Back to School: Drawing and Watercolour Painting

Though I was never formally trained in any artistic medium, I did attend a few weekend classes with a moderately successful Soviet and Latvian artist when I was a child. Of course, my incredibly talented grandmother was the breakout star of those sessions, and we still proudly display her works around the house.

Over lockdown, I decided to return to painting, and rediscovered my love for watercolours. I spent endless afternoons watching tutorials, copying photographs, and attempting to replicate masterpieces. Some worked, some didn’t, but I began feeling more and more confident in my skills.

Then, I got a dog. Though I would allocate time for myself to paint, the general neediness of this tiny puppy prevented me from doing more than a few sketches here and there. And without the guidance of my YouTube teachers, I was disappointed in the results.

So I looked up some classes in the area. Luckily, a Drawing and Watercolour Painting course was about to start at a nearby college. After a few days’ deliberation, I signed up. Yesterday was my first lesson.

While I don’t dispute the fact that I need to learn the basics before pursuing more complex exercises, I felt a bit underwhelmed by the instructor’s one hour session on what type of paper to buy. That being said, we did discuss the colour palette, explore gradient shading, and set learning goals, so not all was lost.

There’s lots to learn, so hopefully the course proves useful. I’m expecting that by next summer, I should be able to take my portable easel out to the park and paint without worrying that my clouds or trees look rather suspect.

Travels through Surrey: Banstead Woods

It almost doesn’t feel like the end of September. You can smell the autumn chill in the air, but the weather these past few days has been lovely (morning shower excepted).

We’ve just bought a new motorcycle, so no trips around the country or hotel stays for a while, but we did venture further south into a lovely place called Chipstead – chosen for the name, of course.

There we discovered Banstead Woods and the Chipstead Downs Local Nature Reserve. We ended up walking more than 10km, but I don’t think we explored even half of it.

There was what I have now discovered to be a Narnia walk, though I perceived the White Witch to be a spirit of the forest. Chip brought her a stick, which I thought was a suitable tribute.

The lesson here is that you don’t always need to go far to find the adventure you seek.

Review: The Magic Flute, Rigoletto

Whenever I go to the opera, it seems to be in batches of two. In July, I went to La bohème and Don Giovanni. On Friday, I had amazing seats to The Magic Flute and then yesterday enjoyed Rigoletto.

I love opera, but I can’t claim to be any sort of expert. That said, I can clearly differentiate between a fantastic production and a mediocre one. And while I’ve seen many operas throughout the years, it’s very rare to have been completely blown away.

The ones that stand out are unexpected: the gala concert of the Sigulda Opera Festival, an intimate performance in a Roman church, a rehearsal at La Scala, a video recording of The Marriage of Figaro from Glyndebourne, and now – Rigoletto at the Royal Opera House.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I first saw The Magic Flute for the very first time, having scored comparatively cheap tickets in the third row. I didn’t know the story beforehand, only some of the music, so I was more than a little outraged as what I regarded as blatant sexism.

Of course, it was another time. And it did finish on a positive note, with Pamina having undergone the same trials as Tamino and being initiated into the Order alongside him. So, on reflection, perhaps not everything is as black and white as would first appear.

Rigoletto I also saw for the first time, though I’d heard a few of the arias before. Something felt different about this production.

The staging was grandiose but minimal, allowing the audience to focus on the performances. There weren’t any elements that felt out of place, unlike The Magic Flute, which for some reason chose to dress Papagena in bright pink modern clothes, completely incongruent to the other characters, most of whom were wearing something cross between a fairytale and vaguely Germanic folk costumes.

Not only was I enthralled by the story of Rigoletto himself – audibly gasping when it was revealed that he has a daughter – but the singers chosen for each role were phenomenal. I felt the characters’ emotions. The Duke, Rigoletto, and Sparafucile were sympathetic and morally repugnant all at once.

But there was no one shining as brightly, or singing as beautifully, as Lisette Oropesa in the role of Gilda. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I hadn’t heard of her before, but she’s unsurprisingly a huge talent – and a vegan marathoner to boot!

All in all, two hugely enjoyable evenings. I’m now looking forward to The Marriage of Figaro in January, but I’m sure the Royal Opera House can tempt me into buying tickets to some of its earlier shows with ease. Stay tuned!

Travels through the Cotswolds: Burford, Windrush

It can’t rain all the time. But neither can the sun shine every time we set out for an adventure.

I’d booked a weekend getaway to the Cotswolds on a whim. It didn’t seem prohibitively expensive, or maybe it was just that the hotel I found wasn’t charging £400 a night like the rest of them.

I was looking forward to it. Counting down the days, in fact. My partner and I had both had good weeks, the dog was behaving, what could possibly go wrong?

We set off slightly later than usual and got stuck in traffic. No matter. We got to the hotel in the end, and even though it was right off the motorway, we enjoyed the secluded garden.

