cannot imagine a time when I would surrender the tactile experience of reading a real book for this or any other e-book. It is attractive, keenly priced and comes in several variants but what would my house look like without the 1500 volumes it can replace? One of the selling points is, apparently, the download price which brings me neatly to my next discourse.

Book prices are and have for a long while been largely arbitrary. When does any hardcover or paperback, certainly any popular title, sell for its cover price? A Nook download costs, apparently, typically 50% of the book price but only feet away from the Nook display at B&N were new hardcovers at 40% discount to members. What concerns me far more here and elsewhere is the morally unsound misuse of the adjective 'new' as in 'new in paperback'. It is common now for this to mean no more than 'new jacket/cover' on a very old novel. I am certain that this designed to confuse and sure that many fans of serial authors have rushed into a purchase without checking back mentally or otherwise through their 'read' list.

Today in the desert was everything the UK is not this time of year. Not to appear ungrateful, I would say that acclimatisation is the problem which follows on and overlaps jetlag. I love the desert heat but after weeks of much lower temperatures at home it takes some getting used to. We had lunch at Baja Fresh, the thinking man's answer to Taco Bell (with mango salsa) and went home to rest. The only disappointment was that the Martha Stewart Holly Punch has not yet been delivered.