Animation at the Film Fest

Among the movies I was eager to see during my annual week off at this year’s Edinburgh International Film Festival were two animated features which we’ve mentioned on here before (regular readers will know of my fascination for all forms of animation) - the Australian stop-motion film Mary and Max (that rare thing, a feature length, independent animated movie aimed at an older audience) and a more traditionally animated 2D offering from Ireland’s Cartoon Salon, The Secret of Kells, which was created primarily for a younger audience.

The Secret of Kells

(an illuminated text version of Aisling and Brendan)

Regular readers will probably remember me mentioning this rather beautiful Irish animation a few times before on the blog - artist Cliodhna Lyons (Irish 24 hour comics day) first put me on to it last year as she had been involved with the Cartoon Salon in Kilkenny and the descriptions and artwork I saw had me hooked. It is an Irish-French-Belgian production and this and the graphic novel based on the film meant Kells also had a presence at this year’s prestigious Angouleme Festival, which Wim covered back in January. Drawing (no pun intended) inspiration from the fabled Book of Kells, one of the incomparably beautiful books in the history of world literature, The Secret of Kells offers up the tale of a young monk, Brendan, a novice at the monastery of Kells where his uncle is the stern, towering, grim-face abbot.

It is an evil time for many - Rome is but a distant memory and the Dark Ages have fallen across much of Europe. One of the lights in the long, dark night comes from the early church and most especially in the monastery’s preservation and dissemination of learning and the dim, early days before nations like Ireland and Scotland were actually nations, but were slowly being forged in a cauldron of oral myth, the unique Celtic brand of Christianity, small kingdoms becoming larger kingdoms and the testing by fire of brutal events like the seemingly endless invasions of the Norsemen - the Vikings. Off the Western coast of Scotland, among the many islands which scatter there though the seas lies the spiritual home of early Scottish Christianity and it is from here that Brother Aidan must flee as the Viking raiders sack this sacred site and slaughter or enslave the holy men who live there, destroying or ransacking everything within. Aidan flees with a remarkable book, the Book of Iona, still to be completed after many long decades of patient illumination by many gifted, scholarly monks. Bringing it to Kells he hopes to complete it with the help of brothers in the scriptorium there, but the abbot has lost patience with such things, being totally obsessed with building walls and defences against the inevitable Norse assault he knows will come on Kells and the monks and many villagers who have fled there for protection. He actively discourages his young nephew from helping Aidan, who, now finding his old hands to unsteady for the job, seeks a gifted replacement to finish the book.

Disobeying his uncle Brendan steals into the forest, a dark place, home to strange creatures from Irish folklore, dark wolves, standing stones, strange caves, home to mythical beings. And a forest sprite in the form of a young girl (Aisling), who is suspicious at first but soon warms to Brendan until the two become close friends.

The film is beautifully animated - the artwork is often simply gorgeous, as befits a work inspired by one of the most beautiful cultural treasures in the world. Sometimes the characters appear to be walking in an odd way compared to the background and it felt to me that this was a deliberate style adopted by the animators; its as if the characters are flat and walking across a flat background, which seems appropriate to the art style of the period, long before the more normal (to us) adoption of perspective in Renaissance art much later. Some scenes are also broken into split screens, little triptychs which recall the lovely, large header illustrations common in many illuminated books of the period, while other scenes again draw directly for their design on the unique form of illuminated texts which the Celtic school of Christianity created, people, animals, beautiful plants, flowing script and twisting, interwoven lines and knots combining into something so beautiful it almost makes you cry (so beautiful its mere sight is supposed to blind sinners as Brendan says), while other touches are small and subtle, such as the way the dappled light sparkles in the forest as the sun comes through the leaves.

Contrasted against this the Norsemen are depicted mostly in shadows, dark black and blood red outlines of hulking figures, swords and horns, recalling the demon from Fantasia (for which the great Bela Lugosi posed for the Disney animators, long before motion capture). Their acts, while never shown in detail, are brutal, dark, terrifying - for a film aimed primarily at younger viewers possibly a bit scary, but then they should be and I think its good that the animators don’t hide the horrible brutality of the period, especially as it makes the book stand out all the more. Too late the abbot will realise that his endless obsession with defences will still not halt the tide of Viking onslaught and that while they are all transient beings the book is more important then any of them or the abbey itself; the book is a symbol of the light, a beacon to shine a path out of the Dark Ages and to touch the souls of men and women for eternity (as it still does to this day). But only if Brendan and Aidan, with help from Aisling and a rather smart cat can save this remarkable work of art.

