Connections

I’m reading a good book by Joanne Harris at the moment, ‘A Pocketful of Crows’, which is a bit of a modern fairytale, and right up my (escapist) street. I was thinking about it today as I walked the dog at Quarry Moor, listening to Fairport Convention. I realised that it reminded me of Reynardine, a traditional folk ballad, or rather, Reynardine reminded me of the book, when it started playing.

I have just bought (unusual for me), a new album; Freedom Highway, by Rhiannon Giddons, which is a fabulous jazzy, folky, bluesy album. There’s a song on it called Birmingham Sunday. It’s a very moving song about the 1963 ku klux klan bombing of a baptist church that killed 4 teenage girls in Birmingham, Alabama. Yes, that’s the same kkk that endorse Trump, and who he has refused to condemn. Anyway, when I listened to this song I recognised the melody ( and I can’t overstate what an achievement that is for me), as being the same as another favourite folk song of mine, The False Bride (great Fairport version).
Driving over to Harrogate this morning, to take some paintings to Silson Contrmpoaray (great gallery - you should go), I was alternatively thinking about  painting, and trying to remember the word that describes creatures that are active during twilight. It wouldn’t come. After delivering the paintings, walking with Hector at Quarry Moor, and a lovely lunch with my lovely in-laws, I drove home. It was getting on in the afternoon, and the sun was starting to wipe its feet before retiring for the evening, hiding behind a bank of cloud,  sending out rays of light through them. As I saw that, I remembered the word - crepuscular ( light beams through late afternoon clouds is called crepuscular light). It would work as a title for this painting I suppose, except it would be s bit pompous. Plus it’s a horrible sounding word to my ear. It’s sounds like it ought to describe a scabby boil.
Anyway, ramble over.
I painted when I got home... but not this one.

Oil on board
30 x 30cm