Liminal days
In the supermarket aisles, amid the scents of pumpkin spice and gingerbread, the glint of green plastic catches my eye.
A witch's mask, complete with straggly black hair and a wart or two.
It's the time of year when society at large seems to acknowledge magic on some level, albeit a ghoulish, mischievous kind. I've seen such fabulous costumes – amazing creativity and inventiveness.
There really should be good reason to dress up all year round, in my opinion!
Meanwhile, here's something I've copy-and-pasted from Wikipedia, about the origins of Halloween...
Samhain was seen as a liminal* time, when the boundary between this world and the Otherworld could more easily be crossed. This meant the Aos Si, the 'spirits' or 'fairies', could more easily come into our world. Most scholars see the Aos Sí as remnants of the pagan gods and nature spirits. At Samhain, it was believed that the Aos Sí needed to be propitiated to ensure that the people and their livestock survived the winter. Offerings of food and drink were left outside for them. The souls of the dead were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality. Feasts were had, at which the souls of dead kin were beckoned to attend and a place set at the table for them. Mumming and guising were part of the festival, and involved people going door-to-door in costume (or in disguise), often reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating, and disguising oneself from, the Aos Sí. Divination rituals and games were also a big part of the festival and often involved nuts and apples. In the late 19th century, Sir John Rhys and Sir James Frazer suggested that it was the "Celtic New Year", and this view has been repeated by some other scholars.
*Definition of 'liminal':
relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process
occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold
Pearl
A million fairies
'Wrong? Really? You know the word wrong?'
Everything isn't perfect? Everything isn't magical? Everything isn't aglow with the light of a million fairies? They were just break-lights, Parker!'
'Well excuse me for putting a good spin on a traffic jam!'
Sorry to those of you who aren't Friends fans. But I think of this scene every time I'm in a traffic jam, and it makes me smile.
I think it's possible for things to be not-perfect, but also magical at the same time.
Pearl
Magical mists
I sat in a colleague's car the other evening as she drove us home.
I listened as her windscreen wipers thrubbed steadily back and forth. Clouds of leaves scattered to the edges of the dark country lane in the glare of her headlights. I looked out of the window and saw heavy clouds of mist rolling in over the hills.
Misty Autumn mornings or evenings always seem to set the stage for some kind of magical entrance...
A figure, wrapped in heavy cloaks and walking with a six-foot tall, carved stick.
A stag, antlers aloft, pausing briefly to stare in your direction before bounding away.
A girl in a horned headdress leading a white horse.
Or in the early morning city streets, maybe a bent, elderly person pushing a wheelbarrow with a squeaky wheel and a pile of magical instruments inside it...
'Pearl?'
And then, I'm back in the car. 'Sorry, what?!'
Pearl
All that glitters
Wondering through an antiques emporium, I looked up and saw a clutch of chandeliers hanging on thick, rusted chains from a beam.
I photographed them, but somehow I wasn't able to capture what it was that they provoked in my mind – a sense of opulent fantasy... glittering intrigue... decadent riches, eccentric dinner parties.
And now I have discovered that one of my favourite film directors, Baz Luhrmann, has just gone and done all this for me in his latest project, an advertisement for a high street fashion chain. Unfortunately, in my opinion, it's the clothes they are promoting that let this little film down, but otherwise I love what he was reaching for. What do you think?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEANC3ipyws
Pearl
The magic of practice
The legendary cellist Pablo Casals was asked why he continued to practice at age 90. "Because I think I'm making progress," he replied.
Apparently, ballet dancer Margot Fonteyn once said, 'If you don't practice for one day, you notice the difference. Two days, and the other dancers notice. Three days, and the audience notices.'
Scary statistics, but it's probably true. It always takes me a little while to get back into the swing of things if I have been slack. Creative muscles need loosening and strengthening just like physical ones.
Daily practice, people – daily!
Pearl
The magic of chocolate
I've had a bit of indulgent day.
I know that tiredness is no excuse, really – they say that exercise and water is what will do the trick if you need a bit of a wake-up.
But sometimes it's more fun to reach for some chocolate.
I was talking with a friend about the importance of keeping alive a sense of childlike wonder and exploration when it comes to creativity. And I was reminded of the absolute connoisseur of both childlike wonder and chocolate – the late children's author, Roald Dahl.
I've posted a link to a little video below that will show you what I mean!
https://www.facebook.com/BBCArchive/videos/461490734223962/
Pearl
Turning up the magic
I love it when you turn the magic of you right up.
Your eyes sparkle just that little bit more.
My friend Claudia wrote that on her Facebook wall, so I asked if I could share it with you, because I think it is lovely.
But the question is – how do you do it?!
