I cannot know why I took the photograph of these shoes.
Perhaps it was the contrast between the elderly man in the background and their lit form?
Perhaps the reversal of perspectives? Perhaps it was their femininity and style?
Whatever it was, the image has been at the back of my mind since I shot it three years ago, and
it’s been kind of stuck there, waiting to see the light of day.
Last week we were on the home stretch of a long edit, yet something didn’t feel right and it wasn’t
coming together as I wanted! The end frames – where the credits appear – had to reflect the spirit and essence of the films, but I was thinking too hard about them, and it felt uncomfortable……..
We had cut seven short natural history projects in ten days and I was beginning to loose my way!
The creative sensibilities had become dulled and editorial auto pilot had kicked in.
When I explained to Paul – my VT editor – what I was trying to achieve I remembered the shoes,
Suddenly the image which had lain dormant seemed apposite, and in a strange way, I knew it embodied what I was trying to articulate and achieve.
Elegance!
It’s a word, which apart from it’s often flagrant misuse, in the fashion industry these days, seems to
have all but gone out of popular currency. And this is a great mystery, especially when you consider it’s conveys such a beautiful, and potent, understated message.
In deed, in action, in mind, in character, in grace, deportment, solution, and most of all, in being!
It’s as simple as that.
And now we’ve completed our credits. They’re not “normal” and they don’t follow any conventional rules, but everyone who has seen them likes them.
I hope you do too!
It’s been many years since I last read “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” and I’m sure if my Granny Bryce were still alive today she’d wonder why I’m making the connection with this book and her.
Well, the reason is twofold!
I’m about halfway through the book for the second time and have recognized some uncanny parallels – between Robert M Pirsig – and myself.
We both lost our first sons in tragic circumstances and have undertaken journeys across the continental divide of Montanaand down to the Pacific coast, although for different reasons.
Re-reading the book now – with the benefit of hindsight – and some 35 years of perspective, it has struck an even deeper chord and resonance with me, than in the early 1970’s
Essentially, the book is the story of a parallel journey between the author and his son, and a philosophical enquiry, and interpretation about “Quality” and, “the Good”
So when I received an email earlier this week about the death of a friends’ maternal Aunt, Violet, who lived in Wisconsin, I was touched and deeply moved by the description of the relationship this lady had to her husband, and my friend.
She was someone who had lived her life simply, and gave everything she had, to her children, and wider family, despite living under what would be considered – by today’s standards – poverty conditions. Despite her age, and the ravages of an aggressive cancer, she never uttered a word of complaint, throughout her entire illness, which eventually consumed her stoic approach to life.
My Granny had a more privileged, yet no less giving background. Through her grace, wisdom and canniness she offered an indelible impression of the value of modesty and quiet. She was close to the weather, the earth, her plants and vegetables and a had intuitive knack of knowing.
In both instances, these two women – elders in their communities – unbeknown to themselves, were touchstones to the lives of two human beings, and the personification of good and quality.
Halfway through his book Robert Pirsig refers to the 2,400 year old Tao Te Ching of Lao Tzu, in relation to quality, in a wider spiritual context.
I opened my book of Tao last night at chapter eight, which as it transpired, seemed a particularly fitting and apt memorial to My Granny and Violet, who although living half a world apart, held the same values and beliefs,
“In dwelling be close to the land.
In meditation go deep to the heart.
In dealing with others, be gentle and kind.
In speech be true. In business, be competent.
In action, watch the timing.”
I’ve just arrived at Glasgow airport en-route to a new, blue stone film, preview meeting in the city.
Key sponsors of the film including Pfizer, Gruenthal and Napp – are going to be there, as well as NHS clinical consultants and other leading figures in the health sector.
It’s an important day and to be honest these occasions are a bit like giving birth!
There’s always a heightened sense of expectation and uncertainty as everyone wants to see how
the new baby is going to look and sound!
However, for once, an event like this is tinged with some sadness.
Today is the funeral of Dan Buglass.
Dan was one of the first journalists to call me - many years ago – when I joined the BBC and extended an unconditional hand of friendship, and welcome.
I will never forget his magnanimous gesture.
Although he did not know me well at that time, it did not matter to Dan. He knew that a new kid on the block needed friends in the business, and in the know, and that’s exactly what he gave me with great bonhomie.
His sartorial flair was legend and he cut a dapper figure from city board meetings to country shows.
Today he would be called, a specialist correspondent, which is of course, exactly what he was.
But to Dan, his prodigious knowledge and reportage of UK and global agriculture, was simply a natural extension of his life and love of farming matters and of those who lived and worked on the land.
He was one of life’s gentlemen and of that old school where decorum and grace was inherent.
What is never discussed but widely known and I feel is in no way disrespectful to his memory is he had a great liking for his “morning”. That this widely held Scottish tradition – until our more recent sober times – of a wee nip or dram early in the day, was a dying tradition, was a great mystery to Dan. He was someone who happily enjoyed his uisge bhea and made no apologies about it!
Despite being warned away by BBC exec’s – because of his liking for the “cratur” – not to engage Dan, as a contributor to the many programmes I produced, I chose to ignore them.
He was punctilious to a degree, always added value to any story, providing insight, depth and analysis, and was the consummate professional who never once let anyone down.
That I cannot attend his funeral this afternoon is a mater of great regret to me.
To Dan, I owe my unending gratitude and respect, always.
I will miss him.