Busy Tuesday, Art, Georgia and Kids.

I watched, from a safe distance, as they prepared the 'Open Art' exhibition at the museum this morning. As part of what they refer to as 'Community Involvement,' using that meaningless word 'Community,' we do this each year. The art is often local amateurs although some folks make good money from this type of event.  Last year some of it as always made no sense and still other items were excellent and deserved a good sale.  I mention this as I had come across this story in the 'Daily Mail,' this morning. What Tracey Emin called her 'confessional self portrait' is being sold by owner Charles Satchi and is expected to go for around £1.2 million.  Satchi of course is renown for spending squllions of pounds on modern art.  As I looked at the art being piled together awaiting hanging I compared it to Emin's efforts and noted once again how false the art world is.  Art at the expensive end is not based on talent but on what sells.  All sorts of muck can masquerade as 'art,' if the 'artist' places it before a dumb enough 'desperate to be accepted by the chattering classes' rich guy.  Russian friends of that nice Mr Putin appear keen to put their (well, Russia's) money into art and will pay millions for anything that is modern and available. To expect them to actually appreciate art may be filling the wrong samovar.  Her money grasping friend Damien Hurst I note has gold plated, well his staff have gold plated, a skeleton of a dead beastie, canny mind what, which will grace the art world and make trillions from some mindless sap with too much off other folks cash to launder.  This is not art, this is taking sweeties from babies.

Now I accept that what I call art and what you call art are different.  We are different people, our cultures are different, our backgrounds vary, our life experience cannot be the same and this means we see what is presented as 'art' through our own eyes.  I accept that a mess on a wall might be an expression of an artists emotions, however the stuff I drew at school, all abstract and going nowhere, might have been an expression of my inner soul, but it may possibly be that I am just unbalanced. Quiet at the back!  Anyway one was placed on the school wall, so the teacher either liked it, appreciated my effort or fancied me.  He certainly fancied that curly haired teacher in the class next door.  The janitor probably dumped my esteemed artwork in the bin later.  Had I been less scrupulous and more determined to alter the world through art I might have been rich!   

Anyway I blame Thatcher!  It was her idea of closing all the psychiatric hospitals to save a few pennies that allowed all these 'artists' to walk the streets when they could be inside out of harms way getting the treatment they desperately require.

In a month or two the Tour de France takes its usual deviation out of France and passes close to the town.  Two miles up the road preparations are under way for the mass influx of people who will venture out to watch the bikes flash past at thirty miles an hour and disappear over the bridge and never be seen again.  That's it! Up here they will not race just stick together as they cover the miles, sorry kilometers!  It is later, down near London itself, that the action hots up. Here we will see little and to find a spot to observe this will be very difficult. However the kids today were entranced by making masks featuring bikes, and good masks they were too.  The kids were pleased with their efforts and mum was happy as it was free plus by escaping out the back door they avoided the kids entering the shop and spending their cash. Bah!

  

We had several visitors, Gran and Granddads bringing kids dumped on them for the day, others reminiscing about their local past and a couple from Georgia who know Stone Mountain.  All these it must be said paid only the concession rate!  Most were cheery but one attempted to question why Scotland should be independent, even being silly enough to believe the papers that 'England pays for Scotland.'  I soon put him right on that.  The English cannot conceive Scots attitudes.  To them we are all the same but they have not been treated as second class.  This area of course is far from Scotland and very much a backwater in some respects.  Scotland could be Greenland as far as some here know, but money is important to them and the feeling that they pay for Scots benefits hurts, even though it is a lie!  

The Georgia couple were not very friendly.  Usually the Americans come to see their ancestors or the old airfields they were once based.  I am not sure what this couple wanted but he was very offhand.  She did the buying postcards bit and I managed to force a book on her suggest a suitable book of old photos that might help.  The house they believe their ancestor lived in they had identified and that pleased them but I refrained from suggesting a walk round the cemetery to find a suitable grave as the weather is dreich and he might have suggested putting me there.  He's an American so probably was carrying a gun! Still I got just over £10 out of them but wish I could have cheered them up somewhat.  Possibly the weather pout them off, possibly tiredness possibly the town itself.  The town is not the greatest place to visit in the rain or even in the sunshine! At least I know one Georgian lass who would enjoy it here whatever the weather.  

