Regular readers could be forgiven for thinking I have a melancholy mind. I keep a notebook which I fill with observations from my everyday life in and around my city of Birmingham. From time to time, I share snippets from my notebook here on my personal blog. This year, my observations have been bleak. My latest, a postcard from the end of the world, especially so. My hope is that after seeing these photos, you will see that I am not dressing things up, or rather down, but rather aiming for a truthful portrayal of Birmingham. I love my adopted home town, but it has seen better days.
New leaves on my pilea peperomioides after I gave it a few drops of fertiliser. It’s really quite dark inside now that we’re through to November, and some of the lower leaves were starting to turn yellow and drop off. I knew it wasn’t from overwatering as I’ve really got a handle on that now, but thought a little bit of food might help make it happier as I grow my plants in a soil free mix – coir, perlite and bark – and thought it might be short on nutrients as I hadn’t fed it since early September.
My fascination with house plants continues. I love epiphytic cacti and so I am currently rooting some cuttings I bought on eBay for the equivalent of a pot of tea and a piece of cake in a café – some rhipsalis paradoxa and lepismium bolivianum. They are hanging out growing roots in a jam jar alongside a young (already rooted) selenicereus chrysocardium I am hoping will grow big and strong come spring. I just love these plants, they have such strange shaped foliage and really beautiful flowers if you’re lucky enough to get them to bloom, and they do well in bright, indirect light – which is just as well as that’s about all I can offer them in winter!
I’m writing this to pledge to myself that there will be no more plants – or cuttings – until at least the spring though. The light is fading fast now that October is here, and I don’t want to overstretch myself given that space is limited and I’m still very much a beginner when it comes to plants. I am really enjoying growing things from cuttings and small starter plants, it’s a cheap way to get in to house plants and it’s really rewarding to watch roots grow and new leaves emerge over time. Just this week my sansevieria masoniana has put out a new pup which is unfurling daily, much to my delight. It’s like watching paint dry in terms of action, but I find it strangely mesmerising.
2020 has seen many of the things that I enjoy get cancelled. The spring shutdown meant that I couldn’t get out to the hills, couldn’t go hiking in Wales, and couldn’t work – weddings were banned and physical distancing meant that I couldn’t work on portraits or my documentaries either. The continuation of restrictions – and uncertainty – throughout the summer meant that we didn’t go camping like we usually would, and now that we’re heading into autumn, I can feel the walls closing in again as the second spike / peak / wave / call it what you will of the pandemic begins. I have no idea when I will next go to a punk show, go camping, or work – either a wedding or on my documentaries which require me to be in close proximity to people in their homes. It’s shit. There’s no two ways about it.
Minou turned seventeen on Sunday. She put in a request for sunshine and a tub of coconut yoghurt to help her celebrate, and both her birthday wishes came true. I put cushions out for her in her favourite sunny spots on the balcony, and made sure that there were steps – carefully positioned chairs and an upturned flower pot – for her to use as she’s not got much strength in her back legs these days. She whiled the afternoon away on the bench, enjoying a couple of teaspoons of coconut yoghurt as the sun moved around. A good birthday, I think.
