14th Sunday of the Year. Have just discovered this jaw-droppingly beautiful photo archive of 1960s Catholic Street Altars and Marian Processions from London's East End.

The Legion Of Mary and the Knights of St.Columba are fully in evidence here. Such social cohesion and cultural identity is now long gone of course, successfully eroded by the total triumph of consumerism. You mean there was once something else to do on Sunday other than go shopping?

For more, go here.

Rest In Peace, George Melly. I was sad to read the obituaries for genial George in today's newspapers. This son of Liverpool deserves much more praise and recognition than current Scouser embarrassments like Paul McCartney. I'll remember him for many things. His three volumes of autobiography, Scouse Mouse, Rum Bum & Concertina and Owning Up. His championing of Surrealism and Outsider Art. His scripts for Trog's comic strip Flook and screenplay for 60s satire Smashing Time.

The one time I saw George Melly in person was suddenly recognising him standing on a London street corner, observing the unfolding scene. He was wearing a lilac fedora and vivid checked suit, just like he might've worn on stage with John Chilton's Feetwarmers. I was deeply impressed that his eccentricities weren't just fabricated for the gaze of the media.

Above llustration of George Melly is by venerable cartoonist Trog (aka Wally Fawkes.)

Packaging which should never be up-dated: Only the most media-brainwashed dolt could fail to be charmed by these classic Tunnocks biscuits box designs. From the original hand drawn lettering to the rosy-cheeked Caramel Wafer Biscuit laddy and the snowball chucking pair of Scottish bairns, all discerning consumers should be happily drawn into a nostalgic world similar to that of DC Thomson's Oor Wullie and The Broons. Tunnock's biscuits are the best - I hope one day to visit their famous factory shop in Uddingston...

The rain just won't stop! Here we are in July 2007 and today I lay on the bed listening to the now daily sound of thunder and torrential downpouring. The reasons for this cycle of wetness were explained in one of this week's newspapers but it was beyond my comprehension. Just in case Summer finally arrives, I thought it was prudent to now post another Rainy Day Activities strip.

This is how the cover of the John Bagnall BD Zine issue will look. The front illustration is of two teenage characters I call The Fairfield Prodigies. These have previously appeared in the Winter 2004 edition of Fantagraphics Comics Journal Special and a couple of my recent self-published chap-books. I usually avoid autobiography as I believe its the un-imaginative bane of "indie" comics but will admit the Prodigies are the nearest I will comfortably get to that self-indulgent genre. The urban 70s background you see is how things looked to me while growing up in Liverpool, England and the nylon anorak wearing fellow to the right is myself, while the school blazer wearing youth on the left is my school-friend Graham, who is now a prominent Labour Councillor.

I mentioned in June 7th's post that I was drawing a strip for French mag BD Zine as a centre spread for an issue devoted to my comics. So here it is, in about 98% French! This series of strips is usually titled Two Up Two Down (re. the common phrase for a British terraced house) but I was told the French wouldn't recognise the concept so I altered it to One Up One Down re. the dialogue with the cheeky kid in the window and Polytechnical Derek.

Disappearing Concrete. Well, it was inevitable I suppose, but Owen Luder's 1967 brutalist masterpiece that is the Trinity Square Car Park in Gateshead (better known as the Get Carter Car Park) will very soon be demolished to make way for an expanded Tesco Extra Store. See the first picture for a record of this fine edifice when it was in a better state of repair...

I'll certainly pay a few last visits to Gateshead to mourn this Car Park skyline icon. However, down the road in Hartlepool is another distinguished concrete 1960s construction which I've always liked as much as the Get Carter Car Park. Hartlepool's zig-zag shaped Market Hall isn't really in the same league as Owen Luder's late Modernist creation but is surely of the same spirit and vintage. The above photo was taken by myself during one happy Saturday afternoon visit to this coastal town (which is often mentioned in Clement & Le Frenais' Likely Lads BBC TV Series.) Whenever I wander around Hartlepool's Market Hall interior I'm reminded of simple 60s optimism before it degraded into the cynical creation of today's inter-changeable malls.

The Neumann Press in the USA have been reprinting Catholic childrens books from the 50s, some in quite elaborate editions. Above are examples of colouring books for "little catholics" which appeal to me because I'm a big fan of this super-saccharine style of retro illustration. However the Neumann Press have loftier aims than nostalgia, these reprints are intended for home-schooling use. I'm all for Christianity being counter-cultural but surely these home schooled kids are in for a shock when they eventually discover 21st Century America is not filled with bobby socks, cute pups and friendly guardian angels?

