This exhibition in the café area of Russell Cotes Art Gallery and Museum compliments the art exhibition I featured recently. The museum has just reopened after it’s annual dust and vacuum.
Sunday Salon – Photos at an Exhibition
ukraine
Monday Moments – An Exhibition
‘Artist as Witness: The Impact of War
25 October 2025 – 8 March 2026
This thought-provoking exhibition explores the importance of the artist as eyewitness, providing insights not only into warfare but also the impact of war on those involved and the communities affected. It includes artwork from the First and Second World War, as well as recent work by award-winning artist George Butler of the war in Ukraine.’
If you have returned after yesterday’s visit to the Russell Cotes Museum have a look round the gallery.
https://tidalscribe.com/2025/12/28/sunday-salon-victorian-christmas/
https://russellcotes.com/event/artist-as-witness/
Are artists as important as ever in recording war?
Mundane Monday Musings
Do you ever wonder what really is real life. Assuming that we are real and not a computer dreaming, have we attained the human condition we should all aspire to if we live in peace, well fed with time to indulge in the arts and creativity? Or is real life a daily battle against the elements to grow enough food to survive, pitting your wits and using your strength to hunt and kill enough to feed your family. Even worse, is real life facing death at any moment as you are attacked and invaded and must defend yourself and your people?
Maybe our earliest ancestors led a peaceful life, with a human population so small nobody needed to fight over land. Life was in tune with nature and the seasons, social life was chatting about the mammoth hunt and telling tales around the fire as you ate mammoth steaks.
If you are bored living in the comfort zone you can leave it to trek to one of the poles or up Mount Everest. The bravest people are those who leave their own countries and take their medical and other skills to war zones. If they manage to return home safely how mundane must our ordinary lives seem.
If Aunty Joan complains she has to wait for her hospital appointment perhaps the adventurer will suggest she is lucky her hospital has not been destroyed by a missile attack. If the nephew complains he could not get his favourite cereal at the supermarket, they might point out he is lucky to have food at all. If the adventurer’s sister tells him her anxiety has been bad he might point out they don’t have time for anxiety in the Gaza Strip or Ukraine.
You don’t have to leave your own country or even your own home to be plunged out of your comfort zone. If you work for the emergency services you will certainly see real life. For ordinary members of the public storms, flash floods and wild fires can mean destruction of their home and security as well as all their possessions.
Some of our chat at home or over coffee with friends will be about the awful state of the world and local dramas on the news, but most of us still enjoy gossip about work and our neighbourhood that would mean nothing to anyone outside our little circles. Any trip to the shops or day out becomes a dramatic story.
In the comfort zone
It was so windy last night all the food bins were in the middle of the road.
My patio chairs blew onto the lawn!
I saw Kate on the bus on Tuesday.
Oh how is she?
Fine, got her appointment at last.
I thought I was never going to get here, the puddles, I tried to dodge them but still got my shoes wet.
Next door have got a leak…
That white car has been parked outside my house for three days now…
Have you started watching that new series?
Was that the bloke that was in that other series?
No, you’re thinking of that other chap who was on Strictly…
Are we hiding away from real life or keeping civilisation alive?
Have you ventured outside the comfort zone or suddenly found yourself in the danger zone?
The perfect peaceful zone…
Eurovisioned
What’s happening this weekend? Nothing? No Coronation, no Eurovision…
What shall we talk or blog about?
So who won Eurovision? Liverpool! I have never been to Liverpool, but I know someone who has; they had a ticket to the final rehearsal on Saturday afternoon and apparently it was awesome. Our television news had been following the lead up to the contest, from the special Eurovision train full of excited seasoned fans, to the full week of action in the city. Even if you couldn’t get tickets to the contest you could still enjoy the revelries and celebrate the first time in 25 years that we were holding the contest. It sounds like Liverpool did us proud.
