A full moon. I’m up to the church on the hill to film spiders.
Faint murmuring of music quietly echoes around the gravestones.
When I slip inside the ruined church a sad solo cello is quietly groaning. I can’t see where it’s coming from.
Looming from out of the shadows is a figure on the floor. Dead silent, and still. A body left unattended, awaiting burial? Gulp.
The solitary cello sounds like it’s reverberating from the ground up, whispering and whining from within the stones.
I’m about to be spooked when the cello loudly lurches out into an upswell of swollen strings.
The corpse in the corner suddenly moves its leg.
It’s a middle-aged man laid out on the ground. In this dark ruined church. On his own. Looking up to the full moon shrouded in clouds.
Listening to John Taveners Protecting Veil.
Probably have an epiphany.
Until I turned up.
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet
This is TV Art Critic Matthew Collings puffing his guff about JMW Turner.
It’s rather hard to take his preposterous presenting style seriously.
So I haven’t.
Although he does seem to take himself very seriously indeed.
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet
This Big Barry Spider lives in Hazes kitchen at the moment.
Possibly under the sink. Possibly behind the washing machine.
Unless The Cannibals have wrapped him up for dinner already. Like they did a couple of weeks ago with another black spider. Nearly as big as Barry.
Big Barry don’t come out much.
It’s not because he’s frightening.
It’s because he’s frightened.
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet
Fearless Filming: Hazel Brown
You would never think to come here. We haven’t. The name ‘Institute Beach’ doesn’t exactly inspire the imagination (unlike ‘Fairy Cove’ at the other end of Paignton)
And yet what a delightful surprise. A small, sheltered, slip of a cove.
I feel totally enamoured by how how private and protected it feels, how dinkily intimate. It’s like your own little private cove. To come and collect shells on or read a book in.
It’s also used as a Dog Dump. A Dog Toilet. I saw evidence of such over by the cliffs at the back there. (Have dog. Will Shit. Anywhere. Grrrr!)
I’m sure we’ll be coming back here. To Institute Beach. A place to be re-imagined. Possibly a place to be renamed.
Question to be answered: Why ‘Institute’ Beach?
Over to Paignton this afternoon.
While Haze was in the Dolls House shop I had a nosey around t’ area.
The Pocket Bookshop. Just about to become defunct.
I bought slim volumes of European poets here back in the early 90’s.
But the shelves are almost empty. It’ll soon be closing down. Yet another little independent bookshop done for by Amazon.
Here is Angela’s
Angela will make alterations to your trousers legs for you. Just the trousers (not the legs) And iron your stripy office shirts nice and crisp. Mind you I’ve never set foot, or will ever set foot, in a shop like Angela’s. Hence why I’ve got trousers half way up me legs and shirts that look like crumpled dusters.
Another reason why you might have to go to Angela’s and get your trousers regirthed is if you frequent Pie and Mash places like this too often.
The Pie and Mash Meal Deal: Plain mince Pie with 2 scoops of Mash for a fiver. Not the healthiest meal deal in the world (and if the online reviews are anything to go by not especially tasty either; small dry pie and powdery mash)
The woman sat in front of the Pie and Mash shop has just nipped in and requisitioned a pie for the refueling of her voluminous self. It’s possible she’s consumed a significant amount of Pie on numerous other occasions.
As I got back to Winner Street a lovely Faerie Lady was emerging from the Dolls House Shop (who doesn’t consume significant amounts of Pie)
Swinging her bags of miniatures. Bought off old Terry. He even threw in a nice box gratis. Nice one Tel.
So there you are. A few snapshots of Paigntons backend. A poignant pathos hangs over and around these sad little run down shops. Like a stagnant gas.
Thingy Peeple No 5 : Pim Poppleburk
(seen in St Marychurch where or there abouts)
From the Treeple Tribe I believe he belongs
Thingy Peeple No 6: Mr Badback
He’s had a heavy load to carry on his shoulders.
For the last 200 hundred years.
We’ve been saturating ourselves in the multi-colourful world of JMW Turner this last week.
So time to go colour in this drizzly grey Saturday afternoon out there.
Haze is looking across towards Teignmouth from Shaldon beach.
She would have been seeing this
And she would have been seeing this
But there was hardly any time to get this scene set, or these boats sketched, before the drizzle arrived.
We had to retire to the shelter to eat our cheese sandwiches and drink our flask of tea.
The drizzle persisted and prolonged, becoming proper rain.
So we drive up to Labrador Bay. Here Haze can attempt another watercolour from the dry confines of the car (while listening to Woolf Works by Max Richter on the car stereo)
And this is the watercolour sketch she produced
JMW Turner approved, gave her the thumbs up!
Words & Photos: Ian Nisbet; Watercolour Sketch: Haze Brown