Saturday, January 15, 2011

reading, clothes, monkfish


Posted by PicasaSome years ago I experimented, I thought unsuccesfully, with drawing on the computer screen. I used an early version of Paintshop I think, or one of those electronic pad devices. Trawling through the files this turned up. I am still not proud of; but not entirely ashamed of it either.

Clothes interest me and I am not ashamed to say that I enjoy them. And as, as I do this morning,  I pass the shop in Chapel Place which specializes in tweed jackets and waterproofs, boots and hats and all the paraphernalia of country culture, I feel,  a passing fancy for a garment, on account of its texture, its colour or its cut. I put it quickly out of my mind however with the thought that clothes often turn out to be, rather than providers of warmth and modesty, and a shield against prying eyes, a compensation for the inadequacy of our flesh.

"What's he doing?" says the small boy to his dad at the fishmonger's stall in The Pantiles Farmers' Market. "Mr Fishman is cutting off the head of the monk fish," says his father, "to make it look prettier."

3 comments:

CC said...

As someone being forced to learn to execute illustrations on the computer, after
over 4 decades of successfully drawing and painting these by hand, I agree, not at all bad.

And did laugh (with a wince) at the poor Monkfish's expense.

Roderick Robinson said...

I didn't realise you too suffered from these secret desires about clothes. I often read (and re-read) the ads for that Indian tailor who regularly visits Britain and makes himself available in a string of hotels for measuring up those who fancy a Savile Row suit at a non-Savile Row price. I am particularly tempted by a design where both jacket and trousers have silk linings. But apart from being buried in it when would I wear it?

Unknown said...

CC Tablet drawing was attractive for a time but I grew tired of it once the innovation had worn off. Nothing beats pencil and paper in the long run.

BB I realized some time ago that I would never buy a suit again. A shopkeeper once said I think to me or it may have been to my late wife, Deirdre: "This should see you out." Any whe was fond of quoting it.