Reflections on Lockdown #4


When will it end!? I hear you crow.

I did warn you that I’ve had a very busy lockdown on the art front.

Today’s offering is landscapes, which segues nicely from Reflections on Lockdown #3.

I like drawing landscapes. There’s something very relaxing about it. Painting them, on the other hand, is a different kettle of fish.

Sketching is more about observation and trying to depict a representation of the landscape. Whereas, painting is more about trying to capture the energy of nature. (With varying degrees of success.)

Here’s a selection for you to ponder.

Yorkshire Dales
Yorkshire Dales
A village in Italy. (From a photo.)
Jenkin Chapel, Saltersford, Cheshire.
Top Withins, Haworth/Stanbury, West Yorkshire.
Yorkshire Dales.
Yorkshire Dales.
Yorkshire Dales.
Yorkshire Dales.
Yorkshire Dales.

If you, or someone you know, are experiencing mental health issues, call your GP or self refer to your local mental health team, (usually based at your local hospital).

If things are a bit more urgent than that you can call the Samaritans for free on 116 123. Or call the NHS on 111, they will treat your illness as seriously as they do any other.

If you want to see more of my photos and artwork follow me on Instagram: @milligancroft

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Reflections on Lockdown #3


Hello again.

Welcome to the third instalment of Reflections on Lockdown. Today, I’ll be focussing on nature and photography.

One of the things my children and I have been doing a lot more of during lockdown is getting out into the beautiful countryside that is on our doorstep. In the early days of lockdown, we’d just drive around and not get out of the car. More recently, we’ll go for a wander making sure to wear masks and social distance. Not that we see any bugger else where we go.

Where I live in the North West of England is on the edge of the Peak District, East Cheshire and the Yorkshire Dales. We’re truly blessed to have such stunning scenery so close by.

So, this post is as much about the benefits of being in and around nature as it is about art. The art aspect is the photographs I take along the journey. (And yes, I saturate the bejaysus out of them when I get home.) In my defence, manipulating the images only brings out what is already there in nature. It just needs teasing out.

Apparently, spending two hours per week is scientifically, (yes, scientifically), proven to lower blood pressure, reduce stress hormone levels and boost the immune system. (Amongst other things.) A bit of old vitamin D from the sun can’t hurt either.

We’re lucky in that we have a car. But you don’t have to go miles to get your daily dose of nature. There are plenty of parks and urban green spaces to get your fix. Take a few snaps on your phone, or even take a sketch pad with you.

Here are a few shots I’ve taken over the last few months. I’ll try to put where they are if I can remember.

St Stephen’s church in Macclesfield Forest, East Cheshire.
I think this is Rishworth Moor, Ripponden, West Yorkshire.
Tegg’s Nose, Macclesfield, East Cheshire.
Macclesfield Forest reservoir, East Cheshire.
Baslow, Derbyshire, Peak District.
Saltersford, East Cheshire.
Snake Pass, Peak District.
St Thomas’ church, Higher Hillgate, Stockport.
Wildboarclough, East Cheshire.
River Wye, Bakewell, Derbyshire.
Goyt Valley, East Cheshire.
Goyt Valley, East Cheshire.
Goyt Valley, East Cheshire.
Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire.
Somewhere near Halifax, West Yorkshire.
Hebden Bridge (sort of), West Yorkshire.
Near Haworth-ish, West Yorkshire.
To be fair, this could be anywhere.
No idea. On the way to Buxton, Derbyshire.
Errm…
A wall. And a field.
Extreme close up of a wall somewhere in Northern England. Possibly.
A puddle.
Somewhere in the Peak District.
Winnats Pass, Speedwell Cavern, Peak District.

So, we’re starting to build a picture as to the state of my mental health during lockdown and the role that art has played in my recovery. I hope you enjoy this instalment of ‘Reflections of Lockdown’.

If you, or someone you know, are experiencing mental health issues, call your GP or self refer to your local mental health team, (usually based at your local hospital).

If things are a bit more urgent than that you can call the Samaritans for free on 116 123. Or call the NHS on 111, they will treat your illness as seriously as they do any other.

If you want to see more of my photos and artwork follow me on Instagram: @milligancroft

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Reflections on Lockdown #2


At the end of last year, I wrote a post featuring some of the work I had produced during 2019.

I was trying to map my mental health and how that might correlate with the type of art I was producing. (You can see it here – Adieu 2019.)

I was hoping to follow that on this year to see if the art I am producing now is any different due to my much improved mental health.

To be honest, it’s a bit difficult to tell just from this post alone as it only represents a fraction of a whole series of artworks I have produced since the beginning of the year, primarily during lockdown. (See also previous post, ‘Reflections on Lockdown’ here.)

