Showing posts with label cityscape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cityscape. Show all posts

Friday, 30 May 2014

Around Edinburgh

I don't have too much more to say about my placement at Luath, but I do have some more pictures from Edinburgh spanning my time there, so I thought I'd share them. 

The view from the office was amazing, especially looking back towards the ocean. 



The trees were all pink in the Meadows for about a week, which was lovely. I wish they'd last longer, but unfortunately by the time I left Edinburgh they'd already begun to disappear.






Below is the view from the kitchen at Luath, looking up towards the castle.



I definitely took the bus more those two weeks than I had ever before, which was quite nice. The Edinburgh public transit is really quite a solid system.





It was really gorgeous outside the entire time I was there, except for a day or two of rain. But the walk up from where I got off the bus to the office was really nice (except for all the tourists of course).




On the Thursday night before my last day at Luath, I went to a book launch at Blackwell's South Bridge.


Since it took me me 20 min on the bus to get from work, and I got off at 5 and the launch was at 7, there wasn't much point in me going home in between, so I hung out in Cafe Nero and read my book in between.


The launch was lovely, they had wine and juice and it was quite lovely.


Thursday, 8 May 2014, Blackwell’s South Bridge, Edinburgh

Dilys Rose’s second novel is an exploration of memory, family, and mental illness, a fragmented novel that paints a moving journey of self-discovery for the reader.

With her father’s breakdown, Gala finds herself pulled back into the toxic family dynamics she thought she had eluded. Through ripples of the past, we begin to piece together the reality of a family who has lived a lie for as long as she can remember. But what kind of truth can memory really offer?

Over the course of the launch, Rose read from various sections of her book, specifically choosing to focus on the turbulent relationship between Gala and her father – though there are of course other characters, Rose assures us that these are the central ones. However, Rose first read the book’s epigraph to the audience, a poem that she had written herself. After this somewhat unusual introduction (at least, as far as epigraphs go) she launched into the first part of her novel, a segment focusing on Gala and her father when Gala was still very young. The section tells the story of Gala and her father going to the foundry to get a bust of her head, sculpted by her father, baked before being cast in bronze. Gala, who does not think herself beautiful, no matter how many times the kind Italian man who works at the factory calls her ‘bella’, secretly hopes that the bust explodes. While Rose left off this first section at this point, she did offer a cheeky spoiler to the audience – the bust does, indeed, burst. While the second section selected by Rose did introduce the large green nude man Gala’s father has sculpted and placed in their home (tastefully draped with a towel by her mother for guests), it was in the third excerpt chosen by Rose that the audience truly began to understand the extent of the family’s dysfunction, as Gala’s father insists that it is inconsequential that he decided his painting of Gala was not beautiful enough to be his daughter, and instead painted a model, informing her that he was going to tell everyone that the model was his daughter, and it was simply artistic license anyways.

Rose captured her audience in her reading, drawing everyone there into the world of Pelmanism, a world of dysfunctional family interactions and mental illness.

“Memory plays a pretty big role in this novel, accurate and inaccurate memories.” –Rose
Dilys Rose was born and brought up in Glasgow. Previous publications include three collections of short stories, Our Lady of the Pickpockets, Red Tides and War Dolls, three of poetry - Beauty is a Dangerous Thing, Madame Doubtfire's Dilemma, and Lure, and a novel, Pest Maiden.

She has also written for stage and collaborated with musicians and visual artists. Awards include the first Macallan/Scotland on Sunday Short Story Prize, The R.L.S. Memorial Award, The Society of Authors’ Travel Award, The Canongate Prize and two Scottish Arts Council Book Awards. Red Tides was short-listed for both the McVitie’s Scottish Writer of the Year and the Saltire Scottish Book of the Year. Pest Maiden was nominated for the Impac Prize.

She teaches creative writing at Edinburgh University. For further information please visit www.dilysrose.com

Pelmanism is now available from luath.co.uk.


The rain just made Edinburgh even greener than it already was - spring definitely came much earlier in Scotland than it did in Alberta!




The day after it was really rainy, it was really sunny, and during lunch Emily and I walked up to the ramp ahead of the castle, and the city looked just amazing.







Thursday, 27 March 2014

Edinburgh

"This is a city of shifting light, of changing skies, of sudden vistas. A city so beautiful it breaks the heart again and again" - Alexander McCall Smith


"This was a townscape raised in the teeth of cold winds from the east; a city of winding cobbled streets and haughty pillars; a city of dark nights and candlelight, and intellect" - Alexander McCall Smith


"If London was an alien city, Edinburgh was another planet" - Jess Walter


I've been living in Edinburgh for almost seven months now, and while a lot of my wonder over living in a city so old and filled with history had faded quite a bit, it has been reemerging quite a bit lately (perhaps because it is warming up and my walks are no longer determined marches from one warm inside place to another warm inside place). My friends were making fun of me the other day for taking the below photo while we were walking through Grassmarket, saying that I've been here for ages now, I shouldn't be taking pictures all the time anymore. But I feel like there is so much of this city that I haven't captured. And I will probably never be able to capture it through photographs, as they are, while an amazing and wonderful medium, inherently limited in what they can convey. And there is so much of Edinburgh to convey. 


There's so much of Edinburgh that I love, and while I sometimes wish to peel the modernity off its surface (particularly the stupid parking meters which are always getting in my photos of amazing old streets and buildings) there is something simultaneously compelling about that collusion of old and new, the mixing of then and now in an endless stream of history, a reminder that what we are and what we do will one day be rendered obsolete.


And, no matter how many trappings of modernity are plastered to Edinburgh's surface, the history rises from beneath, inescapable and undeniable.


No matter how long I am here, no matter how much I explore, there is always another corner to turn, another street unwalked which will suddenly and without warning present you with a view which you were not prepared for, and which is unlike anything else you've seen before in the city.