Midsummer Moths

 

The fear of Moths is known as Mottephobia. I used to be mottephobic. When I was a girl, a bunch of my family went to stay in a little holiday cottage in Weymouth. Hey, it was the 1970s! One evening during our stay, my folks and Aunt went out and my big grown- up cousin Fran (I thought she was sooooo cool!) was in charge of baby sitting my brother and I. I remember going into the kitchen because I heard a noise. Something was tapping on the window. I thought it was my parents returning early. But no! When I pulled back the jaunty yellow gingham curtain, I was horrified to see moths battering the window with their little fat bodies. Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

It has taken a good few years for that feeling of horror to leave me. One of the turning points was in my early teens, when I found a White Ermine moth resting on the back of a door. I didn't know that moths could be so beautiful. It has incredible tiny feathery antenna, and a fabulously regal furry ruff at the top of the wings. Hmmmm, maybe moths weren't so bad.

 

Original image URL: http://www.flickr.com/photos/gails_pictures/4770458669/



One summers evening a few years ago, I found this gorgeous beastie in my bathroom. Wow! A delicate primrose yellow Swallowtailed Moth. I spent a long time just looking at him. I was able to coax him onto an envelope and took this photo before setting him loose in the garden. I knew then that my fear of moths was gone. Yes, I'm still not particularly keen on having them flitter around my head, but I would have to say I have become a bit of a fan.  





 

Mind you, all these years I didn't know that the splendid little scarlet and black Cinnabar was a moth. I always remember as a child, our garden being filled with them. My brother and I used to collect the caterpillars in jam jars. My cat, Sebastian, used to catch them in his mouth. He used to bring them to me as a gift. If I used to wiggle my fingers around his head, he would open his mouth and amazingly the Cinnabar would fly away free and unharmed! Perhaps, just maybe, I was a fan all along.

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/springfieldhomer/8731127563/

It is easy to see how moths have a reputation as creatures of the darkness. It's not solely due to the fact that most moth species are nocturnal. Moths have a creepy, sinister, otherworldly quality to them. In some cultures they are seen as the bringers of evil omens , or that they can turn into witches. In Jamaica, the Black Witch Moth is seen as the embodiment of a soul not at rest. According to myth, the Hawaiian Black Witch Moth is seen as the spirit of a loved one's soul returning to say goodbye. There are even places in Mexico, where people joke that if one flies over your head, you'll lose your hair. Coooooooooooool!

 

The idea for this post once again came from my trusty copy of the Collins Complete British Wildlife Photo Guide! The names of the moths are fantastic. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do

Mother of Pearl
Ghost Moth
White Plume Moth
The Lackey
Puss Moth
Sallow Kitten
Lobster Moth
Broad-Bordered Bee Hawkmoth
Chocolate Tip
Iron Prominent
Pale Tussock
The Vapourer
Ruby Tiger
Rosy Footman
Mother Shipton
Heart and Dart
True Lover's Knot
Hebrew Character
The Shark
Grey Dagger
The Miller
Nut-Tree Tussock
Old Lady
Lunar-Spotted Pinion
Angle Shades
Straw Underwing
Burnished Brass
Beautiful Golden Y
Peach Blossom
Pebble Hooktip
Lilac Beauty
Scarce Silver Lines
The Herald
Figure of Eighty
Blotched Emerald
Foxglove Pug
Canary-Shouldered Thorn
Scorched Wing
Mottled Umber
Oak Beauty
Peppered Moth

Birthdays and big celebration days are easy to remember. There is a strange kind of proximity alert that goes of in my head that will remind me to pop a card in the post in the nick of time. But amidst the washing up, school run and supermarket, the smaller anniversaries get missed and forgotten. A sad little feeling of regret and guilt comes with it. I  am belatedly remembering an anniversary of mine that is very important and close to my heart with this post.

 

Fifteen years ago on the 10th of May 1998, I got my first tattoo. It was one of the best days of my life! I decided on a nearby studio close to where I lived in South London. My friend Doug came with me for hand-holding and moral support. Doug was one of the first heavily tattooed people I'd ever met. Before I actually decided to get tattooed, he patiently answered all of my questions and concerns. Good to have an 'expert' on side :)  It took a while to settle on the design I wanted. I had borrowed a book of Albrecht Durer's woodcuts from the library for some research on an essay. The minute I saw  "Woman clothed with the Sun..." I knew that she was the gal for me. The work was done by a young lady called Michelle Collenette. Two hours later, I was a tattooed lady!

Albrecht Durer

Nobody told me that tattoos were moreish. I hadn't really occurred to me then that I'd ever get another piece done. Well, along came a second piece. This one, red hibiscus, I designed and drew out myself. To this day, it remains the piece that gets the most love.