Pearl
Something from nothing
I was sorting out some laundry in the costume store at Glyndebourne.
I looked up and saw some of the Hamlet dresses hanging from their hangers, quietly minding their own business.
I stopped for a moment, because the previous day, I had seen these very same costumes on stage. Amazing, talented artistes were wearing them. They were looking spectacular and impressive under moody stage lighting. Arranged within the stage blocking, they had created a beautiful 'real-life painting'.
And now here they were - empty and needing a steam, their wrinkles lit up under bare strip lights.
It made me think about potential. About how something that seems ordinary can be transformed into something extraordinary, with a little bit of magic.
Pearl
Anecdotes of spirit
I'd seen his work a thousand times in art books, but had never thought much of it.
But sitting in front of Mark Rothko's paintings in the Tate Modern was a profound experience. Definitely magical. I could feel some kind of power emanating from the huge, looming canvases in that specially darkened room. I could hear them. (Unless that was the air conditioning.)
I can't remember if I've spoken to you about Rothko before – apologies if I have – but I came across this wonderful quote from him and was reminded of his paintings:
Art to me is an anecdote of the spirit, and the only means of making concrete the purpose of its varied quickness and stillness.
Pearl
Mark Rothko, Number 14
Playing God?
Whatever your beliefs, it's no contest – Nature is the best artist ever.
But when you're creating something, you get to play God in a tiny way.
Take creating characters for a story, for example. I am imagining some kind of science lab with bubbling cauldrons and test tubes. The writer is mixing up some kind of potion... A few drops of inspiration from a school friend or an old teacher... perhaps a teaspoon of that guy on the bus... perhaps 300ml of a singer you saw in a concert... et voila.
A whole new person who has a thing about strawberry jelly and who has to always put their left shoe on first.
Pearl
Gold sky
As I walked through a weirdly warm yet windy afternoon, I noticed the reflection of the sun in the river was a startling gold colour.
Looking up, I was intrigued and unsettled to see that orange skies were closing in, and the light was rapidly dimming. The sun was almost like a red candle flame, fluttering and lost amid swirling, sepia clouds. I wondered briefly if I had been transported to a film set – some kind of futuristic dystopian vision?
A quick search on Google enlightened me. Hurricane Ophelia had whipped up sands and debris from the Sahara, and was pulling it across UK skies.
I had to stop and look up.
I was looking at sand from the Sahara desert. In the sky. Over my town.
A reminder that this little corner of England is part of the bigger picture. That the Sahara, and other places, are real and are there even if I can't see them.
Well. It kind of blew me away.
Pearl
Light over dark
The darkening nights have become illuminated with beautiful lights.
I had an invitation to join a friend in London this weekend, to see the celebrations that mark the beginning of the Indian festival of Diwali. The week-long festival represents light triumphing over darkness, in the belief that good will always defeat evil. It seems many other cultures and places, including my home town, are also adopting similar ideas with annual displays, pageants or festivities.
I think most of us are pretty used to living with artificial light these days, but I've had fun taking a little moment here and there just to notice how everyday artificial lighting can create beautiful effects.
Pearl
Can you capture magic twice?
'Sometimes to love someone, you gotta be a stranger.'
Harrison Ford's Deckard glowers at Ryan Gosling's Officer K, his face stained with sweat and blood, fiercely gripping a glass of whisky in his grimy fist.
I hope that's not giving anything away to anyone who wants to see the new Blade Runner 2049 and hasn't made it to the cinema yet.
I don't consider myself a science fiction nerd, and yet something about the original Blade Runner catches the imagination and runs away with it. I suspect this may have something to do with the fact that, crammed amid the eye-popping visuals and mind-bending technological inventions, is a sizeable portion of magic and spirituality.
Blade Runner 2049 is an entertaining enough film but, in my opinion, the bittersweet beauty of Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer's) 'tears in rain' monologue from the original has not been topped.
Maybe in some instances, you can't capture magic twice.
Pearl
Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner
Sleeping gatekeepers
Being a night owl, I was up half the night, even though I had a twelve-and-a-half hour call at the theatre the next day.
I paid the price – coffee didn't touch the sides!
But once the day was done and I was back home, I found my spun-out mind could effortlessly travel to wondrous places, unfettered by the incessant chatter and noise that an awake and focussed brain can throw at you.
So I Googled: when is the best time of day for creative work?
Turns out, if you're a night owl, it's early morning. And if you're a lark, it's late at night. Basically, whenever your brain is fuzzy, it seems the gatekeepers to your imagination are looking the other way.
My heart sinks at the thought of it, but maybe I should try setting the alarm for a little earlier...
Pearl
Owl magic
Here I am with an owl.