  

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A Painter called Goodwin

Holyrood 

'Holyrood' by Albert Goodwin caught my attention this morning.  A striking, though somewhat dramatic, impression of the area at the foot of the Royal Mile.  The bright red uniforms of the Guards lit by a gas lamp, a few bright spots in the windows, an umbrella, and the typical Edinburgh rain with just a touch of light in the sky show that he painting this during the height of summer!  Poetic licence allows for an image the camera cannot catch but this is not harming anything.  There were enough photographs indicting the terrible housing conditions round the corner from Holyrood to show life was not good for the lower orders at this time.  The rain however, remains constant!

 Westminster

Albert Goodwin was born in Maidstone in the year 1845, the same year my grandfather chose to be born.  He was born on a farm on the border while Albert arrived in a builders home, one of nine children!  It has been said that photographs from the Victorian age contain many children, while in the present time they contain many older people.  Large Victorian families died out after the second world war, better wealth, better health, and better control helped.  I need not point out that my mother often referred to me as an 'accident,' without explaining why.  How many young men are called 'Albert' these days?  By marrying Victoria and becoming the queen's consort Albert gave his name to the nation paying his way.  Male children called 'Albert' did abound, as did 'Albert Road,' 'Albert Street,' 'Albert Terrace,' and a few 'Albert' pubs no doubt.  I could go on but I will generously spare you that.  Now our Albert was talented, especially in water colours which he made his specialisation, so talented that the 'Pre-Raphaelite' Ford Madox Brown among others took him under his wing when young and while he was only fifteen years of age Goodwin had one picture on show at the Royal Academy.  John Ruskin the famous man of letters, I am a man of letters also, mostly begging, Ruskin took him across Europe where he sketched and drew later turning the results into many pictures.  His paintings did have a 'Turner' like effect, at least they made an impression on me, and his landscapes delight at every turn.  Ruskin was a man who encouraged the Turner influence.  he wished Goodwin and all to paint 'beauty,' which meant the uglier side of life was ignored. 'Beauty' was supposed to lift the individual, which indeed it does, but so does a proper wage and a home with heat!

Whitby

Allowing for that artistic licence, which is another way of saying artists cheat, there is a great deal of history in the pictures.  'Westminster' for instance reveals how close the docks were to parliament.  What is now Victoria Park was at that time home to many boats, possibly their maintenance was involved although it might well be goods were transshipped even here.  The lighters, sails, and occasional figure offer a peaceful 'end of day' appearance.  This would be gladly welcomed by those working the boats as their day had started by six and was probably ending more than twelve hours later.  On top of this that artist fellow keeps shouting, "keep the boat still will you?"  The angle from which he paints the ruins at Whitby, the inspiration for 'Dracula' as you know, enables the artist to avoid all those horrid dwellings with the people in them.  

Nile Sunset

Albert Goodwin passed away in 1932 after a life travelling the world painting pictures which he hoped would show God's beauty in the world around us.  Ruskin's influence taught him the importance of drawing as well as colour, Turner and Pre-Raphaelite taught him beauty but in the end he was himself, doing what he thought right.  Historical facets can be gleamed in the many pictures he painted, around 800 in all, but it is a pity he did not show more reality of the world around.  

Why Alfred Goodwin Matters    Albert Goodwin Information & pictures    Albert Goodwin Wiki

Monday Muse

George Osborne the Chancellor of the Exchequer gave his speech today at the Conservative Party Conference and earned 'luke war applause,'  according to one Rosa Prince, the Telegraph 'Online Political Editor,' whatever that is!  "What did he say?" I hear you ask.  I neither know nor care.  In fact whatever was to follow here is now rapidly going the same way I did while listening to said Chancellor lying in his teeth discussing his policies on the 'Today' programme this morning.  I switched off then, I think I will do so now.  Suffice to say his friends will be OK, and the 'plebs' will carry the can, they always do.