(the demonic Norsemen attack)

Its an utterly beautiful film - there’s a lovely adventure and a tale of friendship, of learned responsibilities, of what is most important, of coming of age, of saving what you can against the ages, served with a helping of folklore and fantasy, some humour and some wonderful moments of wonder that will have the eyes of child audiences open wide and the eyes of the adults too, all served up with some beautiful, traditional animation, which moves from the reasonably simple to the gorgeously elaborate scenes directly inspired by the Book of Kells. And as a bonus hopefully it will inspire kids to learn more about our history and our shared culture. Sadly there is still no news on a general UK release as yet, so at the moment you will need to watch out for it at film festivals. Which is a huge hint to any film distributors out there - this is beautiful, enchanting adventure with soul and culture and it needs to be seen by more people (and parents its a perfect one to take your kids to). And its not just animation lovers like me - Secret of Kells took the much vaunted Standard Life Audience Choice Award at the Edinburgh Film Festival - that’s an award cast by actual audience members as they leave the cinema, not an award given by critics, so obviously the audiences here loved it too; you can find out more on the official movie site here and director Tomm Moore's blog.

(director Tomm Moore - pictured centre - at the UK premiere during the Edinburgh Film Festival, from my Flickr stream)

Mary and Max

Also at the Film Festival I was lucky enough to catch another animated film I have been eager to see for months, Mary and Max. The first Australian film every picked to open the prestigious Sundance Festival and also the first animated film to do so (which is a strong indicator of how good it is, as is its award at Annecy), its one of those movies which has been gathering impressive word of mouth on the international festival circuit, although like all indy films that is only half the struggle - getting general releases in various countries is another matter and good showings at film festivals is part of that hard slog of getting the film seen by a wider audience (a task made harder by the fact its an animated movie made for adults - most film companies won‘t know how to market such a thing). And does Mary and Max deserve to be seen by that wider audience? Oh yes, without a doubt yes.

(Max Jerry Horowitz from Mary and Max)

This lovely, stop-motion tale is essentially a story of two damaged, lonely souls who find a remarkable connection across the world. Young Mary is a little girl in suburban Australia, with no friends at school, a funny looking face that gets made fun of, a father who spends most of his time on his hobby of taxidermy (using roadkill for subject matter) and a mother in hair rollers, hideous glasses and constant alcoholic and smoking fugue. It’s a lonely upbringing and Mary escapes into imagination and her love of chocolate and the animated show Nibblets. One day while her mother shoplifts items from the local post office Mary leafs through an international phone book, wondering at the ‘strange’ names in an American directory. On an impulse she decides to take down the details of one random name and write him a letter to ask about life in America.

Max is a middle-aged, obese Jewish man living in 70s New York, also a lonely, damaged soul (as we find out later, he has Asperger’s, which is one reason he has difficulty in relating to people until Mary writes to him), flitting between a succession of jobs, a number of fish (which keep dying and being replaced) and trips to Overeater’s Anonymous which are rather defeated by his love of chocolate. He is quite surprised to receive Mary’s letter, complete with some samples of chocolates from Australia and very soon they are swapping letters, chocolates and little bits of their isolated lives to something neither had before - a friend. It’s at this point that the situation could be seen as straying into potential landmine territory - lonely young girl corresponding with isolated, lonely older man? You can almost imagine a red-top tabloid screaming headline now. But it isn’t like that. Somehow these two damaged souls have found what they needed, a friend, and an unlikely relationship blossoms before, inevitably, hitting some more stormy seas, not least when a more grown up Mary, now at college, studies psychology and uses Max as her main subject.

The film doesn’t try to hide the shortcomings of the characters any more than it tries to wallow in sentiment - it simply presents them and the many little facets of growing up and life that everyone can identify with, from finding out the illicit pleasures as a child of sneaking a tin of sweetened condensed milk to the shattering implications of a dear friendship being damaged (and also presents Aspergers with some sensitive understanding). It’s often funny, sometimes quite sad, but even when sad it is that beautiful kind of sadness that draws you in. The animation is all done in stop-motion and looks wonderful. I have no problem with CG animation but there is something I always find fascinating about stop-motion, the fact that, as the producer (who did a Q&A after the screening) remarked, everything you see on the screen was there, it was all designed, built and then painstakingly moved by hand, frame by frame; its all real, every item you see on screen was touched by a person putting life into it.

