Green Vase

P did some pruning on Friday, and I wanted to salvage some of the beautiful red-brown branches and twigs, some of which had retained their last few fading leaves. I often bring in pruned branches to enjoy for a final few days before the inevitable journey to composting or burning. The green vase was my mum's - or probably my parents', as I think it may have been a wedding present, but my mum was attached to it. It was an ever-present object when I was growing up, standing on the sideboard, sometimes with flowers in but more often without, for almost fifty years. As a seventies teenager I thought it rather dull and dated, like most of the household decor; they had tried to fill their new-build 1959 home with what I now recognise as rather nice, simple and "modern" 1950s design. Now, the vase lives in my over-filled vase cupboard but I try to bring it out from time to time. I love the way the light shines through it and sparkles in its curves and the little bubble imperfections in the glass.

I've been wanting to try some still-life photos for a while. I signed up for A Year With My Camera year 2 in the autumn (having completed year 1 in 2019), bought the newly published workbook with my Christmas gift card, and still life is the first unit. I struggle to find a clear, reasonably lit space to set things up, so this is a narrow arrangement, standing on a tray on a chair draped with a tablecloth. Unfortunately I was interrupted, and by the time I got back to it, the day was fading fast. I tried various combinations of window, ceiling lights and flash; this one has the ceiling lights on, very high above, and I quite like the leafy shadow they cast. However, I know I have a lot to learn about lighting things indoors, and must stop resisting getting the tripod out if I want to do this kind of thing better.

I confess that I included the book for its title and cover colour rather than its content, apart from the broad topic of mutability. Having taken it from the shelf, though, I've returned to the poems, which are thoughtful, sometimes beautiful, sometimes enigmatic, often tackling raw, difficult subject matter, alluding to a journey through cancer and the contemplation of death. The book was a gift some years ago, and merits more time than I have given it.