via youtube.com
Partly from a photo - I was feeling my way with gradations, different tools etc. Final isn't a bad likeness though.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunset Besozzo using 'Brushes' on Ipod Touch.
via youtube.com
Using 'Brushes' on Ipod Touch. Sketched from a window at sunset, late October. Lake Maggiore is hidden by the trees in the foreground.
Maggiore sketch
via youtube.com
My first attempt with ipod 'Brushes' app in the open air when I was in Italy last week. It runs a bit fast but gives some idea of my approach.
iPhone Brushes app... Here's an expert
This guy made it look easy. It's not too difficult to get started but lots of practice needed....
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wonderful places, Wonderful names: A visit to Squividan and the paintings of Emile Simon and Madeleine Fié-Fieux (pronounce "Fee-ay-Fee-uh")
Ane extraordinary pair of Bretonne painters - pretty-well unknown as they had no need to sell their art and simply kept it at home at Squividan. When Madeleine died in 1995 at the age of 98, she bequeathed everything to the département of Finistère.
This summer, 2009, some of the works were put on show to the public in a small gallery attached to the manor house for the first time.
If you can read French, here is a reference:
Here's a summaryof their biographies (I haven't found one in English yet so the translation is mine):
Emile Simon and Madeleine Fié-Fieux lived and painted together in and around their home at Squividan in the commune of Clohars-Fouesnant, Finistère. They were attracted by the local countryside, architecture, traditional costumes and customs and recorded these in oil-paint.
Eventually, over 1500 works were amassed at the manor and left to the département, i.e. the nation and the world at large.
In 2009 the manor was openend to the public for the first time.
Emile Simon was born at Rennes, 28 February 1890 to a 'modest' family - father a printer and mother, dressmaker. He obtained a school diploma in Beaux-Arts and a bursary to study art in Paris in 1908. He further obtained the 'Prix du concours de Rome' (prize, enabling him to travel and study in Rome) but was persuaded to give up his place to an older pupil, hoping to go the following year. However, in 1913 he appeared to have gained a post as a professer in Cairo, only to be clalled-up (mobilised) at the beginning of WW1 so went back to France.
Incredibly, he was unfortunate to be taken gravely ill with the notorious 'Spanish 'flu' in 1917 and was invalided out of the army. Back at the family home in Rennes, he found manual work in order to support his family.
In 1921 we find him again as a professor of art in Nantes at which time he lost his left eye in a motoring accident. He married later that decade but in 1930, was already a widower and living with his mother at Nantes.
Several notable paintings and by him are recorded in the 1930s.
WW2 commenced and in 1943 moved to Quimper to avoid bombardments with a married couple, Philippe and Madeleine Fié-Fieux. Philippe was a wealthy dental surgeon. By 1945 he had obtained the post of Director of the school of fine arts at Nantes and in 1947 they all moved in to the Manor Squividan.
At some time a little later it appears that Madeleine became a widow. Emile and Madeleine stayed togrther at Squividan for the next 30 years, painting all the while. Their relationship during this time is not totally clear. Emile Simon died in 1976, painting with his left hand for the last 4 years of his life, having suffered a stroke in 1972.
In fact, Madeleine was his pupil back in Nantes, possibly before the commencement of WW2. Born in 1897, she came from a wealthy family and was a gifted potraitist. After Emile died, she took it upon herself to conserve his works, continued to paint, and died in 1995, leaving everything to the Conseil général, Finistère.
One of Emile's paintings of Madeleine - painting.
Lovely light.
Superb technique.We stumbled across all this last Friday. A small gallery with 30 or so works is now open and in 3 years' time the manor itself will have been renovated, open to the public and many more of their works will be available.
His works are incredibly attractive, nearly always done outside 'on the spot' and apparently, never reworked. Beautifully cleaned and restored, for me they are of among some the most inspiring and emotive works I have ever seen.