(Mary Daisy Dinkle wrapping up another package for her pen friend)

The voice talent boasts Toni Collette and Philip Seymour Hoffman, both agreeing to work for a fraction of their normal movie fees simply for the love of it (another indicator of how good this film is) and the narration comes from none other than the great Barry Humphries, who apparently they were huge fans of and terrified to meet, but he was charming and agreed to do it, even if he noticed Mary’s mother had a slight touch of the Dame Edna about her. It’s rare to see independent animation features and even rarer to see one aimed at an adult audience (although I think it’s also quite suitable for a YA audience too). There’s more than a touch of the Edward Gorey (or his modern heir, Tim Burton) to some of the style and humour, not so much Gothic but in the dark humour that life often throws up. What can I say except I absolutely loved it and, like the Secret of Kells, I hope that some film distributors pick it up and give it a proper general release here. Meantime, if you see it on the programme of a film festival near you, take my tip and go and see it.

Hopeful hound

I love the hopeful expression on this dog's face as it watches it owners eating away at a street market. You can almost hear the poor dog thinking "drop it, drop it, drop it..."

Not Always Right

Here's a good site for all those who now or in the past have had to deal with the public, some of the stupidest complaints, comments or questions asked by customers (and I'm sure many could add a lot more tales to these!): Not Always Right.

"I'll see you on the Dark Side of the Moon"

"And if the dam breaks open many years too soon

And if there is no room upon the hill

And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too

I'll see you on the Dark Side Of The Moon" (Pink Floyd, Brain Damage)

I'm currently enjoying my annual smorgasbord of movies at the Edinburgh International Film Festival where among the movies from around the world is a low budget, independent British film by Duncan Jones (previously known as Zowie Bowie - yes, David's wee boy, but commendably he's deliberately not playing on that, he wants folks to come on the film's merits). Moon is a most unusual beast - it's a British low-budget, indy movie that isn't a social realism piece set in a housing estate. Not that I have any problems with those (some bloody good films come out of that field), but it often seems in the UK film industry today we either make small budgeted social realism dramas or larger budgeted (still small by US standards though) historical costume dramas for the most part. A low budget Brit indy science fiction film? Unusual. And one which uses story and intelligence in lieu of dazzling effects and big explosions? Remarkable.

I was lucky enough to bag tickets to the UK premiere of Moon at the Film Fest here - both scheduled screenings sold out very quickly (although it has been added to next Sunday's Best of the Fest, essentially a Second Chance Sunday for sold out flicks from the Festival, book now before they are gone). Right from the start I liked it. Sam Rockwell (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Frost/Nixon) takes on a pretty tough role as he is mostly the only actor in the main scenes, apart from a few small spots (mostly video 'letters'), a technician manning a mining station on the far side of the moon on a three year stretch, his only company a computer called Gerty, voiced by Kevin Spacey (and with a screen showing emoticons as a 'face').

As the film opens there's a bit of a Dark Star vibe to the look and feel of it; like Dark Star, or the later Nostromo in Alien, this isn't the gleaming future of mighty starships like Star Trek, this is space as workplace. Its grimy, its worn, its dirty in places. Rockwell's Sam Bell at the start is a shaggy haired, straggly beared man talking to himself and his sickly looking plants or obsessively carving out his model of his small town home as he works alone on the Moon. The end of his three year tour of duty is approaching and Sam is counting the days until he can go home to his wife and little daughter. Rockwell does an admirable job of creating a convincing portrayal of a man who has been as isolated as it is about as possible for any human to be (even the live communication link has been lost due to solar flares, he can only receive and send recorded messages via a relay, no real time communication). His twitches and habits are believable of a man in that situation and the emotional desperation as he watches a video letter from his wife with their wee girl on her lap saying "daddy is an astronaut" is incredibly touching, you can feel his desire to be with his family coming out of the screen, but Rockwell wisely plays it subtly, restrained, not over the top or hystrionic, which enhances the emotional resonance, I thought.