So who actually won? The lighting and stage technicians… and all the other people back stage you don’t see. The turn around on the stage was sixty seconds apparently. The contest is not just about the song, it’s about the performance. Flashing lights, strange outfits, dancing of all sorts and scenes that couldn’t be described as dancing; all very different from the early years in black and white when singers came on in suits and nice dresses.
But which song won? Points come from judges in each competing country, then the viewers’ votes come in. Sweden’s Loreen won with her song Tattoo. It looked as though Finland would win at one stage, though I fell asleep during all the scoring and missed that bit. Finland came second and Israel third. Ukraine, last year’s winners, whose show it was, came a creditable sixth. And where did the United Kingdome come? Second last with Mae Muller’s I Wrote A Song, which I thought was quite good. Germany were last.
But everyone had fun at this unique party.
https://eurovision.tv/event/liverpool-2023/grand-final/results/sweden
Eurovision Eve
May Madness continues… after the excitement of the coronation I realised I did not need to take down my bunting, but just add to it and celebrate Eurovision 2023. Some ribbon from HaberDasherDo and a few safety pins..
...then I discovered Amazon would deliver a flag by 10pm… which turned out to be a bit bigger than I expected.
Teddy has been carrying the Ukrainian flag since Ukraine was invaded last year.
The Eurovision Song Contest was started in 1956 and I doubt those who participated in those early black and white days would recognise the colourful stage productions and strange outfits in the twenty first century. There are many more countries participating now, some newly created borders and a few countries not in Europe… Some countries have always loved it, while in the United Kingdom many of us may have been indifferent or embarrassed by our song entries. Sweden famously produced Abba whose songs have been a background to so many lives and when Ireland hosted the contest in 1994 the interval entertainment of Riverdance took on a life of its own and millions have been thrilled by the many live Riverdance shows.
Last year everything changed when the UK actually had a song people were talking about and seemed to have a chance of getting good scores, Sam Ryder with ‘Space Man’. More importantly Ukraine was was going to enter and despite the awful suffering of their country send a positive message to the world. Their Kalush Orchestra won with ‘Stefania’ and the UK came second. Ukraine should have been the host this year, but sadly that would be impossible so as second place holders the UK was chosen and are jointly hosting with Ukraine in Liverpool.
It is the first time for 25 years we have hosted the contest and for those who have always loved Eurovision and Liverpudlians, there is great excitement … and it’s catching. Whatever you think of the various songs a lot of people are having fun, both locals and Ukrainians in exile here. On the news you can have a break from what is going on in the rest of the world and see happy people gathering in Liverpool. There have been two semi finals and tomorrow is the Big Night...
Will you be watching tomorrow night?
No Sweet Home
On BBC Radio at the weekend they talked on the phone to a family who have taken in a young Ukrainian man. They sounded like one of those larger than life families who are so fascinating to we lesser mortals. The parents are both vicars ( one was in training ) and have five children and numerous pets. As Christians they have always used their spare room for whatever needy person has come into their lives, not for them the valid excuses of not enough room or too busy. The children love meeting new people and their new Ukrainian is having lots of fun and improving his English.
Meanwhile on the home front my younger son and daughter-in-law have just bought their own place and I am on my own again. Lots of their stuff is still here so I might not have room for any refugees just yet, especially as the rest of the family want to come and see the many improvements they have done – that’s for another blog.
But far from the terrible war in Ukraine and Chez Tidalscribe, two stories in the news caught my imagination, one local tiny tale and one big story on the other side of the world.