Michael Durant
WEBSITE: www.artsargentat.com
FLICKR: www.flickr.com/photos/mapmaker
POSTEROUS: http://mapmaker.posterous.com/
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The latest Restaurant deco panel is nearly finished.
.. I hope they don't mind being associated with a crumbling ruin. I rather like the wall effects, but will they?
Michael Durant
WEBSITE: www.artsargentat.com
FLICKR: www.flickr.com/photos/mapmaker
POSTEROUS: http://mapmaker.posterous.com/
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Blighted Blighty- a brief visit to the Motherland
Here's my earlier post which was diverted because I used one of my own email addresses that was not logged with Posterous - Thanks Posterous for sorting this out.
We're on our way home on the ferry, 1 hour out of Portsmouth. Overall, the weather was pretty mediocre, definitely not summery. The wind blew with a vengeance every day. August 30th, 'Bank holiday Sunday' was appalling- cold enough to switch on the central heating. OK, we're English and we know what to expect in that department but as always, there was hope. No joy this time.
Highlight as always was friends and family. Nadir, also as always, was trying to move around in the turgid traffic systems with any degree of certainty.
For some years now it has been impossible to plan a journey in the UK to any sort of reliable timetable. This time was no exception and, as a final example, we caught this ferry by the skin of our teeth.
Rant coming up:...
For those who know the New Forest, that green oasis in central southern England, it was the village of Lyndhurst, the putative pearl in it's bosom, which was the final protagonist in our tragi-comedy of a journey earlier this afternoon. In short, this crossroads of two major road systems nearly caused our downfall. Four miles of jams just because of those damn' traffic lights in the middle of the village. I know this area; it's been like this for 50 years, no exaggeration. Why no relief road? You tell me. I you want to get a country moving, you see to the infrastructure, particularly the road system. You don't bury your head in the sand and simply allow the numbers of road users to continue to increase while doing nothing to accommodate them. Where are the people looking to the future? Who hears them when they say we must have more roads, expand our rail network?
For those who know the New Forest, that green oasis in central southern England, it was the village of Lyndhurst, the putative pearl in it's bosom, which was the final protagonist in our tragi-comedy of a journey earlier this afternoon. In short, this crossroads of two major road systems nearly caused our downfall. Four miles of jams just because of those damn' traffic lights in the middle of the village. I know this area; it's been like this for 50 years, no exaggeration. Why no relief road? You tell me. I you want to get a country moving, you see to the infrastructure, particularly the road system. You don't bury your head in the sand and simply allow the numbers of road users to continue to increase while doing nothing to accommodate them. Where are the people looking to the future? Who hears them when they say we must have more roads, expand our rail network?
As for general maintenance of public ameneties, road signs, state of the road verges, roadside drain clearance, road surface repairs and replacement, rubbish clearance.......... What's (not) happenning, UK?
There was a lot more of this rant but I've cut it down, now I'm back home in France. Don't want to upset my English friends and family but someone should at least say something from time to time to point out that UK "could do better" - as they used to say on our school reports.
Tailnote: Drove into our home town here in France on Wednesday afternoon on the final leg of the journey. Confronted with road signs directing us around the BYPASS as the road through town was being RESURFACED. There was nothing obviously wrong with the old road surface but it was time to carry out the SCHEDULED PERIODIC MAINTENANCE program. Polite signs everywhere apologising for the inconvenience alongside another new sign stating PLAN DE ANTICRISE ('anti-crisis'). This is what the French State, departments (counties) and Regions have devised to pump money into the economy by improving the infrastructure, creating work and helping to secure a future for its citizens.
Michael Durant
WEBSITE: www.artsargentat.com
FLICKR: www.flickr.com/photos/mapmaker
POSTEROUS: http://mapmaker.posterous.com/
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Fossil Rock found in a French Barn
Last night an amazing find was made in an ancient barn, deep in the French countryside on the western slopes of the Auvergne.
