There’s an art to enjoying the outdoors
With the days shortening, Covid cases rising and new restrictions kicking in it feels like we’re being sewn into our underwear for the winter. ( A quick Google reveals this to be a true part of Scotland’s lingerie legacy, among other stuff I’d rather not have seen. Children and adults bound into their breeks till spring, with only a flap for convenience.)
But being told to stay in only makes me want to get out more, to travel, roam, bogle aboot. I love a good box set, but my eyes are red raw from the 24/ 7 screens – think spiral hypnotising spectacles – and the only thing that’s calming them is not looking at one.
So outdoors – green things, trees, grass, sky and the like beckon and I head off for a walk round my neighbourhood for a screen break.
Everything’s lovely, the birds, the trees, the autumn leaves, the loaf of ‘ pricey but nicey’ artisan bread from the bakery on the industrial estate, the sea, the ships, the huge self- portrait of Middle Child graffitied on the wall in retina searing tones in front of me… Unmistakeable. The image speaks to me of a troubled mind, and even more troubled dentistry.
I wouldn’t mind but there were years of braces and trips to the orthodontists devoted to that child and his siblings. Oh god.
“Is this you?” I text him immediately with a photo of the mural...
“Yeah! It was me.”
“It’s awesome, but...”
“Don’t stress ma, it’s a legal wall.”
“Oh, good." To be honest, it was the teeth that were bothering me most.
It’s a lovely self- portrait, and you’ve definitely captured a likeness, but...”
“Aw thanks ma. Gotta go. At work. Love you… Hang on, I did paint it, but it’s not a SELFportrait. It’s just what came out when I started painting. It’s OBVIOUSLY a surreal, cartoon figure, wild and crazy.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He’s still on the line. Awkward. “Is that really how you see me?”
The vivid clashing colours expressing a mind firing on all cylinders, the eyes bloodshot with exhilaration, the hair wild and unkempt…
“Er no, course not. Gotta go. Love you.