I am planning three further ‘Reflections on Lockdown’ posts, which will then give a clearer picture as to the correlation between art and my mental health.

I guess the reason for all this preamble is that if we just looked at this post in isolation, you would be forgiven for thinking that my mental health has not improved at all! As a lot of this work has its roots in a style I developed over the past couple of years when I wasn’t very well mentally.

I have stuck with it, and developed it, not because I am unhappy, but because I like it! I find it very expressive.

Like I say, we can have a look at the bigger picture once I’ve posted everything I’ve been working on this year.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this instalment of ‘Reflections of Lockdown’.

Follow me on Instagram: @milligancroft

Odysseus SOLD
Hector
Darius I
Corona – tion
After The Son of Man SOLD
SOLD
Tethys SOLD

If you, or someone you know, are experiencing mental health issues, call your GP or self refer to your local mental health team, (usually based at your local hospital).

If things are a bit more urgent than that you can call the Samaritans for free on 116 123. Or call the NHS on 111, they will treat your illness as seriously as they do any other.

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Reflections on Lockdown #1


Howdy doody folks,

How’ve you all been doing under lockdown?

I’ve been doing lots of art.

Mainly sketching, painting with acrylics and photography.

Today, I thought I’d focus on portrait sketching. Most of it is in pencil, some chalk pastel and a little bit of charcoal.

You might even spot the odd bit of Amazon packaging for canvas when I ran out of paper.

Reference wise, some of them are life drawings, a lot from photographs and a few from other people’s paintings.

Apart from it being good practice, it’s also very good for your mental health. And, let’s face it, we all need to look after our noodles. Especially when Barack Obama stares at you like that all day.

I’ll post a few of my acrylic portraits at some stage. They’re a bit more experimental. With the emphasis on ‘mental’.

Follow me on Instagram: @milligancroft

Remember folks: Art is Medicine!

Toodle-pip.

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Making art out of art


I love marbling with the kids.

If you’ve ever done it before you’ll know that you can get some really cosmic patterns. You’ll also know that you’ve probably got more leftover samples of the stuff than you can shake a big shaky thing at.

So … what to do with all those cosmic castoffs … I know, let’s make a collage.

Start by cutting out shapes from your marbling masterpiece that you want to use in your composition and glue them onto a piece of paper.

Next, sketch in the rest of the composition. Add a bit of a felt tip outline.

I filled in the background with chalk pastel, but you could easily use felt tip, watercolour paint, pencil crayon or coloured paper.

And there you have it – you’ve made art out of art.

There is one other thing…

And, it’s probably the best bit. But I didn’t realise that until it was too late. Instead of cutting the shapes out of your marbling sample willy-nilly like I did, cut them out in the same position that you’re going to stick them on your paper. That way, when you position them next to each other you get a sort of positive/negative effect.

Hindsight? Serendipity? Whatever.

If you haven’t done marbling before you can use off-cuts of old patterned wallpaper, pictures from magazines or gift wrap paper. Or even paint an abstract background and use that.

It’s one more thing to do until the schools reopen in September!

If you want loads more of art activities to do you can sign up to Arc’s free ‘Keeping us together‘ programme. They email you a different art activity every week. (Arc is a brilliant Arts charity based in Stockport.)

And remember, folks – Art is Medicine*!

*Do not swallow art like medicine. It might kill you.

**I am not a trained physician.

***’Art is medicine’ is only my opinion and not a scientific fact.

****Or, is it?

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The Violence of Silence


This is a new poem I’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks. It’s not about Black Lives Matter, but it was inspired by it. Or rather, the silence of the white majority to the unfair and unjust treatment of black people and people of colour. The implicit violence that silence can bring.

That is the only connection – silence. And how crushing it can be.

Please be advised that the following poem contains harrowing themes.

The Violence of Silence.

By David Milligan-Croft.

The smirk,

The eyeroll,

The sigh.

The undoing,

The redoing,

The restacking the dishwasher,

The recapping the toothpaste.

The elbow grease on the bath,

The busying of the dishcloth.

The fingertrail in the dust,

The torment,

The subterfuge,

The game.

The song unplayed on the turntable,

The needle stuck in the groove.

The portrait on the wall,

Staring into an unseeable space.

The spent match.

The sheet music on the stand.

The dried paintbrush.

The gagged canvas.

The unwritten manuscript,

Of characters without a story,

Or Motive.

The spoon in the can.

The creeping mould.

The hungry bottle,

The greedy glass.

The torn betting stub.

The baby shoes in their box.

The unworn party dress.

The deflated balloon.

The candle wax on the cake.

The forlorn swing.

The jury’s gaze.

The unwound watch,

Ticking in your head.

The heaving chest,

The eyes cast down,

Searching the floor for an escape route.