'Fossil Rock' performed their first evening gig on the occasion of Louise's birthday.
The picture shows the scene at the actual moment of discovery. Later, visitors and guests where able to sample the effects of this remarkable exposure to the light, at which point loud noises were heard, approximating to those remembered by the older members of the public present, from the days when popular music only needed three chords to get itself into the charts.
Rumours have since been rife that other discoveries of this nature may be made in locations nearby in the near future.
Michael Durant
WEBSITE: www.artsargentat.com
FLICKR: www.flickr.com/photos/mapmaker
POSTEROUS: http://mapmaker.posterous.com/
Friday, August 21, 2009
Art is solitary, music is not
At the risk of being accused of stating the bleedin' obvious, I have just arrived at this conclusion. To practise the art of painting or drawing you must do it alone. To make music, you do it with others.
It's late in the evening and I've just seen a great 'prom' concert on the BBC. The precision pumping of the bows of the violins and cellos was mesmerising - all those musicians moving as one. I've been painting all week and spent the afternoon and evening playing fossilised rock with friends at a wonderful birthday party. I've enjoyed it all, the one, alone and the other with my fellow musicians.
Hence the revelation.
Time for bed.
Sent from my iPod
It's late in the evening and I've just seen a great 'prom' concert on the BBC. The precision pumping of the bows of the violins and cellos was mesmerising - all those musicians moving as one. I've been painting all week and spent the afternoon and evening playing fossilised rock with friends at a wonderful birthday party. I've enjoyed it all, the one, alone and the other with my fellow musicians.
Hence the revelation.
Time for bed.
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Using Posterous with my existing blog
This post should now show up in my existing 'Xaintrie' blog as well as Twitter and Posterous, so it's a sort of test.
I confess, Posterous is looking good and easy - using only an email to do this is a stroke of genius.
Michael Durant
WEBSITE: www.artsargentat.com
FLICKR: www.flickr.com/photos/mapmaker
POSTEROUS: http://mapmaker.posterous.com/
Monday, July 20, 2009
What you Will
Shakespeare used the alternative title "What You Will" to his play Twelth Night. Apparently he had some problems dreaming-up titles for some of his works, a common malaise even to this day. Back at the beginning of June this year this same dilemma descended on five friends here in deepest France when we decided to form a rock group - as you do, and had to call ourselves something. 
First ideas were crass. As our average age is (subject to verification) 61.8 years, we've currently settled on "Fossilised Rock". Opinions are divided still, principally along the line which separates us, the 'boys', from our spouses. We think it suits us as we don't want to take ourselves too seriously.
Our wives, who know only too well how appallingly rough we sound at present, have expressed dismay at the self-deprecating tone in this name; a bit of a pleasant surprise I suppose as normal reaction to wrinkly men playing young men's games has tended to be rather more disparaging.
Ah well, it should keep us out of mischief.
For the interested (or intrigued, incredulous), we're attempting stuff up to 50 years old - Elvis, Buddy Holly, The Everly Brothers, The Shadows. Also some 'newer' stuff by Dylan, The Eagles. Next stop: some bluesey Clapton perhaps, but not until we can get through our initial repertoire (9 numbers would you believe) without too many hitches.
Don't laugh, it's rude. One day I'll maybe put an audio file on this blog - but that's not a promise...
Mapmaker
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Dordogne and Ducks
Twenty-first of May was ascension day- a holiday in France, not to mention our wedding anniversary, so we went for drive into the outer edges of Dordogneshire.
True, we live in the upper Dordogne valley but we consider ourselves, literally, a cut above the immigrant Brits who inhabit the lower Dordogne, from Souillac, through Bergerac, westwards to the Gironde. All nonsense of course, but we do feel slightly smug about it. We have more room here; we're more thinly spread, our terrain is more rufty-tufty, we know how to tough- out our more severe winter cold snaps, our summers are more, well, clement- and so on. As a softy-Brit Southerner (raised in the Bournemouth area- never seen a decent blizzard), I'm ashamed to say I've come across this before of course but in reverse, in our former life in the UK, from our friends in the north whom we used to think crass for using these arguments to somehow prove their superiority.
