Virginia Woolf, and pigeons

A visit to Bloomsbury

I have been running Soho Life Drawing for the last few weeks while the founder, Ann, has been away, and I usually leave my dog with my daughter which she has thoroughly enjoyed. Rose asked if I could go to London more often so she can have Ned, and as it was good thing to aim for with finishing the Birds of the A.T. I was able to feel wholly justified in having a day off. I wanted to head to the British Museum to see some Anglo-Saxon and Roman artefacts (I watch Time Team) and also see if I could find some Native American headdresses, resplendent with eagle feathers.

The train was busy with Bank Holidaymakers and London was extremely dry and dusty. It felt like autumn with all the brown leaves swirling around but I think the south-east is due some much-needed rain in the middle of next week to revive the poor plants and trees.

I called in at Choosing Keeping to see my Birds of Westminster logbooks as I made my way through Covent Garden and was thrilled to see them in prime position right at the till.

I bought a bottle of Old Gold Green Schreibtinte ink to make up for my surreptitious photos and general look of someone slightly questionable. I then headed for the BM. I spend my time being mildly but perpetually lost in the labyrinthine area between the Northbank and Holborn but thankfully there are maps at almost every junction. In spite of this I missed the British Museum as I was too far east so decided to head to Tavistock Square to find Virginia Woolf’s bust, the plaster version of which is in the Studio at Charleston Farmhouse. I also wanted to see where they had all lived as I’ve never actually properly touristed that bit of town, and visitors to Charleston often ask about the London origins of the Bloomsberries.

Having paid my respects to Ms Woolf and seen the Gordon Square properties, I sat down on a bench to eat lunch. Just as I did so, a couple of young boys (maybe 4 or 5yo) started running around the park chasing the pigeons. As soon as the birds settled, they would run into the group laughing and shouting at them. I could see various parent-type groups around but nobody seemed to be saying anything so as the boys ran by me I asked them if they could stop chasing the birds. They stopped and looked nonplussed in that rather adorable way young children do when they’re told something that challenges a familial doctrine, saying that their dad told them to chase the pigeons. I explained that the birds found it difficult and got upset at having to move all the time, and instead how about just doing some running around but not near or towards the birds? They decided to do races, and I thanked them for letting the birds have a rest. I was looking around for an adult bearing down on me but none seemed forthcoming; however I am thankfully not exactly in a threatening demographic.

After the running, the two boys came and asked me what I was doing, so I showed them my sketchbook and told them I was drawing the pigeons as they all had characters. We looked at the birds together and they then asked if they could draw while helping themselves to my pencils. I decided to ignore the prospect of sticky hands all over my Blackwing 602 and Caran D’Ache Swiss Wood pencils in the name of solidarity with the pigeons, and to be honest the boys did just draw with them rather than anything more worrying or unseemly! The heavily-pregnant mum came over to check everything was ok and that I wasn’t being disturbed, and we exchanged pleasantries so that was all fine.

I had taken my Leuchtturm up with me to finish it off so I can start a new one on 1st September (which is a Monday, hurrah! – I love it when the calendar is so helpful) so those pages have now been adorned with some impromptu sketches but I found that little chunk of interaction so wholesome, and I really hope I have helped change the minds of two youngsters when it comes to our pigeons.

“Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child, as it is to the caterpillar.”

Bradley Miller, Founder of the Humane Farming Association

The queue at the British Museum was enormous so I abandoned that idea and went to Cornelissen as I wanted to buy some new brushes and ivory black gouache, and get a couple of 2B pencils for my mum. I ended up get a few more things which surprisingly weren’t on my list (!) and while I was paying, I saw the person next to me making their purchase and it reminded me of being in a restaurant and wondering what they’ve ordered as it looks really interesting. I managed to resist being nosy, however, and after all the walking, I popped into The Hoxton in High Holborn to have a cup of tea and look at my sketchbook and my purchases.