The unanswered call.

The empty wardrobe.

The rosary beads on the dresser.

The bulging suitcase.

The silent doorbell.

The ‘closed’ sign on the shop.

Fallen petals on a florist’s floor.

The midnight car lot.

The despondent moon.

The fallen tree in the forest.

The charred embers.

The ripple without a stone.

The starling without a murmuration.

The stalking wolf.

The disused canal.

The stagnant water.

The ghost of a railway line.

The forbidden tunnel.

Fragments of a life unlived;

Or lived.

Who knows?

Or cares.

The drop of the body,

From the bridge.

Falling

Into the darkness.

Silence.

The stoic rocks.

Then violence.

The relevance of the cello piece? I adore the cello and I thought the subject matter of the poem suited the haunting and melancholy sound. If you are familiar with the lyrics of Chandelier by Sia, you’ll see why I chose it as an accompaniment.

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Parr Excellence.


Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

Martin Parr would probably groan in pun-staking agony at that headline.

Oh well, you’re here now.

Martin Parr is one of Britain’s greatest photographers. Actually, make that ‘the World’s’.

He manages to capture the zeitgeist of working-class life in all its gaudy technicolour, wherever he goes. Whether that be Barnsley or Brazil.

He’s known for his satirical and ironic documentary-style images that look at our insatiable rapaciousness for consumerism. That, and people eating chips.

Martin Parr

I’m not here to write his biography, just show you some of his brilliant work. If you’d like to know a bit more about him, his life, his work, his foundation and his legacy, click here. But if you just want to see more photos of people eating chips, scroll down.

Ireland.
USA. Kentucky Derby. 2015.
ITALY. Capri. Marina Piccola. 2014.
Sexy Beast, anyone?
Uruguay.
Barry Island. 1996.
WALES. Glamorgan. Tower Colliery. 1993.
Wales. Tenby. 2018.

If you want to have a look at some of his most recent projects, have a look here. You won’t be disappointed.

GB. England. Kent. Margate. 1986.
GB. England. Bristol. Pride. 2019.

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Liberty – Paul Eluard


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Paul & Nusch Eluard

When I first read ‘Liberty’ by French poet Paul Eluard I thought it was a love poem to his wife Nusch. Silly me.

After doing a bit of research (Googling) I learned that it was, in fact, about the Nazi occupation of his beloved France during the Second World War.

In my defence, I still think it reads like a love poem. Just love of one’s country, I guess.

It reminded me of ‘The Causes’ by Jorge Luis Borges. Another epic poem about love.

 

Liberty

By Paul Eluard

Translation by Guy Tiphane

 

On my school notebooks

On my school desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

 

On all the pages read

On all the blank pages

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

 

On the golden images

On the warriors’ arms

On the kings’ crown

I write your name

 

On the jungle and the desert

On the nests on the brooms[1]

On the echo of my childhood

I write your name

 

On the wonders of the nights

On the white bread of the days

On the seasons engaged[2]

I write your name

 

On all my rags[3] of azure

On the pond mildewed sun

On the lake live moon

I write your name

 

On the fields on the horizon

On the wings of the birds

And on the mill of the shadows

I write your name

 

On every puff of dawn

On the sea on the boats

On the mad mountain

I write your name

 

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On the thick and dull rain

I write your name

 

On the scintillating figure

On the bells[4] of the colors

On the physical truth

I write your name

 

On the paths awake

On the roads unfurled

On the squares overflowing

I write your name

 

On the lamp that comes alight[5]

On the lamp that dies out[6]

On my houses combined

I write your name

 

On the fruit cut in halves

Of the mirror and of my room

On my empty shell bed[7]

I write your name

 

On my gourmand and tender dog

On his pricked up ears

On his clumsy paw

I write your name

 

On the springboard of my door

On the familiar objects

On the flood of the blessed fire

I write your name

 

On any[8] granted flesh

On my friends’ brow

On every hand held out

I write your name

 

On the window of the surprises

On the attentive lips

Well above the silence

I write your name

 

On my destroyed shelters

On my crumbled beacons

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

 

On the absence without desire

On the bare solitude

On the steps of death

I write your name

 

On the health returned

On the risk disappeared

On hope without remembrance

I write your name

 

And by the power of a word

I start my life again

I was born to know you

To name you

 

Liberty.

 

Thanks to @chimesatmidnight on Instagram for first introducing me to the poem.

 

F.LEGER_

 

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Now, I am not.


index

What with the Coronavirus and all this isolation, it’s given us all a lot of time to think about things. Some positive, some not so much.

I’m not a religious person per se, in that, I don’t subscribe to any particular theism. I guess the closest I would come is Pantheism. Even then, I have my own theories about it. In fact, I wrote my own Creation myth to go with it! (I’ll post that at some point in the future.) Or will I? Because the future doesn’t exist. Or, does it? Is everything predetermined… whoa! You’ve got me off track.