This is a painting by one Mark Rothko, a famous, important, abstract painter whom you have never heard off until now.  This 'work of art' was 'vandalised' by a chap who added a postcript at the bottom.  What surprised me concerning this news was the price, this 'art work' is valued at £10 million!  "Jings! Crivvens! And Help ma Boab!"  I used to do abstract art at school but at no time did the art teacher put down the geography teacher from next door long enough to inform me that my 'work' was worth 'millions.'  He did place one on the lobby wall certainly but I am unsure whether he sent it to a gallery after I left or used it as dart board.  I can guess....  The art world, and indeed the fashion world, are one big con!  An understanding and appreciation of art is not required, just lots of money if you wish to be seen buying the 'right thing,' and a huge determination to be seen and find fame and fortune if you are an 'artist.  Talent is not required.

I attempted the Carrot Cake today and I am mightily surprised by the result.  It may never sell in the local national bakers but it will be good enough for me.  Quite why she calls these carrot cookies I fail to comprehend.  The Yanks were still playing baseball in 1940 while Britain 'stood alone' as the cheese eating surrender monkeys did what they do best.  I am quite pleased with myself now.  Tomorrow it's Bannocks!

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Desperate Abstract

Desperate to find a photo worth taking today.  Weather didn't help, having too much work to do didn't help, having no talent didn't help.  So I gathered together the pencils and produced this!  Long ago in a photo mag I read that pictures are all around you!  Open your eyes and see them.  This is true but it is not always possible to see them.  Coming from Edinburgh, the most beautiful city in the world, I found that for the first few years living in London I could not 'see' any pictures when I returned to Edinburgh.  The problem was the castle, the buildings, the surroundings were all part of growing up and I just took them for granted.  I could not 'see' pictures for a few years.  There again who wishes to see pictures of wet buildings, ancient or not?  


Tomorrow the kitchen!

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Back to Normal

The world returned to normal this morning. Vehicles sped up and down the road, the wireless offered death, despair and shock horror headlines, as did the rest of the media.  People grumbled as the passed my door, and this not surprising as the howling gales blew rain in sheets against my window, and the passers-by!  Indeed the world has forgotten the recent time of 'good will to all men,' and has returned to girning about the weather, the government, the neighbours and all else.  I, still suffering this virus have hardly slept all night. Food is not retained and I feel awful again, so normality is found here also.  My mood was not helped when the Landlords manager returned to work and informed me I will have to fix my dead oven myself!  Oh yeah?  How I ask?  They will pay but my hamfisted approach will ensure a fire that destroys half the town, what then! Bah! The rain is still coming down and I am sure the postmen will be rejoicing in such weather.  Gales blowing what mail there is out of their hands, rain filling the bags, and customers whining about 'paper mache' being put through their doors!  Up north much destruction is being caused by the storms there.  So we are not too bad I suppose.

One item caught my attention for a moment today.  David Hockney, an artist, criticised other artists, in particular Damian Hirst, for not being sole authors of their 'work.'  I found this quite amusing.  Here we have a man made famous by banal empty pictures unhappy with Damian's approach. If only either were real 'artists' and produced something that made a difference as opposed to something that made them a name then life would be better for all. Both have large bank accounts, neither cares much for any other opinion as far as I can see, yet these two are feted and prized by the chattering classes.  "It's a funny old world Saint!"

Daily Mail

Now I like looking at aircraft.  I am no 'spotter,' as I often have no idea what I am looking at, but I enjoy watching the machines fly by.  Two 'Helicopter Spotters' claim to have driven into RAF Oldham, being 'waved by' by the security men as they followed a line of vehicles entering.  They claim they thought a display was under way and innocently wandered about taking pictures of the machines.  They drove up close to one or two and were somewhat surprised after ten minutes when an armed response unit responded with arms and locked them up. Max Award and Addison Bridet were interrogated for three hours and then released.  The MOD spokesman said security had not been compromised.  Not compromised?  Two men drive in unchecked, wander about, taking photos and security is 'not compromised?  Of course it was compromised!  How easy would a terrorist have found an entrance here?  How many other bases have poor security, and many employ 'outside security' to guard the base, partly to save money and [partly to release men for other duties.  I have always found this dubious.  The armed forces ought to guard themselves, and if RAF bases are so easily entered I suspect a resurgence in the RAF Regiment after this, although George Osbourne (the Chancellor) will not allow money to be spent on this.   

