pete mcgovern

 

 

 A long, long time ago when I spent some time in Ireland one summer, based in a church in Rochfortbridge, we'd travel a bit on our trail bikes exploring the lush countryside. I'd lump a big RB67 medium format camera around with me and, very occasionally, take a photograph of a washing line whenever it was set in a nice view. I liked the idea of something so mundane set in the rolling fields or hills. Doing this was always a bit fraught as you can be sure no-one particularly wants a biker pulling up and taking photos of their washing hanging out to dry. But as it turned out no clothes props or expletives were ever aimed in my direction. That was what turned out to be my last post-photography-course little project idea for what was to be half a lifetime. Then I really got started. Travelling around the Scottish coast recently I found it impossible not to take a few washing lines in the landscape pictures. And, in this case, never have washing lines been so conspicuously publicly

So careful in its carelessness.

Eardley lived in the end cottage, which is now a swish holiday home. The watchie where she worked is along the clifftop on the other side of the bay and has a boxy wooden lean-to with large windows which artists still use to this day. The narrow path to get across to it is precarious, with a steep hillside offering a tumble of a hundred feet down to the rocky shore below for a misplaced step or two.

The nearer I got to Catterline the more I saw the landscape the way Joan Eardley painted it.

I take so long when taking a picture that sometimes living things appear in the frame.

 When the place names have been forgotten there will still be the colours.

Sunburned in St Andews yesterday. Beautiful wide beaches with white sand and an azure sea, distant hills further north just visible across the bay, classy historic academic city with scholarly indie bookshops - and, most important, a super-tasty hand-made wrap at the Student Union cafe in the middle of town, students practicing lacrosse in the High Street. I like it. MP3 player failed, all files lost. Agghhhhhhhh. Finding a few key songs on youtube in a garden centre cafe someplace beginning with the letter D near Perth while splashing work laptop with chilli bean soup.  (Herb scone to follow. Key information.) In Moffat on Monday resisted (just) buying a small abstracy metalwork sculpture of a couple dancing hand in hand; graceful flowing shapes made with thin steel rod spotted with drips of solder, super romantic thing. Taking some pictures of stuff but can't find cable at mo.  Will add later maybe. Thanks for looking. x x x