Today we made a start on rehanging those of our pictures we have room for.
We began with drawings of and by family members spanning some 40 years.
Jackie photographed the long and short views of the wall above the white sofa. Each of these images carries a story.
Let us start with the 1965 pencil portrait the sixteen year old Jackie made of her mother. When my new girlfriend showed me this in 1966 I asked her why she had not told me she could draw.
Chronologically the next is this now very foxed pencil portrait I made of Jackie in 1966. The story of its presumed loss and recovery is told in https://derrickjknight.com/2012/07/15/portrait-of-a-lady/
I made this quick charcoal sketch of Michael reading to Matthew at 76 Amity Grove in October 1973. It appears to contain a few spatters of white paint.
I completed this pastel portrait of my father in the early hours of 25th December 1988, a year to the day after he died. It had been a present for my mother who kept it on her bedroom wall until she died on 15th September 2021. The story of its creation is featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2012/08/07/would-you-believe-it/
Florence was eight when she produced this drawing in 2004 in response to a school prompt to draw something that made her feel warm and cozy, or words to that effect. It stayed on her school hall wall until the end of the year, when it was presented to me.
We collected the Modus from the garage just in time to nip down to Barton on Sea to catch
the sunset with its peach and indigo cloudscapes.
Suddenly, joyfully tripping, frolicking, gambolling; gleefully, excitedly, shrieking, like schoolchildren released from the classroom, came three exuberant young men toting mobiles and bottles to dance along the cliff edge where they
focussed on the splendid scenery as they lapped it up. We were soon in pleasant conversation. A team of roofers from Sheffield, they were carrying out a job locally which required them to stay in a local caravan site during the week with weekends at home. They were taking in as much of these unfamiliar pleasant sights as they could as soon as they had finished work. I was happy to give them pointers to places of interest and nourishment.
This evening we dined on chicken Kiev, chips, and baked beans, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.