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Lionel Walden

I came across this picture of Cardiff Docks by the American artist Lionel Walden  (1861-1933)the other day and am much impressed. I love realism in paint, especially when as bright as this, er... dank,  scene happens to be.  It is real life, full of action and contains a steam train!  What more could anyone ask for I wonder? Cardiff Docks themselves have declined with the years, although still in use much of the area has been regenerated and the 'Tiger Bay' reputation is not what it once was. Waldens pictures are worth a look!


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Now I am not one to Complain but,

So after the e-mails I phoned using my dying mobile phone. I ensured I charged the battery as I expected to listen to "Your call is important to us," several times before getting anywhere.  This indeed occurred and starting from being "Seventh" in the queue I soon moved up to "2nd," although I was beginning not to care when the man in Bangalore answered. We went through the whole thing again, he following his script well, and in due course sent me on to the 'Technical' people.  I can well understand a need for one to remove all the simple fault, check the connections, pay your bill etc, so I happily (ha!) waited as the music played.  What the music was I know not, the sound distorting on the phone, although it may have distorted over the ten thousand miles it was travelling of course. Eventually a lovely young Indian women cheerfully and pleasantly went through the script and tested the line.  "There is a fault on the line," she told me helpfully, and asked of she ought to call my mobile while she did what she had to do. I had informed her the battery would run out but happily (again) decided to wait the "two or three" minutes this would take.  On minute later the battery died!  She never called back, I fear to do so especially during the day, and I have now no idea if the thing will be fixed or not.  The staff were indeed friendly and efficient but I wondered how they cope with strong accents?  I speak clearly to such as they, my time in London taught me this when dealing with 'Foreign Johnny's,' but upset folks from Newcastle or Cornwall may not be so considerate!  At the moment the Internet works, but does collapse at busy times or stops for no reason, the phone remains dead.  Ah well another 24 hours may well explain it all, possibly. 

   BBC

As I type my spelling mistakes I am listening to the 'BBC Democracy Live' programme offering live debates from the UK House of Commons.  I like this site as it allows us to watch Parliament at work both in the House and in Commons Committees.  We are also offered the Scots Parliament, Welsh Assembly and the European Parliament (for what that's worth) and within a few minutes we can find live, or recorded, all our politicians lying in their teeth in every part of the nation and indeed in Europe!  This is indeed a find!  The debates never vary, the government defends, the opposition attempts to pick faults, the 'other side' is always in the wrong and facts are used to support any argument! The best occasions are when the House is almost empty and a Bill, of major or minor importance, is being debated by those with a particular interest in it. Often these can be knowledgeable or just plain funny!  The wit and friendliness of many debates are rarely reported however I find some better than the usual TV offerings. Others of course debate long and hard on Bills of major importance and very serious indeed.  Today we debate the NHS, "The other side was at fault." "Oh no it wasn't, you are."  Money amounts, in the millions, are quoted by both sides, but in the end we know the Tories will kill of the NHS if they can, and the 'other side' (Labour) want to save NHS costs also.  In the end we lose out as hospitals close, queues lengthen, and those office workers I once worked amongst still squander millions with no thought for patients anywhere!  What is the answer?  The Tories want to sell it, Labour keep it (Tony Blair would sell it also as he is well off!) but cut costs.  In short none of them know what to do!  In the end ideology, not facts, will tell.

Turner painted this in his 'impressionist style. Some tell me his paintings like this of the later part of his career are fabulous but I wonder?  I went to the gallery some years ago and saw many of his pictures 'live' and it appeared to my mind that in the end he had just got to much yellow and white paint delivered and didn't wish to waste it. As each was produced they became more or less white and yellow mixtures with added darker blobs. On a decent day I get similar experiences simply by removing my glasses.  This does not give me an 'impression' of the world around me it just leaves me falling over litter bins and park benches.  While I admired much of Turners work and I love the bright colours of such a painting I must wonder if it deserves the respect it receives, although much of that comes from fawning critics who don't wish to be different from the crowd. I would rather see the train, the sky, and the colours.  My twisted and perverse brain can accommodate these and supply a suitable impression when required. What say you?

