There will be no miracles here.

 

My friend, Don Paul (a keen painter) and I had been talking about taking a wee trip out to visit a gallery for some time. Now, with Spring in the air, it was determined that we could get to Modern 2 Gallery in Edinburgh’s Belford District and, if the weather held, would have time after visiting the exhibition to take the cameras for a dodder around the West side of Dean Cemetery – a short walk along a connecting path.

  The exhibition comprised of a small collection of works by Scottish Artist Joan Eardley, entitled ‘The Nature of Painting’. There should be some copied examples of these at the rear of this zine – all copyright the artist herself.

  Following our appreciation of the works, we headed off for a cuppa and a scone before facing the very bright – but equally chilly – East side of Dean Cemetery.

  Unfortunately, the sun was very bright and made for extremely contrasty pictures, but I found a few worth saving, and these are reproduced here.

Entering Hell

 It’s such a difficult topic to write about; so difficult to express – in words – the awful feelings, the twisted aesthetic, the smouldering evil … (sighs) … you actually question your own veracity: were there really such evil people? Can I believe that they actually … ? Was there really a plausible reason why … ?

It’s now 13 years since I walked through the gates of Auschwitz Birkenau and, I have to admit, the questions – as above, and many more – still, for the most part, remain unanswered.

But I don’t want to be trite: of course the Holocaust happened; estimates suggest around 6,000,000 Jews were exterminated during the Shoah – and that is an estimate: the Einsatzgruppen undertook mass shootings which were largely undocumented; small children, some elderly, or people added ‘ad hoc’ to the transports were often omitted from deportation lists.

I think one of the problems we have in truly coming to terms with the evil inflicted – mankind upon mankind – during the Holocaust, is the shear scope of it! The numbers are truly unfathomable. Who can actually imagine what a group of 6,000,000 people looks like? What do you equate it too? I mean, it’s akin to the entire population of Scotland; or twice the population of Wales. It’s like trying to count the stars in the sky, its practically inconceivable.

Yet, while anyone of us would consider attempting to count up to 6,000,000 a hopeless task, the Nazi’s did not: they recorded the incremental ‘gains’ achieved by their almost mechanistic process of killing and disposing of all those they gathered to their death camps from all over Europe; recording their owns crimes for the benefit of posterity. While the lists of those human beings culled by the Nazis are incomplete, records are still held in various international archives. The Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum holds many of the surviving records of those transported too – and subsequently murdered by - the Nazi regime.

However, as I said, I don’t want to be trite. It’s a difficult subject to write about, and I worry that my own uninstructed presentations might belittle, undermine or otherwise disparage or downplay  – as I said before - the almost inconceivable enormity of the Holocaust.

Suffice to say that, as I walked through the camp gate - beneath the steel scrollwork which informed “Arbeit Macht Frei (work sets you free) -my mood sank. I knew I was entering Hell. It’s one of those experiences which are almost impossible to express. You have to be there. You have to see it for yourself.

I’ll let some of my pictures speak for me. But, remember, the Auschwitz I visited has been sanitised from the Death Camp which British, American and Russian troops came upon as they tried to clear Europe of the foul, Nazi sickness. Even now though, the pall of those atrocities seems still to cling to the fabric of the place. And it can’t be denied. Not ever.

Remains of the Sea Monster

 I have a penchant for trolling along sea fronts; it's amazing the stuff that Neptune refuses to harbour within his watery domain and chucks back onto the land.

But even I was surprised when I came upon this carcass (which I duly named: "Remains of the Sea Monster") lying - seemingly hugging a rock - quite far up the beach at Blackness in West Lothian.

It looked to me like some kind of sea monster. But, after further research, it seems it might just be the skeleton of a flatfish: Flounder, Plaice or Dab - though I've never heard of a 'Dab' fish. They're apparently common in the forth estuary.

The anglers who read this piece will doubtless know.

Anyway, I thought I'd share.

Out in the garden.

 Spring is almost (officially) upon us 👍

But, while we wait for February's page to fall of the calendar, nature is already making its moves: the snowdrops are out, the daffodils are pushing through the earth and the smallest buds are beginning to swell on the twigs of trees too long denuded of foliage by the cold and dismal winter.

Looking for any excuse to get out with the camera, I held out for a while - camera in hand - until yet another rain shower had passed overhead, then made my way among these tiny new additions to our garden.

I converted a few to monochrome as well. I hope you enjoy them.

Bit of a walk???

 St. Tropez? Bit of a walk, right enough, but would be well worth it in the end, No?

Joking aside, this is what I believe the guid folks of Blackness call the ‘Whimsy Stone’, and it’s a legend around those parts.

No one seems to know when or why it was carved. It sits against the road as you enter the village and it seems to have been so placed as a joke.

There is no official record of any ‘twinning’ with St. Tropez on the French Cote d’Azure and, in any case, the mileage is wrong.

It is a popular local attraction though, and much photographed by visitors. Those visitors might also note that there is a sign of the Old Hotel (now the excellent ‘Lobster Pot’ restaurant) that confirms the villages twinning with St. Tropez.

More from Moffat ...

Some more captures from my recent trip to Moffat in the new motorhome.

Jupiter Artlands

 

Jupiter Artland is a sculpture park found just outside East Calder in West Lothian

I’ve had the pleasure of visiting on a few occasions: enjoying not only the art, but the quietude. The landscape offers a haven from the madness of modern life – one of those places where I believe that taking out your phone, even just to look at the time, is a desecration of the habitat.

Add to that personal ‘deep breath out’ feeling I always gain when visiting, are the artworks themselves. They are found positioned at points along the meandering paths which snake easily through the park. Some of them have been there for years, but a few are changed each year – one reason why I look forward to returning each time.

www.jupiterartland.org

Strathbrock Parish Church

 It's almost two years, now, since I took the camera for a walk around this little church which lies nestled in the heart of Broxburn, West Lothian.

I've passed the church entrance way loads of times over the years; always noting it with a quick glance as I drove by. Then, having newly retired from work, and with a little time on my hands, I decided to visit.

It's a small Church: robust and staunch looking in its square frame stonework. The doors were locked and there was no one around - there were a couple of cars in the car park, but they may have been dog walkers who had journeyed further on.

The graveyard is very extensive for a small church. One of the graves is marked for a David Hamilton who was laid to rest in 1773. The church building has, I believe, gone through a few constructions - possibly having its beginnings in a wooden building in the 7th Century. The first stone church in the parish dates back to the 12th Century.

Its well worth a visit.