Loss and first steps to healing

I've not blogged all this month because one of the most terrible things I could imagine happened to us early in the summer. Very suddenly, after a short bout of what looked like a relatively innocuous illness, we lost DD's gran. My beloved mam, who was also my best friend, died and our world changed overnight. The shock has been so appalling that in all honesty I don't think we're grieving properly even yet - none of it seems real and every now and again I catch myself about to pick up the phone to tell her some news before reality strikes me, hard, and right between the eyes.

Because I knew that we can't afford, psychologically, to spend the bank holiday weekend in the house amid all our sadness, we took some tentative steps towards healing by spending some time at Belsay Hall. Beautiful surroundings and a gentle walk through glorious scenery helped to blow out some cobwebs from our weary souls. There, English Heritage is currently hosting an exhibition of art called Extraordinary Measures, which is very striking in its use of Belsay's magical environment.


We were particularly taken with street artist, Slinkachu's photographs of miniature figures which he'd placed around the grounds to take their chances in the face of the public, animals and the elements. The tiny models provided a wry commentary on what we humans do for days out: groups of people queuing for portaloos, or standing awestruck before a monument that was in actual fact an upended cigarette butt.

Mat Collishaw's The Garden of Unearthly Delights was housed in the Great hall of Belsay Castle. This installation was a mesmerising thing of utter beauty but also very dark and cruel in its message. It consisted of a zoetrope which conjured images of dancing butterflies, birds and imps playing in some mythical garden. But, unnervingly, the nasty little imps were up to no good: coshing fish, snails and other creatures seemingly for the pleasure of violence alone. Perhaps Collishaw sees himself as the Tarantino of the zoetrope?

I can't post images of the copyrighted artwork itself, but have included some photographs which we took on the walk through the quarry gardens that link the Georgian neo-classical Hall with the medieval castle, all dappled light and cliffs and ferns and ancient trees. The pathways looked to be likely homes for fairies and imps, be they Disney good or Collishaw evil, and added to our sense of being in a mystical place. It felt like the ideal place to be, with the dull ache of our loss nagging away at us, but enjoying the beauty in which my lovely mam, DD's fantastic gran, would have exulted.