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House

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This is one of several houses around here designed in the William Morris,  'Arts & Crafts' style and built around 1900, give or take ten years either way. Morris was one of those well to do middle class socialists that arose during the nineteenth century.  Adrift from the really poor he did aspire to create a more egalitarian, liberal, society while also developing his own art which showed up in textiles, writing and poetry. 'Arts & Crafts' basic idea was the promotion of the individual craftsman as opposed to the increasing use of machinery. This of course led to the finished high quality product being very expensive, and well out of the reach of the lower classes, and the middle classes also preferred the cheaper mass produced textiles, wallpaper and fabrics. Buildings such as this also show much in the way of craftsmanship, although as there are several like this about I am not sure how much the builders merely followed a mass produced plan!  Surprisingly I have noticed this building is not on the 'listed buildings' site either. Maybe they are not worth that much to the listing people?  Mind you one sold for around £400,000 recently, but not to me!

Somewhat typically the last day of Summer was overcast by white clouds accompanied by low temperatures. The first day of Autumn yesterday saw the clouds lift and the sun reappear. Today I strolled out wearing my disgusting old fleece jacket and found the air very warm indeed. High above the half naked young males attempting to impress the half naked young females soared the seagulls as they whirled about vulture like, slowly making their way the the estuary around fifteen miles away.  There they spend the night, on the water I suppose, before returning with the dawn to live off the land. I wonder if they do this the right way? I realise that my little camera could not get any closer to them, and they may be found as little dots near the bottom of the picture, but it is difficult to focus when some sixteen year old nymph is sunbathing nearby.


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A Saturday Night Painting

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Norham Castle

I am just trying to make an impression......

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Art

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About a dozen years ago a pretty young lass and I wandered around the historical, but by now somewhat grubby port of Harwich. It was possible to tell just how busy this small place had once been by the abundance of public houses! Entertainment was at hand for the Jack Tars of yesteryear. Today however, (and by today I mean yesterday as twelve years ago cannot by any stretch of the imagination be called today can it?) today tourists and some seeking a ferry to somewhere in Europe are more likely to be found than bearded submariners blinking in the unused to daylight. Quite whether the 'unused to' bit is caused by being stuck inside a 'tin fish' or spending too long inside 'The British Flag' I am not sure. Anyway while perusing the sights, such as they are, we came across a small 'art gallery.' We went in, as you do, and observed the offerings. Two ageing poky rooms had been turned into a place to exhibit paintings. We looked, we pondered, we cogitated, that sort of thing is allowed in such gallery's. We perused the offerings, mumbled, hummed and thought "Jings!" Most exhibits were influenced by the sea. Some made us look twice, several made us look away. What made us open mouthed however was the small tickets revealing the prices found on one of the corners of each 'work.'  One that remains in my memory, possibly for ever, was a four foot by four foot (translate into metric for yourself) bright blue array with splashes of white strategically places to resemble boats at sea. Now I give you that to some extent this worked! This clearly was an attempt to portray yachts out on the briny. There is no doubt we both caught this right away and were impressed! We loitered, (no, not like that) we gazed, we almost admired. However we might have been admiring the cheek as opposed to the art as our open mouths were caused by the price tag of £994 that sat in the top right hand corner! Quite how the figure was deduced I know not! She looked at me and grabbed both my arms to stop me racing for the door and heading to the painting and decorating shop around the corner. My eyes filled with pound signs and hers with tears as she reminded me that 'Honesty is the best policy.' In truth it would not have been honest to charge such a price for something that must have taken half an hour to produce - artistically! Even the art displayed along the railings in Bayswater Road in London once a week did not overcharge to that extent. Well, I don't know mind, thinking back I may well be wrong there. Their customers mostly came from foreign tourists or folks too rich to understand the meaning of money, so maybe I just did not enquire of the right people.


Now 'art' is good. There is a great need for it. However it is such an open market that any rubbish can be called art, the Turner prize proves this. Vast sums are paid for rubbish because of two things, stupid people who consider themselves art experts (I cannot spell connoisseurs!) and clever people who know a rich mug when they see one! Hence a sheep in chemical is art, as is an unmade bed! Even worse are those who prattle nonsense about the 'art' in front of them, partly because they 'believe' in it and partly because that is the type of people they mingle with, and therefore must speak their language. Pretentious codswallop! This is indeed a sad world in so many ways! 


