So I mentioned last week that I thought that butterflies were pretty and now they seem to be all around me. It’s funny how that happens sometimes.
First of all I was sent an invitation to see an exhibition by Scottish artist Jenny Matthews whose work is being shown at Blanefield’s Smith Gallery. Her paintings are so pretty and there are butterflies a-plenty. I was hardly surprised when I heard that she was taught by Elizabeth Blackadder at Edinburgh Art College. Of course, what is best is that work by both artists would look lovely on my wall but one is just a tad more affordable.
I then received a reply from my daughter as to what she might like for her birthday at the end of this month.
Well, blow me down when she didn’t ask for some framed stuffed butterflies. I have to admit she’s a girl who ploughs her own furrow, which I suppose should be encouraged, but popping along to Top Shop to get some vouchers would be a somewhat easier task.
Anyway, as is typical of the little minx, it appears she’s right on the button because I’ve heard that taxidermy is the new rock ‘n’ roll. Well, not literally of course what with dead animals not producing much in the way of music, but you get my drift.
I shall reserve judgement on this – I agree that the butterflies do look lovely in their little frame, but as for bigger beasts it can be somewhat spooky. I once visited a fishing lodge up north which was stuffed with many things stuffed. Daniel the Spaniel was particularly perturbed by an inanimate badger that was in the corner of the hall. He growled at it, then barked; when neither of these actions produced a response he did what any self-respecting hound would in this situation. He peed on it.
Obviously I shall not be showing him the daughter’s birthday present; I doubt she would believe that urine can be used as an embalming fluid.