In about 1958 my mother went to The Old Curiosity Shop in London and bought this book for me. A large 9 by 11 inch version of the sad story of The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens. The illustrations by Frank Reynolds, R. I. are priceless. I can’t find a publishing date in it or anything else about the book.
The book is one of the few things I have left from my mother and from that time. I remember reading it in a flat in Queensborough Terrace, Kensington, in my bedroom. My room used to be the old larder behind the kitchen and had no heat except for a small kerosene heater – very Dickensian. I loved the little moss garden in the gutter outside the window.
Click on the first one to enlarge and run the slide show. This is for you Derrick.
It’s been a while since I played with Corel Photo-Paint. I always loved their sketch effects. Using a combuination of effects and layers I can adjust things until I am happy with it. This is the same red hibiscus I posted previously.
I have known my friend since the ‘60s. We were neighbors on Attorney Street in the Lower East Side, New York City. My friend is an artist and she always had a place up in Maine. In 1968 I stayed with her for a month or so while we were both pregnant. We went to visit her and her mate in 2012. They live in the countryside near Solon, Maine, and they each have studios. Their entire place is full of wonderful art and curiosities. We all drove to Skowhegan for lunch at a Thai place. After lunch we went to visit an artist friend of theirs. I wish I could see them more often.
I moved to London with my mother when I was 6 in 1954. The first flat we lived in was at Kensington Gardens. It came with access to a locked garden called Ladbroke Square Gardens, London W11.
During the early 1950’s I remember taking airplanes and sleeper trains from New York to Reno, Nevada, and other places.
Mother and I sailed from NYC to Southampton on the Queen Mary in 1954. On other ships we sailed through both canals from Australia and USA. A sailor nicknamed me “Port” instead of Sherry and he explained the meaning of port and starboard.
When I was four I lived at Fordham Hill Apartments. I met a girl who did a spell over a wooden barrel. She told me not to tell anyone and go look at the windowsill and tell her what I saw. I saw tiny people running around on it.
When I was six, in 1954, my mother and I went to Scotland. I had the measles there and was confined to the hotel in Broughty Ferry near Dundee for a month and, I learned to ride a bike. I remember the heather on the mountains, stone water bottles and oatmeal. I learned to ride a bicycle on the gravel path of the hotel.