But 'art' is necessary! We need it to brighten our homes, our workplaces, our lives. It can be found all around us and we feel better when we participate, whether by drawing a picture for the kids, painting the house or attempting a water colour. Art can also be musical, which many can perform in one form or another, (ABBA does NOT count as music!, writing, poetry, much ignored today, and for some, dance the most impenetrable of art form! Vast differences appear in all these 'arts.'  High and low brow offer something to us all but maybe 'The X-Factor' could be classed as an exception there? However spare me things that spoil the natural world, there is more than sufficient 'art' to be found there. No artist of today can compete with a flower as art once it has bloomed, so why spoil such surroundings with plastic and bent metal? Only the art snob could like this. Ah the art snob! They like to be seen, they have the cash, they usually don't actually work, so artists can live of such folk for many years, and I suspect this will always be the case.


Councillors for reasons that I have never understood like to have 'art' in their towns. Harlow (the 'T' is silent) now proclaims itself a 'Sculpture Town,' having laid out, at great expense, a 'sculpture tour. Those who have visited this 'New Town' created in 1951 reckon that the Luftwaffe would be better brought out of retirement to benefit the townsfolk than this! A friend who serves as a police officer there may well remark about money spent on 'art' when CCTV would be a better idea! Councillors throughout the nation are always buying junk and placing it in towns and cities in spite of the populations condemnation of such activities. The resident does not count it appears. 


Art, in spite of what the experts tell us, does indeed come down to what we like, or appreciate. What is junk today will be popular tomorrow. What was forced on a people once, Hitler's views on art for instance, will be hated for idealogical reasons while Communist art is often praised, although these two men had much in common. Taste moves with the fashion, and fashion is often wrong! I write this because of what I saw the other day, 'junk' praised as art by the middle class trendies. The type of person who think Gormley's absurd men standing in the Pool at Liverpool is 'telling!' In fact it tells us he knows a mug when he sees one, his reputation is advanced as indeed is his bank account. Sadly passing fashion makes one rich and another poor, although who has real talent is often hard to tell. 


I like lots of art, and prefer not to mix with those who 'know.' Ignorance allows me to enjoy all sorts of rubbish, but costs me nothing! I like this.....

  

I came across this forum today and while I have not read all the posts I have looked at the pictures. I think they back up what I am trying to say here.

What the World Needs Now.....

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Archers

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William Powell Firth. 'English Archers 19th Century'

I laughed when I saw this picture. Here we find three middle class ladies firing a bow and arrow. Now such a hobby is indeed enjoyable, I can think of many targets I would like to use such equipment on, and this is one of those 'sports' that women can participate in happily, unless you are in front of them of course. (Or maybe behind when I think about it....) Here the middle classes of the late 19th century are at play, while the working class are cleaning the house for them during their 14 hour day!  What struck me as funny was the comparison between these ladies and the 'English Longbowmen' of 1346 at places like Crecy or Agincourt!  

The lass in the gray dress, with matching headgear, compares well with a smaller man dressed in tights, ripped of course, a thick quilted short length coat with short sleeves. Sometimes a conical helmet was worn, without the flowers or bows used by the ladies, and I suspect the condition of the archers outfit was somewhat tardy in comparison to these ladies. There again the lassies would have powdered themselves with all the latest overpriced ointments to enhance their chances with the (wealthy) male of the species while the longbow carriers would merely have used mud and body fluids! For some reason this comparison drew laughter from my cruel heart. Oh art, how you reflect society - sometimes!

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Greenock Harbour

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Victorian painting is not popular with some. However I find many excellent works there and this one by John Atkinson Grimshaw is one I like. There are one or two others on this excellent Golden Age Paintings blog, and I recommend it to lovers of fine arts and nice pictures. There are a variety of pictures, and lots of words for those that like that sort of thing, and very good it is too!

 Salthouse Dock - Grimshaw.