Ah well, human nature and all that.....We visited Sarlat and Domme- wonderful towns in inimmitable surroundings. Sarlat is a truly medieaval survivor, built from soft Dordogne limestone. The town has a unique charm and intimacy, despite the crowds there on that feast-day having a jolly time in the streets under warm, spring sunshine. We had a coffee outside the Town Hall in a lively street in the town's centre, entertained by a wandering sort-of-trad-jazz band who blasted their repertoire over the heads of the throng against the background commentary of the day's master-of-ceremonies - a man somewhere nearby with a microphone linked to the speaker system in the streets. He spent the whole time we were there talking about ducks; how to feed them in preparation for the subsequent culinary delight of killing them, plucking them, 'emptying' them (literal English translation for the French for 'disembowel'), cutting them up and then the recipes. Finally he came to the famous foie-gras explanations and our favourite potato dish, Pommes Sarladaise, named after the town (potatoes cooked in duck-fat).
Domme is not far away. Stick to this link to find out about this village - as some of you, I'm almost sure, would know that the word has another meaning... (click here if your curiosity compels you).
I've been pretty slow on the blog-front in the last couple of months, I know. Summer's here and the warm, dry weather has brought other attractions and time-fillers. We've had our euro-election too, since the last blog and we voted for the first time in France. Fascinating. Favoured candidate paper flyer is sealed in a plain brown envelope and dropped into a totally transparent ballot box, manned by a smiling man who operates the shutter on the posting slot. He was pretty quick - get your fingers out of the way,- smartish. My man didn't do too well, but hey, vive l' europe!
Mapmaker
Monday, May 18, 2009
Going Dutch
I've just spent two weeks in Holland, my first visit to the country. This is my excuse for my inactivity, blogwise; the last blog was over a month ago. I did keep some notes though so that the red-hot observations could be regurgitated here for my faithful readers, if they exist (or existed). I wrote them rapidly, convinced that I would be able to recall in vivid detail and full technicolour the on-the-spot sensations and emotions. It hasn't worked as well as I'd hoped, (this is trying to tell me something: I'm not cut out to be a writer) so you'll get the notes themselves, mostly. Besides, this is supposed to be the 'Xaintrie Blog' - news and views from this corner of south-west France, so I won't ramble-on too much about the trip...
Yet, across the road from the modern you will see the ancient in all its charm.
It's still true about the windmills - there are thousands of them, but now these new ones are turbines, producing energy rather than pumping water to form the polders as in former times.
Time to get back to Xaintrie..
Xaintrie and Holland couldn't be more different. However, contrasts are always interesting and often generate waves of reaction or similar responses.
Amsterdam is a magnificent showcase of architecture and environment, stuffed full of contradictions; seventeenth century houses overlooked by twenty-first century tower cranes undertaking the city's never-ending renewal.
The construction-site picture here shows an example of the first images of central Amsterdam when arriving by train. There's an awful lot of this, particularly around the central station area.
Yet, across the road from the modern you will see the ancient in all its charm.We stayed with friends in a new-town, 30 kilometres east of Amsterdam. First impressions here were that nothing seemed to be more than thirty years old and this turned out to be true. The town of Almere was seabed in the 1960s and in fact, the first house there was finished as late as 1976.
Spacious and green and very flat, it was, for me, a fascinating place - not least because of its modernity. For example, most of the domestic housing was heated by cooling water from power stations some 20 kilometres away, and future developments at Almere Poort will benefit from the world's third largest solar energy installation.
One of our first excursions was to a country park which houses the Kröller-Müller museum and art gallery. Follow the link for full info, but it is a wonderful place, reached by optionally leaving your car at the park gates then riding a bicycle for a couple of kilometres to the actual gallery and sculpture park.