The first tattoo convention I went to was in Dunstable, Doug again holding my hand. I've not been to many since, but this was a wonderful eye opener. I was amazed by the feeling of 'family' that came with it. It was here that I encountered the man who would tattoo most of my work - Mo Coppoletta . It's amazing how he translated my ideas into poetry on the skin. My sleeves, back piece, chest piece and feet are all by him. He has an incredible talent. I have garnered a huge portion of my tattooed education through working with Mo. The people, tattooists and tattooed, are fascinating for all sorts of different reasons! The gossip is fabulous.... When I first met Mo he was working up in Camden, at Bugs' fabulous studio 'Evil from the Needle' (Yep, some tattoo studios have erm, epic names......). He then moved to Into You, before setting up his own studio 'The Family Business' in 2003. It has to be one of the most exquisite tattoo shops in the world.



Mo Coppoletta

For the most part, my experiences of being a tattooed lady have been wonderfully positive. Because of my ink, I am in the design archives of the Victoria and Albert Museum. People are fascinated by tattoos. It's wonderful to see a barely controlled, child-like curiosity sneaking out when someone is desperate to ask a question, or wants to touch them. I am happy to enlighten.

Back piece in progress

Finished piece in the V&A Calendar

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 Of course, as with everything, there are the nay-sayers, party poopers and ignorant. I remember once at work in the library, being verbally abused by a colleague's father. Ugly. I understand that there are those who may not like tattoos. Don't look. I am not hurting you in any way. The colour of my skin does not affect my ability to do my job. Nor does it impede my ability to raise children, teach, do charity work, fight social injustice, go to the moon..... you get my point.

 

A tattoo day is a happy day. I wake up with a big smile on my face. It's a strange thing to say, but I feel so much more like myself with tattoos than I ever did without them. It's like my skin already knew what it wanted to look like. My 'self' explains itself on the outside. I have so much to tell you about how exciting and beautiful the world is! Happy 15th Anniversary skin! I love you! Here's to many more tattoos! 

 

My latest piece, a pinwheel by the divine Nic Garrod-Smith at Songbird Tattoo

  

Sure fire morale boosters

Ughh! January! Grey, cold, damp and dark. New year has never been a favourite of mine. I can feel the weight of all those 365 days pressing on me. Rescue remedies at the ready! Here is a short list of things that always make my day better.

Hearing a favourite song on the radio

There have been some beauts recently. I have started listening to a lot of 6Music when I am about the house. Some of the DJs really know their onions and play a delicious mix of old and new. My ears have been smiling to the sounds of XTC "Senses Working Overtime", Jeff Buckley "Last Goodbye", 808 State "Pacific 707" and the delights of new Nick Cave material.

 

Something unexpected in the post

Most of the stuff that comes through the post box nowadays is junk, bills or some random catalogue I never signed up for. (Dammit, it's the same with my inbox. Ugh!) But sometimes the delight of a handwritten note, card or postcard graces the doormat. It's such a joy to receive! It's knowing that someone out there is thinking of you. That's why I like sending postcards when I am on holiday. So you know that I love you. Look what arrived the other day. Je suis un lapin tres heureux! Thank you Hellcat for my fabu Betsey earrings and Boris brooch <3
 

 

Proper butter on hot toast

Actually, proper butter on anything! (This is why I especially love hotel breakfasts, yeah, the butter and the whole being in a hotel thing.)

 

Writing in pencil

This feels especially hopeful.  An exciting idea, a sketch, a recipe, a piece of poetry, a brilliant thought. Things waiting to be actioned!

 

Afternoon movie matinee

Finding a peachy film on television in the afternoon is heaven. The combination of mouthwatering costumes, fabulous hair dos, a cup of tea, nice biccie, and blanket if need be are guaranteed to make me smile.

 

First green shoots of Spring

How can this fail to make you feel better?! The daffodils are sprouting in my garden already :D

 

New Books

One of my favourite things about working in the library was the proximity to all those lovely new books. The smell, the smooth clean pages, being the first person to enjoy that particular copy of the story. I got some lovely new books for christmas including Pip Lincolne  "Meet me at Mike's", Vladimir Propp "Morphology of the Folktale", Mike Giant "Muerte", Guiseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa "The Leopard", Judith Magee " Art of Nature" and a very wonderful Wellcome Collection exhibition catalogue about the art of Death.

 

 

 

Clean sheets

If I won the lottery I would have clean sheets every night. The sweet smell and crisp freshness of soft new sheets is just blissful. 

Something vintage in my size
Rare as hen's teeth. Thank heavens for handbags.....

Queens Of The Stone Age
LOUD. That is all.