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Sunday Evening

This afternoon I had the delight of watching Engerland playing their last friendly match against Japan. It was a delight to me! Japan are not the mediocre side of the past, however they are still not world beaters as yet. England had most of the play and yet did not dominate their hard working opponents, indeed they went behind to a nicely worked goal early on. Cue cheering from me! The second half saw a better England side, even the commentators had begun to realise their boys were not doing very well in the first half! Yes it was that bad! A silly penalty from naive Jap defending ought to have given the equaliser to Frank Lampard. I could see from here where the ball was going (goalkeepers instinct never die) but I did not expect the goalie to save it and he did! Laugh, what me? Oh yes! Sadly as the home side desperately attempted to sort themselves out the unfortunate defenders twice put the ball into their own net! This game revealed to almost everyone the nature of England's footballing record. Not organised or capable, yet get lucky penalties and even luckier goals. This makes them think they are world beaters! In a few days they will be playing for real. I look forward to how they deal with the top sides opposing them, oh hold on they have the easy group once again! Indeed they have, USA, Algeria & Slovenia! Now I must say the USA now have a quite powerful side and the contest will be between these two, and I am looking out my USA flag for that game! Algeria are poor and Slovenia I am not sure about at all just now. Still, in a couple of weeks we the hype reaches its zenith and then comes the fall! Wooppee!

A nice picture for a Sunday evening. Unfortunately I cannot remember where I got this nor who the artist is. However I like pictures of this type and will find out the answers soon enough. Good innit?

In today's Telegraph we find Ken Clark, the only Tory I have any time for, defending David Laws after the ex- Treasury minister stepped down. This is loyalty and understandable but what does this situation tell us about government today?

Laws, who made his money in the city and became a millionaire by the time he was 22 I heard, had been claiming expenses for a flat used by his boyfriend. Claiming they were not 'in a relationship' so I suppose they were just friends who played with one another?  What irks me is not their private life, which always ought to remain private, but that a multi millionaire, demanding vast cuts in government departments which may lead to thousands of job cuts, is using tax payers money (@ 'Daily Mail') to the tune of £40,000 to pay for his weekends away! Resigning this morning he continues to imply he has 'done nothing wrong' and cannot see how this financial misuse is unacceptable? Do these people not live in the real world? I suppose he never has, his background and work life are not similar to one cleaning office floors or sitting on a checkout getting bored.

Ken Clark, who ought to be the leader of the Conservative Party in my view, is right in saying this man may well reappear in a year or so, and I suspect this will be right, however parliament needs to realise just how out of touch many of them are!

The Giant Axe Head

According to the BBC this Giant Axe Head "...a 1.5 tonne sculpture which overlooks Loch Dee - is one of seven stone sculptures installed near cycling and walking paths in the south of Scotland to encourage forest visitors."

What is it about 'artists' that they think that spoiling the fabulous view with examples of their 'art' benefits anybody? Who, in their right mind, would be encouraged to cycle or walk along these paths just because some self absorbed eedjit plants one of their misshapen heads there?

How often do we see the wonders of nature around us spoiled but such misjudgements? There is a great view here, not the best in Scotland, but well worth the trip, and dumped by some well paid 'fly tipper' is this lump or stone that would have looked far better back home in its hillside. I'm sorry, but too often we see a variety of contorted materials blemishing the world in the name of 'art.' Who benefits? The artist gets a name, and far too much cash. The council or authority folk involved can keep in with the 'chattering classes' but rarely, if ever, consider the public's opinion on 'public art.' Not long ago Radio 4 had a short programme debating 'Public Art' and it was clear councils and other responsible took no notice or concern for the public's opinion. They may well pay the money, and how much money is wasted this way, but their opinion is ignored by the 'experts.' Edinburgh Council once placed a 'Kinetic Sculpture' at the top of Leith Walk. This comprised about thirty feet of scaffolding with coloured tubular lighting attached. The lights switched on and off in an irregular pattern. Around 1972 this cost £12,000! Who benefited apart from the con artist who got the money? Art can be a fantastic benefit to any area, urban or not. 'Art,' has however, to be 'art,' and not just an opportunity for a few to burden the rest of us with their 'taste!'