I could change the background of the photo to a beautiful forest or something, but in truth, the photo was taken at my local garden centre.
Nonetheless, it was very special to be able to share a moment with this little one. Such stunning eyes, breathtaking patterns on her feathers, fabulous claws and an amazing face!
No wonder owls feature so predominantly in our mythology and magical stories.
Without wishing to sound cheesy, I had an overwhelming moment of feeling so privileged to share this world with other species.
Long may it continue.
Pearl
Urban pirates
I'm still thinking about cities today.
I've been plundering deep into the treasures of Pinterest (a website for exploring and managing images, in case you're not familiar.)
I've been looking through pictures from 1970s New York, wartime London and contemporary Detroit.
Like their human creators, cities evidently go through their ups and downs – but what has been fascinating me are the people who didn't choose to jump ship.
Tough, nonchalant and often brazenly creative, I've found some inspiration today in these glorious rebels – urban pirates who were able to find magic amid the ruins.
Something to think on!
Pearl
Miss Mermaid
Cities definitely have personalities, in my opinion.
The makers of the TV show Sex and The City have always asserted that the fourth character of the show was the city of New York itself.
So when I was commissioned to paint a mural for the city of Brighton, I had to have a think about what kind of character could best represent the diverse, alternative and creative nature of the place.
I came up with a cheeky, sexy mermaid, lounging on the beach in front of the famous pier.
The mural was completed some time ago, and she adorned a wall in the centre of town for four years before being illegally painted over by a graffiti artist – but that's what you risk with public art!
I thought Miss Mermaid was gone forever, until some friends discovered a giant photograph of the piece in the foyer of the Harbour Hotel, where, apparently, she is well received by guests. And that makes me happy.
Pearl
Photos by Kieron O'Connor
The red shoes
'Life is short. Buy the damn shoes.'
I've seen this little quip bouncing around on the internet a number of times, and it's always made me smile, because I don't need any encouragement to buy shoes.
I bought these red boots yesterday – one of the singers I am working with was selling them. And – oh dear! They fit perfectly.
Now this may be stretching things in order to justify my shoe habit – but I do think it's important to keep in touch with things that bring you joy.
If you are an artist, and if you haven't already, I implore you to check out Julia Cameron's wonderful book, The Artist's Way. It has loads of beautiful ideas in it about how to take care of yourself and your creativity, and one of these ideas is to take yourself on regular 'artist dates'. It's important that you go by yourself, and just allow yourself to indulge in anything that pleases your heart. It doesn't have to be expensive – treat yourself to sparkly stickers. A ride on a merry-go-round. A walk in an inspiring place.
Or, um, red boots.
Pearl
Believe
'I used to believe fairytales when I was a kid, too.'
Uncle Steve's startling clear blue eyes twinkled at me as he deftly popped a cigarette into his mouth.
‘Not inside!’ called a surly girl with a hefty bosom from behind the counter.
'Alright, alright!' But a teasing smile smile played at the corner of lips as he glanced across at her.
Glaring sunlight coursed in through the window, baking spilled ketchup into black smears on the formica table between us. A radio babbled inanely - some guy forcing smiles into his voice.
I swallowed, and my throat was tight and hard. 'I'll pay you back, I swear. I just need to give it chan-'
‘Kid, I don’t wanna piss on your parade.’ He leaned forward on leathery elbows, interlacing strong, work-gnarled fingers. 'I know you got to follow your dreams and all that. But I just don't want to see you get hurt.' He indicated at my milkshake, a melted, sticky mess at the bottom of a tall glass. 'You done with that?'
‘Yeah,’ I said, pushing it away. With a nod, Steve was up on his feet. The meeting was over. 'C'mon, let's get you to school.' His hand was on my shoulder.
I got up to follow him out through the door, the blind rattling as I let it slam behind us. The sun immediately and mercilessly poured heat all over us, but Steve didn’t seem to notice. The jaunty swing of his gait was unhindered as we walked past cars sitting on the forecourt, quietly shimmering and cooking.
We stopped at an old midnight blue Ford with a mean chrome grimace.
‘S’open,’ said Steve as he made a grab for the driver’s door. I slipped around to the passenger side and folded myself into the infernal heat inside the car. I fumbled with the scorching seatbelt buckle while Steve leaned forward, twisting the key in the ignition and sending the car into a furious roar. The radio burst into life, blaring rock n’ roll through the speakers. Steve glanced back at me and winked.
As we rolled off the forecourt and nosed our way back onto the highway, I briefly slipped my fingers into my back pocket to check the business card was still there. I didn't need to take it out to read what was on it: ‘Adam Sutcliffe, White Label Music, A&R’. I still believed.
Pearl