There are little hints that the constant isolation and lack of even real time communications are taking their psychological toll on Sam. Watching a video from his wife it looks as if there was a sudden blip - did something change there or his strained mind just imagining things? Making a cuppa he turns around to see a young, teenage girl sitting in his chair, accidentally scalding himself in shock. He looks again and of course there is no-one there, how could there be? His sleep and dreams are equally disturbed. Returning to work he takes a lunar rover out onto the Moon's surface and approaches one of the huge, automated mining machines, making its way across the surface on its tracks, spewing out chunks of regolith from the back as it moves. When an accident occurs and the rover crashes into the mining machine, Sam blacks out, only to wake up in the base's medical bay with a concerned Gerty tending to him. How exactly did he return to the base, considering there was no-one else around to rescue him from his crashed rover? Confined to the base 'for his own safety' until he is recovered Sam suspects there is more going on than he's been told and engineers a method to get outside and investigate. What he finds will shake him to the core - assuming its real and not the product of a mind collapsing under years of isolation syndrome.

And on the plot I shall say no more because to do otherwise would mean revealing potential spoilers, which I'd rather not do (I will also warn you that a BBC article on the film here, while interesting, does, in my opinion, blow a major plot point, which is damned careless, so be warned if you follow that link). On the production side, as I noted Rockwell does extremely well with a challenging role, the feeling of desperation and tension are palpable and the effects have a suitably dirty, grungy look to them. I had the impression that the exteriors were model shots - not because they were poor, I hasten to add, but they had that lovely physical feel that CGI sometimes just can't manage (especially for dirtier, grittier looks such as the mining machines), reminding me (pleasantly) of the brilliant Moon models used for the likes of Space 1999. Director Jones and several of his crew were present at the screening and confirmed that they did indeed use physical models for those effects - in fact the same effects man who created the Nostromo worked on their models, which, as I said, looked perfect in the context of the film (and added to the physicality of the film in my opinion).

(director Duncan Jones talking to the audience in the Cameo Cinema after Moon's UK premiere at the Edinburgh Film Festival on Saturday, larger version on my Flickr)

When asked about the budget (around £2.5 million - yes, really) Jones said that doing an SF flick for that money wasn't too hard, but convincing the financiers that they could make this movie within that budget was much more difficult, they all assumed they would need a much bigger budget to achieve what they were planning (we should have asked for more money, quipped the producer). But through ingenuity they made it work - as their visual effects/designer guy pointed out its amazing the sets you can make with duct tape, paint and a bunch of Ikea flat pack furniture items (not that you can tell, it all looked very convincing). Jones told the packed (and very supportive) Edinburgh audience that they loved the SF genre and they wanted to veer away from effects-reliant 'tentpole' blockbusters and make 'smart SF'. I'd say they've done so. Its a hugely admirable effort (especially for his first feature), Rockwell is convincing as the central character Sam, the look and feel of the film is suitably grimy, its quite a while before we can really tell if Sam is cracking up and hallucinating it all or if something sinister really is going on and from the look of it you'd never believe it was made for such a small budget.

Its British, its Indy and its bloody good science fiction. Moon gets its general release in the UK on the 17th of July (appropriately close to the fortieth anniversary of the Apollo lunar landing) and is well deserving of your attention and support. I'm guessing with that sort of budget they won't have a mighty studio marketing machine, so if you like it, spread the word and give the guys some much deserved support for creating some bloody good Brit movie SF.

The Speaker election system explained

As the House of Shame prepares to elect a new Speaker many citizens are bemused and confused by the typically ancient and deliberately arcane methods used by Members of Parliament, which is not helpful when so much of the electorate are already put off from politics in the UK following recent scenes of mass greed and corruption allied to a rudderless government which appears to have no plans and a distinct track record of ignoring public opinion and concerns. Therefore your trust Woolamaloo Gazette's political department has created a clear-cut explanation as to how exactly this centuries-old process of electing a new Parliamentary Speaker takes place.

The entire unwieldy event lurches into being when candidates throw their hats into a ring to announce their intention to run for the office following the dismemberment of the previous Speaker (who is ceremonially stuffed, embalmed and mounted in the House of Lords). Today this is a figure of speech but back in the 1600s it was taken literally, where refined, corrupt gentlemen would actually throw their hats physically into a small ring, with the hats which landed closest to the centre of the ring dictating the running order of the election. Accidentally knocking out an opponent's hat from the ring (thus making their candidacy void before it really began) was seen as quite dishonourable and frowned upon. Doing so deliberately was perfectly acceptable, however. Today's politicians no longer throw actual hats, they simply have to walk around banging a large drum and yelling 'pay attention to me, pay attention to me, me me!'. The other Members of the House are, by tradition, supposed to ignore them during this part of the process for as long as possible until they simply can't take it anymore and agree to let that person stand for the post. This can last for several weeks and over the centuries of Parliamentery Democracy has caused the deaths by terminal boredom or asphyxiation due to excessive hot air inhalation of a number of politicians and members of the Fourth Estate and citizens.

