Showing posts with label General Cemetery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label General Cemetery. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 May 2016

She's not there


Day Off + Things To Do (x many) = Fuck It.


I went to the General Cemetery instead.


Bright sunshine...


blue skies...


acid greens...



and plenty of sun flare.



It's been a while since I visited, but this place always calls me back.

Trying to explain it to someone who has never been and doesn't share the Victorian Graveyard Love makes me sound like a freak. So be it. 


It felt a little different; much of the overgrowth has been cut back and some trees have been cropped.

Necessary, I know, as part of the ongoing renovation work, but part of me regrets the loss of the wilderness...


although there is enough left to enjoy. 


I went to enjoy the silence, only to find myself sharing the space on this occasion with more than the occasional dog walker. 

A gaggle of school girls with their teacher working on an art project; a chatty man with his over-friendly if delightful dog; a couple of young women sharing a fag on a bench as they rehashed the events of the night before and planned their future festival tent arrangements; and two drunk-ish men with a supply of cans. 

No matter - they all passed through and left me to myself. 


Having posted photos of the cemetery before ( here, here and here), I was interested to see if I could see something different this time.
  

There are some gravestones I hadn't spotted before. 

Ubique is the motto of the Royal Artillery Regiment; Army Pensioner George Myers had been at the battles of Sebastopol and Inkerman during the Crimean War.

The shield-shaped headstone is for Annie Paine, Adjutant of the Salvation Army, promoted to glory April 25th 1914. Interestingly, there is a second inscription underneath for Helen, beloved wife of Major Jonah Evans, who died a year after Annie. Sisters? Secret lesbian lovers? I'm hoping for the latter.




And if I have already photographed most of the graveyard, I can always tinker with effects.






I know how she feels; I feel like shaking my fist at that non-existent God too.

I had a brief scan over my recent blog posts and was struck by how dull they have been; a dirge of repeat complaints about how busy I am, and tired apologies for poor blogging form. I'm boring myself, never mind you.


1960-70s lurex maxi skirt - Ebay
1970s velvet jacket - Leicester vintage shop
Sunglasses - vintage market
Ankle boots - charity shopped

I need to just stop. I don't intend to stop blogging, it's too precious to me - the friends, the conversations, the connections, the inspiration and ideas, I need them all. And I need this outlet for whatever nonsense is circling around my brain too.

But I am keenly aware of my lack of presence in the blogging world, and I feel guilty, frustrated and disappointed.

I'm going to wait until I can do this properly again.


Please don't bother trying to find her - she's not there. 


Hopefully it won't be too long.
And I hope you'll wait for me.

xxx

Monday, 3 November 2014

Guess who's living here with the great undead?


Long-time readers of this blog will know of my great affection for Sheffield's General Cemetery; it has already featured in posts here and here.


In the spirit of loving where I live, I returned today for a wander in the autumn sunshine.

At the risk of sounding antisocial, I really enjoy time alone, and I especially like spending it here. 
 

I passed Sharrow Mills, where snuff manufacturers Wilsons and Co have been in operation since the mid-18th century and continue as a family-run business today.


Heading down Frog Walk...


along the side of the Porter Brook...


to the gatehouse of the cemetery.

Wandering here is a tranquil experience; it's hard to believe you are in a busy suburb of a big city.


There are catacombs...


graves leaning against trees for support or genuflecting in the undergrowth...


fine romantic monuments in the Greek style (this one is to William Parker, a cutlery exporter)...


and an Egyptian-style Non-Conformist Chapel, which is currently undergoing renovation.



 This is how it looked back in 1836 (from the cemetery website here).



1960s Kenrose dress - flea market
1980s jacket - vintage shop
Ankle boots - Ebay
Bangles - charity shopped
Carpet bag - gift


There are favourite ladies...


and graves telling such sad stories;


brothers Albert and Ebenezer died 10 years apart...


three of John and Sarah Andrew's daughters died in five years, all under a year old...



while William Wilson lost both his wife Sarah (who probably died in childbirth), and 3 months later, his baby son.

I wonder whether he was part of the Wilson family who ran the snuff factory?


 The derelict church has scaffolding and protective netting in place. I doubt it is being repaired, I think it's more likely to be a precaution against masonry falling on passing dog walkers.


 I saw more squirrels than people this morning...


which was fine by me.








Without the slightest inclination towards any faith at all, I find this place endlessly fascinating.


It's good to find a place that soothes the soul. 

xxx