Shivering in Hull? (Warning to "very conservative children": Film will show painted naked people)

I just  read a book by Virginia Ironside, very amusing, about getting older (and the fun of it). Included is a chapter called: "Boring for Britain."
Now I found another hobby people can indulge in: Shivering for Britain.
See: I discovered an article in the Guardian: more than 3.ooo people in East Yorkshire this morning took part in an Art project in Hull, by photographer Spencer Tunick. Naked, their bodies were painted blue and green, (and maybe the the cold at 3 am has deepened the hue of blue?). One man, 80 now, is part of his installations for the 20th time.

"He said he did get a little chilly during the shoot, but added it was nothing compared to Tunick’s installation in Dublin in the summer of 2008. “That was frightening,” he said. “My children are very conservative. They don’t think it’s totally proper to have their father’s butt on a museum wall, but I love it.” Janssen said it will be the last time he takes part in one of Tunick’s works."  The Guardian 

Imagine: the shot took about 3 hours!

Change of Perspective

Sometimes you get stuck in a rut. (Or I, to be more precise).
Miss the forest for the trees.
After an exhibition on "Harry Graf Kessler - Flaneur through Modern Era" we needed a coffee. Harry was such a restless Dandy, knowing so many  people - Isadora Duncan, Josephine Baker, Henry van der Velde, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Nietzsche, to name just a few. He connected people. Diaries of 10.000 pages - a man full of seemingly contradictions, political and cultural,
So we sat in front of Starbucks with full view of the Brandenburger Tor (between the columns tarpaulins - behind them the fan park for the European Football Championship) and the sun was shining like mad. No shade, no parasols.
But I wanted a coffee (so much that I even accepted Starbucks').
And so I changed perspective.
I had an umbrella in my handbag - and used it the Japanese way: saved!
I'd never expected that at this stage of my life I would often have to say: "...for the first time in my life!" Surprise! (though the whole last year sometimes teeth-gnashingly, wiping away a tear).
Voluntarily or not: after doing it I suddenly feel - vulnerable in a pleasant way, alive.
Side benefit: I see solutions. So I say:
"If you brexit, my friends - I'll change perspective. You leave - so I will come. In August."
Looking forward! Westward Ho!  

Solace

"for the young at heart". Everytime I think about age and growing older, I know where to go to when it really frightens me: I walk off those disagreable feelings by going for a stroll through the beautiful park of Schloss Charlottenburg.
And nature teaches me that everything is relative, and depends utterly on your point of view.
Here you see a Bald cypress in the middle of the photo.
And the very consoling text on a chart about it starts with the words:

"Despite its youthful age of only 225 years, ..."  

Ha, ain't that good news??

Countenance

Dear You, 
Can you see it?
At least in the shop windows of Germany there are more and more mannequins standing slumped (I can hear my late mother's voice: "Stand tall!" Not easy when you are 14 and 1.78m tall).
By now I know that standing tall is a wonderful way to look ten years younger - but the puppets don't need that, because then they would have to sit in a pram...
No, really: they crouch! I "collect" with my camera window mannequins for decades. And think about them.
For example: You have every reason on earth to be VERY worried if they change their expression from normal "haughty" ("Don't dare to enter this shop, you louse!")

to "smiling".
If they smile, economics will be very, very bad.
And now there are those sapless stooping ones.
The only interpretation I can think of:
most people nowadays walk and stare into their smartphone at the same time - "BUMP!!!" "Oh, sorry!" --- they bend their heads, even when standing somewhere (they might miss one of those ingenious super-special breathtaking news that drop in every second :-)
And the window puppets are always a mirror, mirror on the wall.

I can't control myself...

Susan Flett-Swiderski made me think of the Troggs (just can't control myself :-):
Happy week-end to all of you!

No Comment Moderation

Dear You , 
You might have noticed that I - quite unusual for my blog - had installed "comment moderation" for two days.
No - no vicious comments had come in - the only reason was that on my blog www.burstingwithhappiness.blogspot.com I had overlooked a helpful comment by Mr. Sackerson for quite a while - so sorry! And I thought that with comment moderation on I might be reminded of a new answer.
But I find it too inconvenient - so: everybody is free to say what he/she wants.
Without comment moderation -
and, as I know you all quite well: moderation will not be an issue :-)

Urban Sketchers

Dear You, 

A few weeks ago I bought an interesting book about Urban Sketchers.
Since then you find in my bag not only lipstick, handkerchief and comb, but also a little sketchbook and at least one pencil. I enjoy sitting on a bench and drawing what I see: it forces me to look more precise, and is a bit like meditation.
I draw the line with sketching people: I don't. Can't. Won't. (They tell you to do it when you sit in the underground - hahaha: I think you won't sit there unmolested very long. I wouldn't want to be sketched by other people either).
Same as with photographs: I often visit photo exhibitions, and of course I look interested at photos of people - often in black-and-white. But I wouldn't do it.
I see a lot of situations that would make good snap-shots. BUT I think it is impolite.
One has to respect everybody's private sphere, I think. And I mean everybody's.
I observed a tourist who went to the big fountain on the Wittenbergplatz where a young man sat hunched in an unnatural pose. Sunken, in a way. The tourist took out his smartphone, took a photo - and went away! I was shocked. Neared tentatively - I'm not a fool, I am urban-wise - but this young man might be sick - and was quite relieved that a heavily built Turk neared too. He touched the young man kindly, spoke two or three words with him - and then we looked at each other, relieved: the youngster only had drunk a bit too much.
I think that it is important to look at 'things' not only through a photolense - that reminds me of Andersen's fairy-tale about the snow queen who had that icy splinter in her heart/eye - but with compassion.
That puts everything into the right perspective, I think.
For drawing I just practise that: perspective.