The second phase is to take the remaining candidates into what is known as the Cromwellian stage of the election. All of the prospective Speakers must dress up as Oliver Cromwell (warts and all); a pack of King Charles Spaniels is loosed into the Chamber of the House of Commons and the Cromwellian garbed candidates must chase the floppy eared royal hounds around to the strains of the Benny Hill theme music and catch as many as possible, stuffing them into a burlap sack. The winner of this stage is the candidate who captures the most spaniels then rushes to Banqueting House and leans out the window where King Charles was lead to his execution and lean out displaying the canines and yelling "behold the pets of a traitor". Those with the fewest sacks of pups are removed from the candidacy. In 1822 there was a great scandal when a leading candidate was found to have cheated by indulging in 'puppy sack stuffing'. Deemed a dishonourable and untrustworthy scoundrel he was dismissed from Parliament and appointed as ambassador to France.

The next stage of the election sees the remaining candidates move out onto the riverside terrace of the House of Commons. Upstream a group of school children release a large number of rubber ducks with hooks attached to the top of them; underneath each is taped a sealed, waterproof packet detailing the expense abuses of various members of the House. As the squadron of rubber ducks pass down the Thames the candidates lean out over the side with large poles trying to hook out as many ducks as they can, the idea being to use the expense account information attached to each to blackmail other Members of the House into voting for them; obviously the more a candidate has the more Members he or she can press into their camp.

Since the press has effectively revealed most of this information publicly this year (and rather more efficiently and transparently than the official government attempt at openess) this stage will be abandoned this time and replaced by Duck-a-Speaker, where each candidate is arrayed on a hinged wooden platform suspended over the Thames with a number of targets in the shape of fat pigs above their heads. Members throw stones and if they hit the pigs, the pig's head drops into a small trough below them. Once all of the pigs have their heads in the troughs the hinge opens below the candidate and they drop into the Thames. This stage now has no actual effect on the voting process and is carried out simply for fun and to ensure the prospective speakers are well used to the rituals of public humiliation.

The final stage sees the actual election segment of the whole process; this has been made into a secret ballot so that Members can freely vote for the candidate their party bosses and whips have told them to vote for. Each goes into a curtained booth wearing only one brown, left shoe on their feet. A Masonic emblem is drawn by the candidate of their choice as the voting Member then turns three times widdershins reciting "God save the Queen" or in the case of Republicans or Atheists "By the Power of Grayskull". The secret ballots are then collected by the Parliamentary Hunchback who takes them in a silk sack to the Parliamentary grinder, who shreds the ballots before mixing them with barley and oats. The resulting combination is then spread outside to bring down gulls and crows to feast upon it. The birds have previously been had daubs of coloured paint (a shade for each candidate) applied to their wing tips and the winner will be the candidate whose birds eat the most first. To ensure outsider birds do not join in and skew results Prince Phillip stands ready with a shotgun and blasts any errant pigeons who stray into the venerated ancient gaurantee of British democracy.

The winning candidate, now Speaker, is then picked up on the shoulders of Members and carried to the nearest Clark's shoe shop to be fitted with the special buckled shoes of office. This is our ancient birthright of clear, transparent and fully accountable Parliamentary democracy which makes us better than everyone else fully protected for the people of this great land.

Pulling Gs

New research from the UC Berkley show that hummingbirds in a dive can pull 9Gs, enough to make a trained human jet fighter pilot black out and lose control. A little reminder that no matter how clever we think we are and what remarkable machines we construct nature usually managed it earlier and better... (link via Boing Boing)

Hummingbird Diving In Action from Science News on Vimeo.

Liver

Steve Jobs has had a liver transplant according to the BBC. I wonder if his new implant came loaded with Apple DRM crippleware and various operating restrictions?

Film Festival - celeb spotting

The red carpet on the opening night gala for this year's Edinburgh International Film Festival. Saw them setting up as I walked home from work this week so I stopped to watch. Sorry, the pics aren't the best quality as I had to stand on the other side of the road with all the pro media lot in the way, but you takes what you can at these things - still a fun thing to see on your way home from work! All the best celebs come to my part of town, you know :-) Click on the pics to see the bigger versions on the Woolamaloo Flickr.







