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Sketch of Balcormo Mill. Visited Kirkcaldy art gallery and museum yesterday. In one of the galleries a man sat looking at a painting by David Scott. He took out a notebook and refered to it. He returned to looking at the painting for a a full twenty minutes, intently, quietly. I asked him what he liked about the painting of industrial Kirkcaldy, and he said it was the energy of the paint. He said he came in often to seek out this particular painting, unsure if it will be here as they change the paintings on view regularly. I was struck by his commitment to this artwork and the fact that it mattered to him.

At the Mill this morning the farmer stopped by to ask what I was drawing and he told me there is a box hidden in the wall next to the barn. I go and see for myself. Rebecca aged 6 has sequestered a tupperware box of hidden treasures – a dinosaur, a fairy and golden jewels. I remember doing much the same when I was about the same age leaving a message in the tin telling the person who might find it who I was and why these objects were precious to me. I imagine the tin has long since corroded and its contents decayed, but its the idea that whether its a painting or a fairy in a tiny pink tutu, certain objects harbour a significance whatever our age.

One Reply to “Treasures.”

  1. The wee hidden treasures reminds me that when I was 17 all those moons ago and I still got to use a comb I did a lot of outdoor activities like extreme cycling well down whinny brae in Brought Ferry with failing breaks I went right over the handlebars crashing into the back of a car below got up with banged head scraped my knees and scratched both arms earning bruises for a week or two getting into trouble from my Uncle for ruining a perfectly good bike – then a short time after that being lectured to for stinking the house out with paints and glue over my model making – and told to get out more instead, that’s when metal detecting became a part of my life, joining a local new metal detecting club after it was advertised in the evening telegraph, my Uncle passed away in 1978, he had been a local well known Broughty Ferry businessman running the Ironmongers in Brook Street with my Grandmother, John Smith was also well known for his water colors he did and photography, and fly fisherman – after his death I was rummaging in our attic next to John’s darkroom, and found an old glass display cabinet which was falling to pieces, in it was artefacts that my great grandfather Paton had discovered on his travels around the world, and for me the favourite piece was an ancient Roman stone oil lamp he had found in Egypt in the 1800’s – my Gran let me keep this, and it was a prize treasure for me ☺then I foolishly did something I have never been able to he over, I joined the metal detecting club in Dundee in 1977, by 1978 I was more or less running the club on my own with over fifty members, I organised the very first Charity Metal Detecting Dig in Scotland the same year again practically on my own, over a hundred detectorists attended along with dealers and the Dundee United Goal Keeper, it went brilliantly I took all my finds which I put on a table to display in an old wooden Sheffield pen knife display case with my stone lamp sitting there my pride and joy and then I had to go and collect monies from folk arriving away for about half an hour – when I came back to the table my display case all my finds and my stone lamp had been stolen, I was 18 and I was devastated – it was a treasure I truly liked it wasn’t anything of gold or silver it didn’t sparkle but it was a link to family past and an ancestor I never knew – I never told my Gran about it but I was really upset, and have never forgiven myself for being such an idiot 😑. There are just some treasures you cannot detach from – sorry Dominique I didn’t mean to write my life story – its just one episode of silly things from my silly life


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