Today’s photograph is of a shop in Tunstall, taken at 9.15am on a dull mild overcast day. It is typical of the haphazard sort of place Tunstall is. Those boards come down a bit later to reveal a window display of guns and fishing tackle. Fishing is very popular, there are pools all over the place, some old marl holes (the name for where they used to dig for clay) others associated with the canals and the park. It is an odd thing this wish to go and kill things for no good reason but sport, I would if necessary kill for food, but I have no wish to kill or maim for no reason other than to prove to myself I can do it. But I know how many enjoy fishing and used to see them in the park surrounding the lake as I walked Milo. Is it also a wish for the solitary life, a quiet contemplation, which I can get from reading, but they need an activity?
I certainly don’t get that from writing or creative work, for me it is a time of personal angst, frustration and annoyance, usually because I do not have the tools to create what I can see or hear in my mind but then does not appear on the screen or paper. Maybe I need a character who goes fishing to try and see inside the mind, the next ‘adventure’ for Vincent!
Also did a black & white version, perhaps more fitting for the subject, but you do lose that lovely colour of the brick in this area, something I really notice when I go to other parts.