The gallery contains over 200 Van Gogh and other impressionist paintings, in a calm, rural setting which seemed to us far preferable to the scramble back in Amsterdam to get into the Van Gogh museum there. We didn't manage that anyway due to waiting times and booking restrictions.
By the end of the first week we'd seen more of the countryside and set off for three nights on the isle of Texel, stopping to see the cheese market at the old town of Alkmaar on the way. The famous cheese market at Alkmaar seems to be a rather stage-managed affair but thousands of tourists turn up and it makes for a lively few hours in a pretty town with a picturesque if a bit scary trip on a boat around the canal system, where you have to literally get down on your knees to pass under the bridges.
Texel is a fascinating 25 kilometre-long island, a populated large sand-bank in the North Sea with quaint villages, lush green, flat(!) meadows, sand-dunes and home to the world renowned Texel sheep. We spent 3 nights there, one evening entertained by a famous Jazz trio (Borstlap, Bennink and Glerum) at the Klif 12 Music Club, in the village of Den Hoorn. Good jazz - click on their websites, a revelation...It's still true about the windmills - there are thousands of them, but now these new ones are turbines, producing energy rather than pumping water to form the polders as in former times.
We were in Amsterdam again on the Queen's birthday, 'Queensday', 30th April. This is a unique experience where up to 1 million visitors cram into the streets and on the canals in all sorts of floating craft and go crazy. Here's someone else's blog on this. Well behaved fun in the sunshine, no problems. We didn't even see a policeman until we got back to the Central Station to find our train at the end of the afternoon where we came across a couple of mounted cops, chatting amiably with the some of the crowd.
Time to get back to Xaintrie..
This blog is long enough - more soon.
Mapmaker
Monday, April 13, 2009
Back from Blighty
I must be getting old. The word 'Blighty' came to mind immediately as I considered a title for this post. Click on it to read Wiki's explanation of its derivation..
In fact we arrived back here last week. I tapped out the gist of this blog on my new Ipod-touch while we were there - I've been longing to get my hands on one for some time and the current exchange rate between the pound and the euro finally tipped the balance. Apple, in their wisdom, have not changed the euro price of them since there were 1.5 euros to the pound and now the two are practically at parity giving a 50 euro saving. Not a great excuse I suppose - I ought to be able to justify it in some other way and I think I can (to myself). Suffice to say here that it's a lot, lot better than sliced bread.
Cultural difference noted on the return journey: Notice in gents toilet at Portsmouth ferry terminal: "Please note. These toilets may be cleaned by male or female cleaners". Equivalent in France - female mopping around your feet while you pee.
'Bt openzone' was active at the motorway service station - free, thanks to 'Roadchef' as a 'special' for their customers. Great! I can blog a bit while drinking my coffee. Not to be - supposed to be free after registering name and email address etc. but I couldn't log in, even after using my father's UK address. It didn't like something. Possibly French email Address?
Sailed from Portsmouth dead on time at 2:30. Perfect April day. Fluffy cumulus stretching out eastwards, gathering into a jumbling roll over the South Downs. At first the Isle of Wight sheltered the ship from the south-westerly swell. After a couple of hours the swell rapidly settled into an almost flat calm. Learned to play Canasta with Liz. Good game, deserves more exposure.
8:30 pm-sunset with an almost full moon over the french coast and a short stub of a rainbow rising out of the razor-edge horizon, somewhere near LeHavre. One hour to go, then the 'Hotel de la Phare' at Ouistreham. We're back on what is now our home soil.
Mapmaker
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Fish and Ships
The fishing season started just a week ago, the spring equinox has now occurred in a wash of cloudless blue and yesterday the first house-martins dashed over our house. I was in the river on the first fishing day - actually hooked a fish (which fell off the hook, but no matter).
