The Day the Fish Died: A True Story

Written at Colchester Write Night, on Monday 22nd May 2017, the first meeting at our new venue, Firstsite Gallery. We looked at the story behind Grayson Perry's Julie Cope and did a writing exercise  inspired by this. Here is mine...

A young boy likes fishing in the river behind his house; that is a shop at the bottom and a flat at the top. He lives there with his mum and dad and sister, and a big white dog called Penny. Many years later the young boy’s dad remarries and his new wife is called Penny, which amuses the much older but still not very grown up man-boy, but not his dad when he reminds him of it.

The young boy used to fish in the river behind his house that was a shop at the bottom a lot. He would often walk up the road and buy maggots for bait. He (the young boy) used to put the maggots in the bin outside, until one day his mum lifted the bin lid to put some rubbish in and lots, and lots, and lots of big black flies came out. This was not the first, or the last time, that the young boys mum was cross with him, but it was the last time he put maggots in the bin.

One day, long ago, the young boy was fishing in the river behind his house that was a shop at the bottom, and the fish started to float to the top of the water, which was going blacker and blacker.

The young boy was upset, and went back to the bit of his house that was a shop, and told his mum and dad who worked in the shop (and who lived above it with their son and daughter) what had happened.

On the other side of the river that the young boy used to fish in, and loved to wade across in his bare feet and look down at the crayfish in the water and the fish he used to try and catch, was a factory. This factory had leaked some chemicals into the river which had poisoned the water and killed all the fish. The young boy never fished in that river again.

A Blog About An Art Gallery

I spent an hour or so the other day (Friday actually if you must know) chatting to an ex work colleague and all round good egg Lucy Hook-Child, she of the double barrelled surname and 100% Essex blood running through her veins. Well where else would you expect her blood to run? I ask you.
Lucy has recently opened a new gallery and I was keen to find out a bit more about it. So I paid her a visit and demanded some answers. Well what else is an intrepid blogger, aka nosey bugger, supposed to do?
The gallery in question is called  Hazel Gallery, named after her Nana, a keen artist herself who, coincidentally, was also called Hazel (Not Gallery). Lucy used to spend summer holidays at Nana Hazel's house and was encouraged to take part in her various artistic interests, painting and crafts. Her love of art began here. This inspired her to study for her GNVQ in Art and Design and then a degree at Colchester Institute graduating in 2000. Lucy then worked at Colchester Library where I first knew her (and also knew her Mum and younger sister as they used to visit the mobile library), and a new age shop The Cusp. After a spell of teacher training in Bristol Lucy returned in 2007 to teach on the GNVQ art course back at Colchester Institute until early in 2013 when, faced with reapplying for the job she was already doing saw it as an opportunity to follow her heart and made   the courageous decision to say thanks all the same but no thanks.                                                             
She spent the summer, and her redundancy money, setting up Hazel Gallery in an old newspaper kiosk that used to form part of the also redundant bus station in Colchester, right next to the old waiting room/café. I used to wait for my bus there, many years ago. And more than likely bought a paper or two and some sweets from the kiosk itself  (and probably the odd packet of fags, but don't tell anyone).
It's now a new community initiative designed to regenerate the area from the ground up, by involving the local community, under the banner of St Botolph's Waiting Room or just the Waiting Room, if you want to be informal. And I know you do. It's all very exciting. And there is a magnificent view of the new firstsite gallery and a big red London bus.
She has added a complete new open frontage and inside is a feast of art, Cards, paintings, handmade gifts, bound journals and some of her own work. Well you would, wouldn't you.
Lucy also has her own studio at Cuckoo Farm where her lovely artworks are born. Lucy is a mixed media artist inspired by nature, the environment and music. All stemming from growing up in the countryside and long hours spent admiring trees and the moon.
Oh, and bye the bye, not content with all the above for talent, commitment and general all round clever clogginess (I made that word up),  Lucy also happens to have her Level 1 BSL, that's British Sign Language to you and me. Crikey!
You need to get yourselves down there don't you, for a good look and to do some Christmas shopping. Hazel gallery is open Tuesdays to Saturdays 10am - 6pm. And for good measure this Saturday is the Christmas Art Fair with 'art, craft, vintage and acoustic music all day'. So it's telly off and shopping bags on.

And when you're there, as I know you will be, say hi from me.

Nuff said.

As Easy As A to Z

Written at Write Night on 23 September 2013, in a lovely room at Firstsite gallery. The exercise was to create a two person script, each sentence having to begin with the letters of the alphabet working through in order from A to Z. We had about half an hour. With a bit of creative licence I seemed to manage. What do you think.

1.   Albert I was wondering about that fish.

2.   Bugger me woman will you stop going on about it.

1.   Clare down the road said she saw it flapping about in your pocket and you had a big silly grin on your face.

2.   Don't you go believing  everything that Clare woman says, woman. Even you said that yourself.

1.   Flippin hell Albert - of all people - you're the one with the tendency to bend the truth.

2.   Get away with you woman, she's been imagining things.

1.   How many times am I going to have to ask you Albert about that fish?

2.   I really don't know - until you get fed up I s'pose.

1.   Just let me ask you one last time then Albert.

2.   Knowing your last times woman this could go on all night.

1.   Laugh as much as you like Albert, we both know you took it  down the pub.

2.   Merciful angels woman why would I want to go and do a thing like that?

1.   Not for the first time in this relationship Albert I have no idea why you do most of the things you do.

2.   Oh I see that's how it is, is it?

1.   Perhaps it is Albert but you are still avoiding answering my question.

2.   Questions, questions, that's all I ever get is questions. Ridiculous questions.

1.   So why not try answering them then Albert. Tell me about that fish. Unless you just want to keep avoiding the issue.

2.   Very well then, but you won't believe me.

1.   Well it's about time, what did you do with it then?

2.   Xander wanted to add it to his collection so I said he could have it.

1.   You didn't give it to that old fart Xander, of all people.

2.   Zoo was shut, what else was I s'posed to do with it.