Alan Cumming - boy he's come a long way since his Victor and Barry days when we saw him back in the old Mayfest in Glasgow.







Director Sam Mendes on the red carpet.








Sir Sean Connery returns from some sun-kissed foreign golf course to be with his chosen people (for as long as the tax avoidance allows!). I always think it must feel a bit odd to him when he comes every year (and to be fair to him he always supports the EIFF) as this cinema in the city's Fountainbridge area, built over part of the old S&N Brewery, is right next to where Sean's childhood home stood. He grew up on these streets, now each year he returns as the most famous living Scotsman.

Fleur de Saison

Rather like this video track of a French pop track by Emilie Simon, found by following a suggested link on YouTube while looking at some Dave McKean animations (on which note, we've got a major Dave McKean interview in the works for the Forbidden Planet blog in the near future to look forward to):

"Picture this"

Still on my rediscovering my love for black and white kick, took this shot in Edinburgh's West End yesterday on my way to speak to the Book Festival folks, the dome of West Register House which is the jewel in the crown of the Georgian New Town's beautiful and prestigious Charlotte Square. I took both a monochrome and a colour shot (mostly because the sky was such a lovely, clear blue) - which is better, do you think?








Personally I think this scene is better served in monochrome. And yes, I know I could shoot once in colour and then create a B&W version in PhotoShop, but as I've said before I prefer not to retouch my pictures other than a little cropping, alter contrast etc slightly, basically no more than I'd have done in my dark room film days, so if you see it in B&W here then I shot in B&W. I think grayscaling from colour in a photo package just seems a little flatter somehow, lacks the kind of silvery glow you get from proper black and white. Anyway, I took both to compare them.







and a slightly longer shot of the same scene taking in one of the gorgeous Georgian street in the West End with the dome rising above everything:

Brown is Watching. Apparently

Saw this stencilled onto the expensive wall of a Georgian building in Edinburgh's West End (tagging buildings is one thing, but really, street art wallahs could you not do it on listed, historic buildings, please?). I'd have thought Gordon was too busy watching his own Cabinet colleagues for sharpened daggers to watch us right now, but then he doesn't have to I suppose given the huge increase in surveillance and diminishing of civil liberties he and Blair have overseen during their corrupt regimes (for our protection, naturally).

Where to now?

Quick candid street shot on the Royal Mile, a young tourist couple looking at their guide book for ideas of where to visit next in Edinburgh. The Mile is incredibly busy now with visitors, but nothing compared to what it will be like come August and the Festival. And yes, I am still on a bit of a black and white photo kick at the moment, started off using it for architectural shots then decided I quite liked the way some street scenes looked in monochrome. I don't know why but I love capturing un-posed street scenes, I think it appeals to my sense of using photography mostly for 'honest' purposes (ie I don't rework them in Photoshop, usually what you see is what I saw, including monochrome shots - if its in B&W I shot that way, it wasn't in colour then grayscaled afterwards, I think that gives a 'flat' result) and my Gonzo Photographer ethos of not setting up shots and settings much but mostly shooting quickly from the hip at whatever catches my eye; not everyone's way of doing it (some prefer methodical set ups of framing, lighting and settings, I'm more of a spontaneous kind of person in this as in writing), but its how I work with my camera and I enjoy it. And with 31, 000 views on my Flickr stream I assume some other folks must like some of them too.

Heron

Walking along the Water of Leith, once a river full of industry, now a beautiful country walk in the middle of the city (and with some incredibly expensive properties dotted along it) we stopped to watch a heron wading for fish, its long legs moving in that slow, deliberate manner of wading birds. Right in the middle of Edinburgh. This is one of the reasons I love living here. The water of Leith passes fairly close to me and you can walk along its shady trees and use it as a quiet, off-road route to the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art and the Dean Gallery. Apparently some otters have moved back into it a bit further upstream from me, near the Water of Leith Visitor Centre (by the Union Canal aquaduct and rail viaduct), but I haven't been lucky enough to see them yet.

REligious ducks

Ever wondered how ducks go to church?

Riding on the beach

I'm usually more inclined to motorbikes than horses as a mode of transport (I think horses are beautiful creatures, but I prefer a mode of transport without a mind of its own), but riding along on the surfline on a sunny beach does look wonderful.