Tag Archives: grief

My Journey with Bobbit

19 Jul

It’s been 4 years since I started blogging and I’ve done just over 1400 posts. My aim was to blog a drawing a day and I’ve more or less done it, so that’s around 1400 drawings. A fair amount of art. My very first blog was about my cat, Bobbit and one of my drawings of her. I’ve reblogged it here on my anniversary. I hope you like it.

My Journey with Bobbit.

The End Of The Road

27 Jan

11 tea cosy

It was a sad day in our city. A local man who was well known to many of us has died. I blogged about him a couple of years ago but didn’t say too much about him because he didn’t like a lot of attention. Tea Cosy Pete was a gentleman of the road, a man with a lifestyle that would be too eccentric for most of us, but for many decades he lived on the city streets, politely turning down offers of housing. Today the harsh lifestyle caught up with him and he died from a stroke, in his mid 60s. Peter was well liked, respected and accepted in a way that might not have been possible in larger cities. There has been a huge outpouring of grief across social media and the local press, with many tributes and  people telling their own Tea Cosy stories.

I often saw him standing and sitting around Swansea, but I only did one drawing as I felt uncomfortable about intruding into his privacy. It’s not something that normally bothers me, I think that artists are by our very nature, voyeurs, spying and scribbling. But it wasn’t the right thing to do with Tea Cosy Pete. May he rest in peace.

Sad Day, Happy Flowers

31 Jul

Yesterday was a sad one, the funeral of my dear aunt who died after a long illness, aged 87. Although we had been expecting it for some time, it’s still a shock and grieving is hard. She’s the last of her generation on that side of my family, which means that my cousins and sibling and I are now the elders. That’s a sobering thought for a bunch of baby boomers who still feel like we’re 25 – well in our heads anyway. She lived through World War Two and before that had suffered terrible poverty during the Great Depression. Her husband of 66 years and childhood sweetheart had gone to school without shoes or socks, whatever the weather. We, thankfully, have no idea of that level of poverty anymore. They created the welfare state after the war, the National Health Service, free universal education, decent housing, social services, pensions, all done for our benefit, to make sure we didn’t suffer the deprivation they had. And now we see selfish millionaire public-schoolboy politicians trying to dismantle what that brave generation worked so hard and so selflessly to achieve. I have no words to describe my contempt.
As we waited in the watery sunshine for the hearse to arrive at the pretty little church in Waunarlwydd, I noticed a small group of pale purple pansies growing out of a crack at the base of the step leading into the church. Nobody had doused them with weedkiller and people stepped over them carefully. I love pansies, they have those daft little faces in the middle of their nodding heads with big ears. It cheered me up to see them surviving in such an unlikely place, so I drew them in my sketchbook.

 

 

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