I asked Elspeth Owen, Max Burrows’ mum, to tell me a little about the founding of the Wooda Arts Award as I felt there was a bit of a hole in this blog. After all it is ultimately thanks to her mum that I am here at all. She wrote:
“She was called Jean but we all called her Dag – my father, her children and her grandchildren. She was born 100 years ago now, a lot of Scottish blood, very talented as a piano player – she was a student at the Royal Academy of Music in the 1920s. She loved laughing and joking and poetry and singing and gardening.
When my father died – she had already died 8 years before – he left us some money. One of my first thoughts was to buy a beautiful violin (“my” instrument) and give it to the Royal Academy for students to borrow in her memory. But I gradually turned away from that idea (I’m not too good at relating to prestigious institutions) and developed the Wooda Arts Award idea with Max and Gary. I think she would like the simple direct structure that we have given the Award and I’m sure she’d be very critical of your ukele jamming!
Her FATHER was in fact called Eric. So there’s a taster about my mother.
I feel there is a gap about my Father’s role in the Wooda Arts Award. He’s the one that saved up all the dosh – for me and my brother and sister to have a good time after he was gone. Since he left me the money, I have been calling him “Jimmy Jones” and he has been “funding ” all sorts of things that would not really have been his rabbit. But I sense a certain insouciance creeping into his giving. It’s as if he has become a happy-go-lucky ghost. So I would like to raise a glass to the spirit of caution and careful husbanding that he personifies!”
Nick sent me this clip from YouTube. He suggested that the unfortunate dog may be dreaming of The Black Slotted Spoon.
Another good pal Svenja took the time to send me a picture of her overloaded desk at home in Edinburgh in order to show how hard she’s working, accompanied by a map of her brain. She is completing a PhD at the moment (come on, get on with it!).
I may turn the map into a printed textile. Svenja can get a shirt made up & use it as a revision aid, or a nifty way of cheating in an exam. Of course if she had been sensible & studied art, she could have simply submitted the shirt itself.
(Actually, looking at the arrangement of yellow vs blue, I would humbly suggest that this needs to mixing it up a little?)