I happened across an article in the Paris Review about the Unicorn tapestries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York; Rockefeller apparently obtained them and gifted them – and I’m not sure how I feel about the originals living in NYC. In any event, they reminded me of having watched the weavers at Stirling Castle, as they worked over the course of years, to re-weave the pieces.
Keeping in mind these weavings are something like 10 feet / 3 meters wide, and as tall as the ceiling, they represent an immense amount of labor. I think I’m more impressed that Historic Scotland essentially had full-time labor over the course of something like 7 years, to produce replicas.
Most of the time, getting to Glasgow University sucked. But, most of the time in Scotland, getting places sucked, because it was inevitably cold, and probably either snowy or wet or both (“wintry mix”). There are days that make up for it, though, and those days were glorious. Being able to walk through a real park on the way to school was a real joy (when it didn’t suck).
For an American, walking through a park & looking up at this university, realizing that you attend here. Well, it’s a bit of a thrilling feeling. This is something special, different, exotic. This has history we don’t have. The university was founded in 1451, so it’s bound to have history.
For all that we loved looking at the main building, I only ever had a few meetings in there. A conference.
We had choir rehearsals in the chapel attached to the main building, and so came to love wandering about the buildings, visiting our favorite trees, etc. And I did get to climb to the top of the tower, to photograph Kelvingrove Museum from above.
Glasgow – the filthy city – was home for maybe the longest we’ve had a city that felt like home. We lived in Glasgow from 2007 through 2012. Our friends there would think I’m crazy, but I’d move back tomorrow.
It seems just yesterday that we were off to Hawaii, to visit Julia and say hello to a tropical island. We went, we photographed, and pretty much no travel has happened since.
I hope you are all avoiding the smoke, here on the west coast. I will make the weekly pilgrimage to farmer’s market, Sunday morning: 15 minutes of outdoor buying.
Oh, I wish: get a Nomad Visa and move to Estonia, to visit our friend Pille, and to travel again.
Fiberglass cows. This one’s decorating the sign outside the race car track.
They’re not as glamor-seeking as the Sonoma County, maybe. Or perhaps it’s just that this one was in Edinburgh and it tends to be a bit less cattle-friendly?
The Netherlands, of course. There’s also a porcelain cow in the pictures of Delft, but … we’re sticking with the fiberglass ones. At least there’s some connection, with this one being in front of a cheese shop.
This one … was simply in the awkward space down the central well of a building.
Through the years we’ve done vegetable gardens, with maybe a few flowers thrown in as a row border or something. This year we’re really only (successfully) doing flowers.
I can catch the morning glories before the pods pop if I check up on them, but that’s just for fun, because there’s no way I’ll get them all, and I don’t want to really. The nasturtiums are just easy to find. The other flowers have already self sown by the dozens. This should be fun!
Looking through photos reminded me of what a different world we’re in, compared to just twenty years ago. In 1999 we went to the Netherlands, Germany, and France. We took a train from Amsterdam to Kaiserslautern but got turned around and missed a connection. So we found a payphone and called our friend, who was at home waiting to hear from us, and on we went. It was normal, before cell phones, to be completely at the mercy of whomever decides where payphones go and upon your friend being home, waiting.
It was also normal to take maybe a hundred pictures on a week’s vacation. We may have taken perhaps 250, but would have been cautious, because every one cost money to develop. And so we have pictures like this one, where I dearly wish I had a few hundred more from which to choose. As photos go, meh. As a memory….
Ahh, we used to have hair, didn’t we?
When we returned to Scotland in 2015, we tried to return to the Crannog Centre (we first visited in 2007). It was raining horribly, the road was literally flooded out, and we gave it up. Next time, though, and we will have more than a film camera, shooting with expired film! (it was an artistic choice)
I will perhaps give the pole lathe another try. I don’t remember it very well, looking back 13 years. I don’t believe I will require a new wallet next time, though.
I’ve begun going through our massive photo collection & pulling things out of circulation. One can really only so many pictures of the same building, you know? So, how do you manage 39,000 photos?
In our case, it’s pretty simple, in a way. If it’s not a meaningful picture – doesn’t say something important, make us remember someone or something important – then it gets made private. That means, of course, that I’ve got to look at every single photo along the way.
So I downloaded them and am working my way through alphabetically. I’ve just made it through Charing Cross. Yes, the lighting all looks like this. Doesn’t mercury vapor provide a nice ambience? /sarcasm
Charing Cross is basically where we spent most of our time in Glasgow, simply because it’s in the middle of everything. It’s also a sort of weird place where people would ask for me to take their picture. They didn’t really even want to see the picture. Just to be photographed was enough.
Of course, for me it was also a great place for selfies, as there’s a building which spans the motorway there which has mirrored windows. I’d quite often end up stopped there & would say hello, as it were. Have a wee look around at the street view map.
Not quite the standard mirror-selfies. I’m sure I’ll find more along the way.