Before Christmas there was a fire in a block of flats in Bournemouth, luckily the elderly residents were safely evacuated and quickly transferred to the Premiere Inn next door. But a News South story the other day revealed they were still there; so close to home and yet so far. They are being well looked after, have their friends and neighbours close and don’t have to bother with cooking. But it’s not HOME. Premiere Inns are usually reliable ( all look exactly the same ) and comfortable as long as you like the colour purple. Very handy as stopovers on long journeys or to stay near relatives who have a full house, but you would not want to live there for months on end. Ensuite bathroom yes, but the furnishings are basically a few shelves, some coat hangers and a hard chair. A lady of 93 was shown sitting on the big bed knitting, much the same position you would find me on a short Premiere break. I prefer to avoid the hard chair, gathering all the pillows and lounging with my knitting, book or iPhone. With all that’s happened, the last place I actually stayed away from home was Margate Premiere Inn Christmas 2019, a handy location twixt railway station and beach, overlooking the shelter where TS Eliot wrote The Wasteland, which still lies languishing on my Kindle… you can read more about the delights of Margate in this blog…
The Wonder of Wetherspoons | Times and Tides of a Beachwriter (tidalscribe.com)
A more chilling story came from China in the news one evening. Anyone testing positive for Covid was being forced into quarantine in the most basic facilities ( or lack of facilities ) but the people screaming and fighting ‘security forces’ were not being taken away for quarantine. They were being evicted from their flats, their homes, so the whole block could be taken over as a quarantine centre; perhaps an effort to improve accommodation for the quarantees! Where the residents were going to live was not clear, but there are so many ways to lose one’s home. Never take your home for granted, one day you may have No Sweet Home.
Home Sweet Home
When we got married and moved into our police flat I knew I never wanted to be without my own home again. We didn’t own it, but home only needs to be where you are settled safely, not necessarily owned. Home also fans out to your own street, town and country, but our own tiny spot in the world is unique for most of us who rent or own only one home. An Englishman’s home truly is his castle and you don’t have to be English to want your own castle. In the five years previous to our wedding I had lived with grandparents, aunt and uncle, been a lodger with two very different families, stayed in a motel and experienced institutional living. Now a few days after my 24th birthday ( which seems very young now ) I had my own kitchen and window box – oh and not forgetting a new husband as well!
In the natural order of things, in times of peace, houses outlive their owners. The new house my grandfather bought in the 1930’s for his young family is still standing, extended and improved like most suburban houses and home to other families over the years. With the death of my uncle that first family are all gone. Google reveals that the Victorian terrace I was born in is still standing and looking much the same from the outside. My parents rented the top half and when they said we were going to buy our own house, when I was six, I couldn’t understand it as we already had a home. The house they bought is also still standing. If you come from landed gentry or royalty your home may well have stood for many centuries and may stand for centuries to come.
When we see whole towns wiped out by fire, flood or hurricane we may see survivors and be glad for them that they still have their families. But it is still devastating to lose everything, your home and your town. If we lose loved ones our home is still more than bricks and mortar, it is a sanctuary and a place full of memories.
Watching the terrible invasion and attacks on Ukraine, millions of us felt a connection because they were people who had ordinary lives like us and in the space of a few days lost their homes or had to leave them. The fact that millions of people in the world are homeless or live in slums and refugee camps does not make the suffering of the Ukrainians less. Rightly or wrongly there seems to be a real possibility to help them until they can return that we can’t realistically do for the whole wide world. Close neighbours such as Poland have come up trumps with their welcome while in the United Kingdom we are hampered by post Brexit bureaucracy.
Whatever obstacles are put in the way doesn’t alter the fact that many people in Britain have volunteered to take people into their own homes and that is a gift far greater than money. To share your home with distant relatives and strangers for an unknown amount of time is not a decision to take lightly. Supposing they never leave, don’t speak any English, don’t fit in with your routine… Many of us will applaud others while being secretly relieved we can’t because we only have one bathroom, have a full house already, need space when family come to stay…
When we were first married a friend of ours, mainly through his own fault, was jobless and homeless and came to stay with us for a few days… yes you guessed, we thought he would never leave and in the end lied that relatives from Australia were coming to stay! We have had Australian relatives living with us without problems and my son and daughter-in-law are well on track to buying their own house and moving out soon. Would I have some Ukrainians or any homeless once I’m on my own? Well there is the question of only one bathroom and family needing to stay when they visit…
Have you ever taken in strangers to your home?
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 