There weren’t any vegan mains on the menu, but I’m not fussy, I made do with the beetroot soup starter.

We then set off for a walk. The smell of sewage left a lot more to be desired, of course, but we pushed through.

It’s probably my fault for not scrutinising the route more thoroughly, but I definitely didn’t expect it to take us along the side of a road with no pavements.

We kept thinking it would get easier once we got to the fields, but the puppy must’ve been so stressed from the cars speeding by that he wouldn’t stop pulling the lead.

On top of everything, we’d miscalculated how long the walk would take and ended up exhausting both ourselves and the dog.

We did have a nice dinner – no vegan options, but I again made do with a vegetable soup – and hoped the exhausting day would ensure he sleeps through the night.

No such luck. All the dogs in the hotel could probably smell each other, because a chorus of barking would break out every hour or so. In other words, we weren’t the only sleep deprived couple at breakfast the next morning.

Again, no vegan options, but by this point, I was willing to compromise my principles and eat some pancakes that most likely had egg in them.

By the time we finished, it was pissing it down. We decided not to fall victim to the sunk cost fallacy and headed home. Along the way, we admired the beautiful villages we hadn’t visited from the comfort of the car.

The puppy, meanwhile, slept the entire three hours home. Bastard.

Book(s) of the Year: What I’ve Read So Far in 2021

Reading is powerful. And somehow, the right book finds you at the time you need it most. I’ve just finished my 20th book of the year, and thought that it might be time to record my thoughts on the things I’ve learned from each.

I’ve included them all, even the embarrassing ones. Who knows, maybe it will help you choose your next book!

The Spare Bedroom by Elizabeth Neep

I can’t explain why I picked up this book, but I guess I was looking for something easy and enjoyable. This wasn’t it. Though I was tempted to abandon reading it multiple times, I somehow pushed through. It was painful. The main character was unsympathetic, and the surrounding cast came across as caricatures. But hey, she learned in the end, so I suppose that counts for something. 1/5

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The plot immediately drew me in, but something always felt off. I think part of the reason this novel proved popular is the fact that it tells a “white saviour” story, which is digestible to a mass market audience. It glosses over a lot of the realities black women faced, and neglects to showcase positive examples of black masculinity. To its credit, it did spark dialogue about collective recollections and the importance of perspective. 3/5

Women Don’t Owe You Pretty by Florence Given

I find this book fascinating on many levels. It’s almost like pop art, with its loud, prescriptive narrative. It’s a glimpse into the mind of peak Gen Z – self-righteous, somewhat patronising, and more than a little immature. But as a very superficial introduction to intersectional feminist discourse, it does the job. 3/5

Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine

If some books find you at the right time, others take time. I had been attempting to finish this book for years now, and I’m very glad I kept coming back to it. One of the most important takeaways is to investigate information presented as facts, as the reality is likely to be much more subjective. It’s crucial to remain acutely aware of how our performance of gender influences perception, remembering that pervasive stereotypes can often be self-perpetuating. 5/5

Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport

I managed to snag a copy of this book from the Kindle store for 99p. Best 99p I ever spent. The main idea is simple – consider how you’re using the digital resources available and cut out anything that doesn’t add value. But the way Cal Newport structures his arguments, supporting each with historical, philosophical, and personal examples, makes for an enjoyable read. 5/5

Burnout by Amelia and Emily Nagoski

This book tried to present an argument for how women experience stress differently than men, and while some examples rang true, I feel that, on the whole, it fell short. Maybe the style wasn’t quite to my liking. There were a lot of convoluted metaphors intended to be relatable, but I just found them grating. 2/5

Zuleikha Opens Her Eyes by Guzel Yakhina

I didn’t think I’d particularly enjoy what would, on first glance, appear to be a story of ceaseless suffering in the pre-war Soviet Union. But this book captures the resilience of the human spirit, a true homage to the victims of Stalinist repressions. Each character comes alive so vividly that even if I disagree with their actions, I can sympathise with their predicament. 5/5

Essentialism by Greg McKeown

I can’t really remember this one. I think it was something to do with focussing on the things that will bring you closer to your goals, rather than the many trivialities that surround you. But the problem is that most jobs require some level of multitasking, it’s just that each of us needs to identify where our time is most effectively spent. And, well, that’s just common sense. 2/5

The Gods Always Travel Incognito by Laurent Gounelle

After reading The Midnight Library, I’m reflecting on how a similar theme is developed in two different ways. In this, the main character entrusts his life decisions to someone else in the pursuit of happiness, while in the other, the protagonist seeks happiness by trying on different lives. Definitely a thought-provoking book, but requires a significant suspension of disbelief. 4/5

Dominicana by Angie Cruz

This book was a window into another world, a life so dramatically removed from my own, and yet there was something acutely relatable about the immigrant experience. That said, there’s many an immigrant tale that follows this same script, and the novel falls a little flat. Despite the violence, the narrative doesn’t enrage us, which is concerning. 3/5

Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams

I’m not sure this book knew what it wanted to say. Gentrification is changing the fabric of London, a topic tackled brilliantly by black writers such as Arinze Kene, but here meant that Queenie was surprised to see a Brixton burger joint instead of a Jamaican bakery. Though sympathetic, the main character was largely a mess, echoing problematic stereotypes and making it hard to relate. 2/5

West with Giraffes by Lynda Rutledge Stephenson

I loved this book. The author created a compelling fiction around the true story of transporting giraffes across America during the Great Depression. It was impossible not to share the awe the main character experiences when he first sets eyes on the magnificent creatures, as well as every emotion that follows. 5/5

Sex Robots and Vegan Meat by Jenny Kleeman

Yes, I bought the book for its catchy title. Luckily, it had substance. The author has serious ethical concerns about how technological progress is reimagining fundamental aspects of life itself, namely food, sex, birth, and death. From the moral implications of artificial intelligence in a robot designed for sexual servitude to whether we should be able to end our life by choice, it’s a gripping read. 4/5

The Frequency of Us by Keith Stuart

The characters seemed a little underdeveloped to me, and the female love interest never really took shape in my mind. I couldn’t understand her motivations, which affected the way I interpreted the love story. I suppose relationships were different during the war. The idea itself was poetic, and the plot twists were fairly original. 3/5

Before the coffee gets cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

Perhaps I’m generalising, but all the Japanese authors I’ve read have managed to infuse the mundane with magic realism in such a way as to make a poignant statement on the human condition. This was no exception. And you’re left with the question of whether what you deem important right now going to matter in the grand scheme of things. 4/5

The Road Trip by Beth O’Leary

Much like the first book in this list, the other “romantic comedy” I read this year was disappointing. Maybe it’s not my genre? I had liked the author’s previous two books, which put a quirky spin on the usual set-up, so I was hoping for something more. This time around, it seemed like she took inspiration from Normal People, but lacked the depth and development. The characters were entirely unbearable and their actions unrealistic. So there’s that. 2/5

So Good They Can’t Ignore You by Cal Newport

As I later learned from TED Talks, to intrigue your audience, you need to take a commonly accepted concept and turn it on its head. Cal Newport does this beautifully by rejecting the idea that following your dreams will make you happy, arguing that we should instead focus on achieving mastery and acquiring career capital. Solid advice, in my view. 5/5

The Joke by Milan Kundera

Whenever I read something from Milan Kundera, I feel as though I’m reading the same book over and over again. And yet, I can’t get enough, the philosophical musings echoing in my mind for weeks, months, even years. The Joke was his first novel, based loosely on his own experience of being ousted from the Czechoslovakian Communist Party. 4/5

TED Talks: The Official TED Guide to Public Speaking by Chris Anderson

I have a public presentation coming up at the end of next week, so I wanted to get some pointers on how to structure my speech. I’m lucky enough to have creative control over my topic, so I can benefit from some of the strategies, but I do find that the suggested approach is restrictive. It wouldn’t work for a conference, for instance. Or with questions from the audience. 2/5

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

This was a page turner. I even stayed up past my bedtime last night to finish it, which is saying a lot. Playing on the idea that infinite versions of our lives exist in parallel, the book philosophises about meaning, happiness, and what it means to be successful. I haven’t fully digested yet, but I suppose the idea is that our lives are closely interwoven and each of us matters more than we may think. 4/5

So there you have it, my goal of reading 20 books in 2021 is complete, and it’s only midway through September. That’s not to say I’ll slow down, of course. I’ll aim even higher in 2022!

Travels through East Sussex: Battle Woodland Circular

Battle, named so for its role in the Battle of Hastings, is a charming village in East Sussex. It was here that William the Conqueror defeated the English in 1066, heralding a new era. Norman culture spread, binding England closer to Europe. And, of course, Anglo-Saxon mixed with Norman French to become English as we know it.

We were actually headed to Hastings when we decided to stop by the intriguingly named Battle. We weren’t disappointed. Not only did we exhaust our dog on the 7.7km Battle Woodland Circular (don’t worry, he got carried around like the spoiled pooch he is), but we enjoyed free entrance to the Battle Abbey, courtesy of our English Heritage membership.

The abbey itself was founded in 1071 to commemorate the victory and atone for the dead. It stood and prospered until the 16th century, when Henry VIII began suppressing monasteries and granting the surrounding estates to his friends and allies. In the centuries since, much of the abbey is in ruins, but English Heritage has capitalised on the nearly 1000-year history to make an enthralling exhibition.

We saw the battlefield where Harold fell, rose to the gatehouse roof overlooking the village, startled some sheep in the walled garden, and explored the crypts. And finished off this amazing adventure with a lovely meal at the oldest pub in town. If you’re ever in the area, I fully recommend going to Battle (and yes, pun fully intended).