I got some holgas processed a few months back. They were kindly scanned by a friend. I marvel how something which is so hit and miss has more charm than the flat digital picture. I’m afraid that the digital image though marvellous for aide memoire and for its instantaneousness lacks something slightly mysterious which comes with the crash of light, chemical and random chance of the film image. Last weekend I was talking to an incredibly prolific musician who maintained that the mistakes from improvisation and live music made the most polished ‘perfected’ piece of music seem dead. And I am in turn agreeing – there is something ‘dead’ about the digital image. It’s no mistake that so much post production is done on images by photographers nowadays. I’m not saying that images weren’t enhanced in the dark room but it seems to me that much more needs to be done to ‘improve’ a digital image than an analogue one. Besides…. there is no viewing screen.. you don’t know what you get until it comes back from the lab… its like Christmas.
Yesterday I stopped off in Gayfield Square (most famous for Gayfield Square Police Station and Inspector Rebus) to enjoy the blossom. There isn’t really much out at the moment. Crocuses seem to have been and gone.
I then turned off the Square to have a keek at Gayfield House. I have I confess a weakness for little Georgian Houses. When I was growing up a family friend lived in the most darling one on Bernard’s Row and I’m afraid its now seared into my mind as the most perfect of abodes. Beautifully proportioned. This poor dear went through a bad time of it before being rescued and is somewhat beset by ugly neighbours.
I had an errand on Broughton St last week (I had to visit Kathy’s Knits one of the many yarn shops which have sprung up in the past few years in the city to get a present). I found a picture of Chinese Buddliea growing errantly and I popped into the Printmakers Studio where I was able to buy a card for another friend’s birthday and look through the viewing window onto the workspace. I licked my lips at the bottles and bottles of ink colour. I’m afraid that the city is desperately gray here.
This is my second bought of illness this winter… on the whole compared to others I’ve been lucky. Touch wood. Unfortunately as I’ve got to do my work on a phone I can’t work until my cough has abated. I’m trying to use the time productively – taking part in Minimal February. Though the things I’ve discarded are piling up by the door. I’m avoiding going out until I really have to so my chest has time to recover. I’m also crocheting a granny shawl scarf from one ball of sock yarn found under my bed. Tidying and decluttering does have some benefits. I call this comfort crafting perched in bed with blankets piled up and Miss F stomping in and out.