Ace Jet 170

Titanic Again

We went back today, this time with the boys. The weather wasn't so good which meant the building was kind of monochrome. Looking good, whatever the weather.

Titanic

The boys were at their Gran's for tea so me and Karen jumped on our bikes and peddled on down to the Titanic Quarter this afternoon; just to have a snoop about a bit. If you don't know, the new Titanic Building opened today. I think we're going to take a look inside over the Easter holidays but from the outside at least, it all looks ace.

They got a fantastic day for the opening and there's an expansive (and I have to say, cycle-friendly) outside area so we spent a good while checking it out. The exterior IS stunning.

The Library

I didn't think about it until we got there but it's been years. Blimey. Could be ten?…No, more like twenty, since I was in an old library. Our local is reasonably modern. There's an amazing one in Bangor a few miles further on; all internet and lime green vinyl flooring. 

Linen Hall Library, in Belfast's city centre is not like that. We were there for the launch of a book we'd designed (more about that another time) but as soon as we'd stepped inside, well, I think all three of us were struck by the beautiful. It's from another time. Actually, I'll backtrack a bit. We went in through the modern side entrance, which is a narrow but bright space that leads into a three or four story stairwell. Look up and it's all modern materials and framed prints of party political advertising. But the stairs are there to give you access; you're soon in the original library. And that feels like something out of another century. Bookish (obviously) and still; it reminded me of Tinker Tailor. I could imagine Smiley, sitting in the corner, waiting for a clandestine liaison. Or searching for a microdot in some obscure volume.

The Library couldn't be more central in the city which is why it felt like a secret place. I've passed the outside many times, carried along by the crowd. We stood outside one Christmas, regretting our misguided decision to come into town to watch the lights being switched on. Never, NEVER again.

I had no idea what was just inside those doors.

The Paths Less Travelled

From the physics defying Electric Brae to the World's Biggest Hedge at Meikleour; from the almost-nothing-there Forsinard Flows to Europe's Oldest Tree in Fortingall; if it's hardly ever been seen, the chances are, Anne's sought it out. The mish-mash homes of Footdee, the no-introduction-needed-unless-you've-never-heard-of-it Pineapple Foley near Falkirk, the drive-too-fast-and-you'll-miss-it World's Shortest Street in Wick and the hold-on-to-your-knickers Clootie Well, just west of Munlochy, on the A832 between Muir of Ord and Fortrose. All tracked down, like dogs, and snared in a net that looks very like a tidy little book. £6.99.

If you find yourself roaming around the High and Low lands, tired of the clichéd tourist traps, sick of the shortbread and the skirted bagpipe wrestlers, then this is the book for you. Swerve straight past Aberdeen and roll on down to Storybook Glen. Take the kids. If they're anything like our's, it could totally freak them out. Wonky effigies of lovable cartoon characters will haunt their darkest nightmares for decades to come.

Glasgow bound? Don't bother. Go to Uddingston instead. Everyone in the car will love you dearly when you pull up outside, let's face it, Scotland's finest biscuitery: the legendary actually-really-does-need-no-introduction Tunnock's Factory.

If Edinburgh is your final destination check out the tubas at St Cecilia's Hall and Reid Concert Hall Museum of Instruments. Spread across two locations it is, of course, not all windstruments. They've got everything: hurdy-gurdies, quinticlaves, harpsiwhatsits, dulcithingies, sousaflimflams; the lot.

Even if you're nowhere near The Land of The Scots Nothing To See Here is a riotous tour of weirdness and wonder. Brilliant stuff and a worthy testament to Anne's explorative endeavours.

Grim Up North

This time last weekend we were up on the north coast. For those not from around here, it's only an hour and a half away (unless you take the long cut like I usually do…by accident). And even if the weather's a bit rough (grim) it's amazing. That's the Giant's Causeway above. Bleak but dramatic.