I share this bit of riverbank with our farmer-neighbour's sheep. The picture was taken this morning - it's 30 metres from our house and garden.
Before we came here, I hadn't attempted to river fish since I was a boy, but with surroundings like this, who could resist. There's even a chance on catching something big enough to make a meal.It started soon after we arrived here in 2000. My neighbour on the other side of the river loaned me a fly-rod and that was it - I was hooked. Literally, as it happens; fly-casting is something of a skill and an art and hooking oneself was a common experience at first. Now, I manage to catch more fish than clothing but the knack took some time to learn.
I was surprised to find other, obviously skilled, lifelong fishermen in the river on the first day using fly-rods, but we've had very warm weather for a couple of weeks now and there are small flying insects in the air so it was a joy to start swishing the 'canne-à-la-mouche' right from the start. I'll confess that I enjoy this activity far more than using a 'spinner' or other bait methods. It's just somehow more satisfying and even has an aesthetic appeal. Above all, you actually stalk a fish instead of plonking yourself down on a river-bank somewhere, toss in your tackle and hope some fish stumbles across it. Here, we stalk trout and grayling - nyam, nyam.
I'll have to forgo the river for a bit as it's time for our next UK trip. Family to visit- it's been six months since the last. We'll drive to Ouistreham, the port at Caen, Normandy on Tuesday, a seven or eight hour trip. After a night at the port in a small hotel (they actually give us the 4-digit code to open the main door, over the 'phone in case we arrive too late for the staff), then take the 8 am 'Brittany Ferries' boat to Portsmouth. It means six hours on the English Channel but the ships are comfortable, well run and serve good food, so the time passes easily, filled by a leisurely meal and a hundred or so pages of a good book.
I won't mind sampling a plate of English fish-and-chips either for a change.
Mapmaker
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Spring Fever
Spring has now sprung - at least for the present. Blue skies, sometime morning light frosts, birds looking at their very best as they continue to eat us out of our stocks of bird-food (mostly large sacks of loose peanuts brought from the UK as this particular bird-feed isn't available here in bulk). Snowdrops have been around for some weeks already and crocuses are in the grass.
We went to the 'Moulin de Lavergne' country-restaurant for last Sunday-lunch; haven't been for ages. Jeff-the-chef produced fantastic cuisine as ever - a four course menu (as usual) for 24 euros of a standard that deserves more recognition. Yet, he's struggling, like many, many enterprises, people are cutting back on inessential spending and, in fact, his business has been falling ever since the 'smoking ban' of over a year ago. He built a small terrace outside last spring, to try to alleviate some of the 'side effects' of this ban (see my blog 'Being one's age' last July) but it wasn't enough. Catch 22 of course - we can't afford to go there more than just once every two or three months, on special social occasions.
This morning, Sunday 1st March it seemed strangely gloomy outside. We haven't seen a cloud for days so we're not used to it. We drove down to Figeac two days ago for a day out under bright, cloudless, cornflower-blue skies, car-windows open to the sparkling air after a light frost at dawn. The drive takes less than two hours and by the time we arrived at Figeac after passing through Saint Céré, over the shimmering hills and woodlands, through Leyme and Lacapelle Marival the temperature had climbed to a warm, breezeless 15 degrees or so. We parked in the Place Vival (50 centimes for 3 hours) and took a table in full sun in front of the Bar Brasserie "La Monnaie', facing across the square to the 'Old Figeac Museum' (Musée de Vieux Figeac). It was time for an 'apero' and after half an hour sipping and sunbathing we took lunch there too (Mussels and chips - Fleur's was 'Mariniére' and mine, 'Espagnol' with chopped chorizo in the sauce). Yum.
This could get boring I know, for readers (are there any?) still under grey skies, and smacks a bit of smug-buggery.