Phew, that was close.

We could’ve been here for hours discussing that particular conundrum.

What I do think about a lot is death. Don’t go! I don’t mean that in a depressing way. More of a philosophical one. What happens when we die? Is there an afterlife? Does such a thing as reincarnation exist?

What’s that got to do with Covid-19?

Well, a lot of people have died from it. And nature seems to be thriving since we’ve isolated ourselves from huge swathes of it. So, what is the point of us? Is there one? Are human beings as insignificant as a dandelion? (Or, significant, if you’re a dandelion.)

I dunno. I don’t have the answers.

What I do know is that human beings are made of energy. We can’t live without it. That’s not my opinion, it’s a scientific fact. Another scientific fact is that energy can never be created nor destroyed. The atoms that created you and I came from the Big Bang. And they will not go anywhere, but back into the universe. That means, the atoms that make up you and I have been pottering about the universe for the past 13.8 billion years! God knows what mine have been up to. It can’t have been good.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that the energy that keeps you and me alive maintains its sentience once it leaves our bodies. But it did make me think of a poem.

It’s one I wrote a while ago and came to mind because of what’s going on in the world. How quickly and easily life can be arbitarily snuffed out whilst other life thrives. Perhaps the question is not, does human life have purpose? But, doesn’t all life have purpose?

dynamic-protein-atlas-of-human-cell-division

Now, I am not.

By David Milligan-Croft

 

I am an electron.

I am an atom.

Now, I am not an atom.

I am a star.

I am a white dwarf.

I am primordial gloop.
Now, I am not.

Now, I am molten lava,
Coursing through the juvenile earth.

Now, I am not.

I am a rock.
Marble, to be specific.

From the cliffs of Massa and Carrara.

Now, I am not a rock.

I am an amoeba.
Now, I am two amoeba.

I am sky.

I am cerulean-blue sky.
I am cloud – I am rain – I am river.
I am
w
a
t
e
r
f
a
l
l,

I am ocean.

I am vapour.

I am a droplet of dew on a monkey puzzle tree.
Now, I am not a droplet of dew on a monkey puzzle tree.

I am a puzzled snow monkey in a hot thermal spring.

I am a tiger.

I – am – a – tiger.

Waiting.

Watching.

Padding.

Creeping, slowly through the long grass.

I see you with your spear.

I. Am. Tiger.

Now, I am not.

I am a slave.
Skin flaking from my red-raw back
Like cherry blossom petals.

Now, I am free.

I think I am a Greek.
Therefore, I am not a Greek.

I am a hoplite.
My dory has shivered,
My hoplon is buckling.
Now, I am not.

I am a foetus.
I hear my mother’s muffled weeping
From somewhere close by.
Now, I am not a foetus.

I am the darkness
That envelops you.

I am a judas.
All that have gone before
And all that will come.

Now, I am a magician.
Now, I am not a magician.
Ta-daaaah!

Now, I’m a daddy!
I cradle your delicate life in my trembling palms.

One day, I will be your father no more,

But, for now,

I am.

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Hands up who’s bored!


Lockdown, quarantine, isolation, call it what you will. A lot of people are at the end of their tethers thinking of things to occupy this abundance of time they suddenly find that they have.

Here’s a little activity for adults and children alike. I stole it from a very talented artist called Jodie Silverman. You can have a look at her amazing work by clicking on her name.

Okey dokey, first off, draw around each of your hands on separate sheets of A4 paper.

Next, on one of the hands, (doesn’t matter which you choose), write all of the things you want to keep in your life. Basically, all of the good things that make you happy.

IMG_20200419_142219

On the other hand, write down all of the negative things you want to let go of. Things that get you down. Things that are holding you back.

rbt

Once you’ve filled your hands with positives and negatives, it’s time to start decorating them!

There’s no right or wrong way to do this. Use watercolours, felt tips, acrylics, pastels, collage, whatever you feel comfortable with. And whatever you have lying around the house.

You could do an intricate pattern, something abstract or something more realistic like plants and flowers. Let your emotions about the words on each hand guide what comes out onto the paper.

IMG_20200419_142137

And, what’s the point of all of this?

Well, doing any kind of art is relaxing and meditative. It focuses the mind and helps you to stay in the moment.

It’s reflective; by contemplating what makes you happy and what doesn’t, you are taking a conscious, positive step toward leading a more fulfilled life.

Of course, it doesn’t have to be all heavy, philosophical stuff. If you wanted to do it with the kids you could ask them to write down what they like/dislike about homeschooling or lockdown in general.

Who knows, you might learn something about yourselves along the way.

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