 

The Icing on the Cake

Spent Sunday morning in City Picnic, Belfast's (probably) newest city centre lunch bar on Castle Street. And we had a great time. They've just started a cup cake baking thing for kids, to encourage people in at what is, I guess, a reasonably quiet time. We really enjoyed it, so thanks to Arthur for hosting and Mark for baking. Would definitely do it again; it's a great way to lose a couple of hours with the kids.

Hat's off to my old stable HBD for the naming/branding. And to Soon for the interior. It's all really nicely done.

And look, as if Instagram's photo-fakery wasn't enough for me, I've discovered Analog (via a Frank tweet). Putting aside the uncanney similarity between its branding and that of the other Analog (who've been around for some time…I'm not saying anything) now that I've shelved my purist sensibilities it's another pile of app (this time Mac) fun. I might even suggest it does the pseudo-vintage thing a little better with effects varying each time a specific filter is applied.

Northern Rock

We got a week on the North Coast just before the kids went back to school. It was epic. Somehow, even though we've been in NI for seven years, we haven't really spent any time up there. It's probably the most impressive part of the province. So we did all the obvious but dead exciting things: The Causeway, the Rope Bridge, White Park Bay was amazing. Nick from The Apprentice interupted our picnic at Ballintoy Harbour and we spotted basking sharks from the ferry to Rathlin.

And, predictably, I looked at rocks.

Staring at the ground

As previously suggested, I spend a little too much time looking down. Last weekend we were camping at Castleward. Not adventurous camping. No. Cozy, easy-to-bail-out camping just an hour's drive away. OK, it was cold at night and we were in our own tent. I mean, we weren't glamping. But still, not exactly living in the wilds; Bacon and egg every morning and organic burgers for tea. A pot of espresso on the stove and a bottle of red to keep our strength up.

When we weren't huddling together for warmth, frying up a car crash breakfast or searching for the puncture in one of the air beds, we were on our bikes, heading pier-wards for a spot of crabbing. Armed with rinds for the pinchers and a picnic for us.

Beautifully textured, ancient piers.

The Land Is Made From Many Small Parts

The funny thing about the work of Nigel Peake is that I really didn't like it. I was given his book of drawings and paintings, Strøm, a little while back but it didn't do a thing for me. I didn't like his colours, I thought his subject matter was dull and the whole thing seemed pointless.

But then his other book arrived, In The Wilds. And I felt it would only be fair to give it some time. I've done this before. Judged books by their covers only to realise much, much later that I've missed something important. That's the thing about weird stuff that you don't immediately like. You need to give it some time. It's like people, some you like immediately, some you have to get to know.

Peake's work, I feel, you have to get to know. Spend some quality time together. Take it out for coffee. I did that. And what I found was an obsessive nature and love of the everyday, not unlike my own; a fanatical devotion to his lines; and a view of the world not like any other's. The longer I spent with the book the more my admiration grew.

I now love the work of Nigel Peake.

 

 

 

 

 

Special Branch

Better get this posted before we're too far into the Spring/Summer for it to be even slightly relevent; once all the leaves are out, that'll be it.

This is something I've been meaning to do for ages. Have come close a couple of times then bailed out thinking it's just too mundane even for Ace Jet. This is one of those things I imagine we all do. I mean, we all love tree tops don't we? Especially when they're leafless and the sky's a bit gloomy. Perhaps you've got a few snaps of them yourself? I keep taking them, then I figure, no one wants to see my tree top photos. Not when they've got their own to look at. So these are really just here for my reference. Feel free to move along swiftly. Sorry for wasting your time.

North did a thing for Dalton Maag once that used leafless tree tops. A type specimen book. That's what made me think, like the clouds, we all like them. For me it's their monochromatic/silhouetteness. Like they're etched and flat. Not all 3D and manychromatic, like what they really are. And then there's the thought that if you could dig them up and turn them upside down they'd look the same. Not just my thought. That's obviously not an original idea; lots of people have thought that. But still, it's interesting isn't it?…Isn't it?