So, au revoir.... suffice to say, Figeac is an amazing little town, on the Lot river, much of very 'Italianate' in character and well worth a detour. For us, it's a short drive from the granite massif's gorges where we live to the soft, limestone start of the midi.
Contrast is everything
Mapmaker
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Waiting for the Spring
Its over a fortnight since my last blog but then this is the quiet season - nothing much is happening. We haven't had the really bad weather that occurred recently 'up north' although the frosts persist; its been a bout 6 weeks of icy mornings this year - not usual. I'm burning much more wood than before in an attempt to save on electricity (my other form of heating) and it's working. The problem is, I'll have to find a couple more 'stere' of wood by mid March to see us through.
I have managed to re-arrange my office/studio into something rather more comfortable and un-cluttered during the frosty weather by being ruthless with unsold paintings (they haven't actually been thrown out, rather than stored in Roy's barn) and other accumulated dross (made myself take these items to the tip - a hard thing to do as I'm a hoarder). Still, there is now floor room here and even a bed for visitors...
I've also started another blog ('groan', I hear you say). The link will appear from now on, on the 'Links to try' menu. I decided to ramble about art in a slightly vain way (in both senses perhaps), partly for the reasons given in the subtitle, and partly because I've read that an 'authoritative' blog or website could eventually attract more readers and possible future commercial art activity for me. We'll see.
The fishing season starts in about three weeks - whoopee! I must dust-off the gear and buy my permit - a harbinger of Spring if ever there was one.
Mapmaker
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
TV or not TV?
I've just been surfin' around - as you do - to try to find comment on the fact that we, in the bits of Europe nearest to the United Kingdom, can access pretty-well all of British television via satellite. Not many people seem to want to discuss this, at least, to link the discussion to the raging BBC licence debate which never seems to subside. Is it because we don't want to make these particular waves?
Ravings over the pros and cons of the BBC licence fee are legion on the web. My own sentiments are equivocal; on the one hand I think the service on the whole is excellent and the programs generally better than any other service I've seen, and worth paying for. On the other hand, why, I ask myself, do the BBC make it so easy for the whole of Europe to watch their stuff for free by satellite. Knowing what I know now about picking up the transmissions here in south-west France, not to mention all the regional channels, ITV channels, Channels 4 and 5, etc. etc. etc., I'd be anti-paying the licence too if I were still in the UK.
Just look at the coverage (the satellite 'footprint'): It means that even this far south, you get a perfectly good reception even with the tiny Sky-dish supplied in the UK.
You don't need to subscribe to Sky of course for the main channels or the 'freeview' channels; you don't even need a Sky 'digibox'. A digital satellite receiver bought off the shelf in the local supermarket here for 60 euros or so will do the trick. Even our son in northern Italy gets perfect reception with a 1 metre dish.
What is this all about, auntie BBC? Or should I address this question to the British government? You can't prevent hundreds of thousands of us in Europe watching all your channels for free while the law in the UK makes anyone with a TV pay the licence fee. How can this be fair, to make your main source of income a UK tax on a service which can be used with impunity by anyone up to a couple of thousand miles beyond your shores?
There are few disadvantages for us. If we use a Sky digibox, we don't have to subscribe and it will continue to work for all the main channels but we might suffer a little more on reception break-down when it rains. This is often easily cured by installing a bigger dish. If we use a cheap-o receiver bought from the local supermarket, we also suffer a bit when it rains but occasionally 'lose' a channel as the frequencies are sometimes changed without warning, something the Sky-boxes seem to cope with automatically. It's a simple matter to refind lost channels by putting the receiver in 'auto-scan' mode on the Astra 2 satellite. Alternatively, all the up-to date frequencies can be found on the Internet (e.g. 'Lyngsat').
That's enough of that. Time to watch the news and, no doubt, another debate on the UK TV licence fee.
