Two views of Sark
Up early this morning and managed intermittently to wirelessly connect my laptop to the hotel’s network. Then mooching about the Parish, putting flowers on my grandparent's grave, and walking some of my favourite paths.
Had a splendid meeting with Catriona this afternoon, who helped me sort out the next steps for the Anthology, and also to understand what was needed and not provided in the meeting yesterday. Soon I felt decidedly back on track with the project, and Catriona has given me a tremendously useful list of contacts.
My approach is to clarify the concept, and find out what content there is, and only then make assessments about format. This I’m discovering is an agency way of thinking, rather than an arts organisation way of thinking. They are more pragmatic and focused on the object they are supporting, and how much it will cost. I need to get the project rolling, and create some media interest on the island and beyond. First step is to build an website, which I will do in a two of weeks, after I’ve finished Skelton Yawngrave.
Meeting was at Catriona’s house which has big grey gates that swing open mysteriously as you approach them, and we drank a cup of tea and discussed important cultural matters in her kitchen, overlooking her garden which has a magnificent view of Sark framed by a tall tree.
Felt decidedly back on track after this meeting and had an enjoyable evening. Popped into Les Douvres for a Thai curry, and slid into the Captains for another bottle of Pony. Spent the rest of the evening reading Appointment with Venus, a novel written shortly after the war by Jerrard Tickell set on an imaginary Channel Island called Armorel, clearly based on Sark. It’s a wartime adventure with a band of Islanders going back to the island to rescue a cow. And it is not a comedy. An interesting period piece—and quite interesting to see how badly it was edited. It was a movie too, filmed on Sark.
Chatted to Lorraine this evening as I walked in the lanes, and heard that Beth and Mark are happy cat sitting at my house. Calliope woke them up at five apparently.
Below spent the morning walking about in St Martins, A waterlane below the wishing well, the path above Moulin Huet, and fixating on the plants—particularly St Peter Port Daisies—which sprout from granite walls this morning.
Up early this morning and managed intermittently to wirelessly connect my laptop to the hotel’s network. Then mooching about the Parish, putting flowers on my grandparent's grave, and walking some of my favourite paths.
Had a splendid meeting with Catriona this afternoon, who helped me sort out the next steps for the Anthology, and also to understand what was needed and not provided in the meeting yesterday. Soon I felt decidedly back on track with the project, and Catriona has given me a tremendously useful list of contacts.
My approach is to clarify the concept, and find out what content there is, and only then make assessments about format. This I’m discovering is an agency way of thinking, rather than an arts organisation way of thinking. They are more pragmatic and focused on the object they are supporting, and how much it will cost. I need to get the project rolling, and create some media interest on the island and beyond. First step is to build an website, which I will do in a two of weeks, after I’ve finished Skelton Yawngrave.
Meeting was at Catriona’s house which has big grey gates that swing open mysteriously as you approach them, and we drank a cup of tea and discussed important cultural matters in her kitchen, overlooking her garden which has a magnificent view of Sark framed by a tall tree.
Felt decidedly back on track after this meeting and had an enjoyable evening. Popped into Les Douvres for a Thai curry, and slid into the Captains for another bottle of Pony. Spent the rest of the evening reading Appointment with Venus, a novel written shortly after the war by Jerrard Tickell set on an imaginary Channel Island called Armorel, clearly based on Sark. It’s a wartime adventure with a band of Islanders going back to the island to rescue a cow. And it is not a comedy. An interesting period piece—and quite interesting to see how badly it was edited. It was a movie too, filmed on Sark.
Chatted to Lorraine this evening as I walked in the lanes, and heard that Beth and Mark are happy cat sitting at my house. Calliope woke them up at five apparently.
Below spent the morning walking about in St Martins, A waterlane below the wishing well, the path above Moulin Huet, and fixating on the plants—particularly St Peter Port Daisies—which sprout from granite walls this morning.
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