Mapmaker
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Keeping Idle Hands Busy
At last! - It's now a simple matter to start a small business here without the cumbersome and complex bureaucracy previously associated with this activity. In fact, up to now many immigrants to France, me included, have fought shy of jumping through the hoops set before us in order to start a small legitimate company or trade. There's no doubt that the 'black' activities (no, not racist; the French call illegal trading 'working on the black') of many people here, including the French themselves, have thrived simply because of the onerous registration processes and up-front tax charges which exist as a burden to all sizes of commercial enterprises. 'Sarko' seems to be making waves in all directions since his inauguration in May 2007 and this is another of his changes in order to shake France into life and increased profitability.
The instrument of change is a new category of business called an "Auto-Entrepreneur". The link shows a brief description. In fact, you can carry out the whole registration process on-line.
At the end of 2007, I was offered some work as an artist-painter, painting large acrylic scenes of early twentieth-century French rural life. These are displayed, screwed to the walls as theme-decor for a chain of franchised fast-food restaurants called 'Lapataterie', a sort of 'Spud-U-Like'. It meant producing three or four paintings a month and it had to be legitimate, so I took advantage of the services offered by the 'Maison des Artistes and registered as a professional "Artiste-Peintre'. The MDA, among other things, organises your social security payments for you in such a way as to protect you from the highs and lows associated with the life of an artist who never knows what the future might hold, income-wise. Other advantages include the non-necessity to register your business for VAT, or to use an accountant, or keep complex records of income and expenditure, and so on. The new 'Auto-Entrepreneur' category enables the same, but for anyone, doing anything.
There is a recession ringing in our ears but above this din I've just heard that for me, the new year has started with a new order for four more paintings so - so far, so good.
Mapmaker
Sunday, January 11, 2009
This Mortal Coil
Pam died two days ago. Her husband Tony has been an active member of our art group for some years, so that's how we got to know them. Obviously, this sad event focuses our thoughts on Tony and his family to whom we all offer our condolences, who have had a hard year coping with Pam's illness.
Without meaning to be morbid, I can recall that there have been at least three occasions since our arrival here in 2000 where we have been confronted with the death of a close friend and subsequently reminded of our own mortality, not to mention its actual location. The practicalities of dealing with the death of a relative or friend here are not complex, but our Anglo-Saxon attitudes will most probably mean that we'll seek the nearest crematorium. There are not many more than 100 of them in the entire country, the equivalent of one per county if this were the UK or one crematorium per half-a-million people.
Another thought occurred to me; the differences between those people one meets back in the UK or on holiday here who will say that they are "dying to live in France one day". It's those who find no problem saying that they're "living to die in France one day" who actually settle happily here.
Mapmaker
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Apocalypse 2009
The holiday season seems to have made an even briefer appearance than any other that I can remember. The Christmas decorations are still up, but will be confined to their dark drawer dungeons by the end of tomorrow; the desiccated mistletoe will be thrown out and the 80 or so cards pinned to the kitchen ceiling beams will be prised off once again and banished to the appropriate waste recycling
container. It seems a shame, particularly the fate of the greetings cards but what else can you do with them? Those with new addresses have already been copied into the address book and the one or two 'unknowns' will have to stay that way.
container. It seems a shame, particularly the fate of the greetings cards but what else can you do with them? Those with new addresses have already been copied into the address book and the one or two 'unknowns' will have to stay that way.Simon came over from Italy with the family on the 29th December. He hit a blizzard on the A89 motorway when he was less than one hour from us and spent more than three hours trapped there, finally escaping out onto the old National Route highway by means of a service road.
We exchanged a few anxious mobile 'phone calls during this episode while we waited and the dinner was put on hold. We didn't get a single snowflake during this time, 40 kilometres away but more than 500 metres lower down the valley.
And so, on into 2009...
Will life as we know it come to an end? Will it be worth making a few new years' resolutions? Will the pound fall so much against the euro that my weekly UK pension amount will be totally blown every time I go to the baker?
We'll see.
Happy New Year
Mapmaker
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