Last Saturday afternoon in Spennymoor:

I was driving back from a couple of hour's walking around Bishop Auckland (a favourite market town with some well-stocked charity shops) when I noticed that Spennymoor, a satellite village of Durham, was only a minor left detour on my way back home.

I remembered that an old-fashioned ironmongers called Defty's was situated on Spennymoor's main street, with a rather nice faded beige and red fascia (see above.) I was happy to see this was still intact and that Defty's dimly lit shop interior still smelled of oil, damp sawdust and turps. I took a photo, and walked further on, noticing that many of Spennymoor's shops had already closed at 1pm. Surly gangs of track-suited Charva youths roamed the depressing precinct beyond a boarded up Kwiksave supermarket. Where was evidence of the current thriving economy here? On my way back to the car I caught sight of a British National Party poster blatantly displayed in the main window of a large pub and had to take a photo of it. Its message "We're voting for change, we're voting BNP" reminded me not to over-romanticise the places I record in this blog...

French mag BD Zine have generously offered to devote one of their next issues to my pleasantly musty comics. This has so far involved an email interview and I've been raking through my library of colour illustrations to choose some representative examples. But since this particular journal is only available in France, Belgium and the Netherlands I thought I ought to draw something in French. All credit to my sister Sue for translating this Two Up Two Down strip. Merci Beaucoup!

Will post the full page when I've done the colouring...

Yet another dis-used Methodist Chapel. This decaying Wesleyan edifice is from Chilton Moor, Co.Durham and has been boarded up for as long as I've ever passed it. Chapel life one hundred years ago was a vigorous social and spiritual force among the English working classes, a birthing ground for Trades Unionism, social justice and the "ranter" tradition of primitive and strident hymn singing. These non-conformist communities once stood as a strong alternative to the middle-class dominated Church of England and the Irish immigrant dominated slow re-establishment of Roman Catholic parishes.

These buildings may be undistinguished, with their Protestant mistrust of ornament, but whatever your creed/non-creed the almost complete disappearance in the 21st Century of friendly communal activity in favour of home-bound insular consumerism is surely a cause for great mourning...

Back alleys and back yards of Fencehouses, Co.Durham photographed this Bank Holiday afternoon. Very little neat uPVC in this neighbourhood and plenty of building improvisation with rusty corrugated iron and recycled planks.

This picture of a traditional terraced row in Horden Co.Durham (which I took on a Saturday afternoon a few weeks ago) captures a tiny glimpse of why I love Northern ex-colliery towns and villages. In these "properties" there is almost nothing for the fatuous Estate Agent to spin his dishonest blather about. No gardens, no decking, no conservatories, no block paved driveways for multiple cars, no proximity to retail parks, no"investment" properties at all. Silence reigns, quiet living goes on, apart from the odd flutter of a pigeon wing or the bark of a mongrel dog.

Two church notice boards. By their rather solemn nature, these don't change very much. Take a look at the Blackhall Co.Durham sign for some delightfully weathered expert enamel work, and feast your eyes on the central panel with its wrinkled paper poster (hopefully executed by a semi-retired ticket writer, still flexing his sable brushes for old-times sake.)

The St.Teresa's Catholic Church board is from Cleveleys, Lancashire. I have to excuse the insensitive service-time alterations made using self adhesive numbers probably bought from a hardware store - these were probably applied by a well-meaning and charitable parishioner.

I have attended Mass many times at this church over the years, while visiting my seaside sister, Susan. It is a giant red-brick barn of a building probably built in the 40's or 50's, that time of very large and culturally loyal congregations. The interior is airy, contains some nice pastel painted plaster statues, is well maintained, polished and has a likeable old priest with a strong Preston accent who likes to mention Coronation Street in his homilies.

Nose-picking is an unhygienic activity which should be discouraged before it becomes habitual in adulthood. If there were more ladies like the one in this Disappearing Phrase then this vulgar habit might now be less prevalent.

The Jesus Freak of Willington? While I was out hunting for hand painted signs this doorway in Willington Co.Durham caught my eye. The curling "Smile, Jesus Loves You" sticker was of a definite vintage and the firmly drawn blind made it enticingly hard to tell whether the property was abandoned or occupied. Was this terraced house once a hotbed of feverish evangelical activity or did it still contain a resident ageing Jesus Freak still wearing his/her sandals with wan memories of happy-clappy witnessing and non-denominational gatherings?

A comic strip in Latin. This is one of the Bagnall's Dailies published last year. Although the text is an Advent season prayer, the intent definitely wasn't religious. This was most certainly a formal exercise. I wanted to see if four totally un-related images could still work as a comics sequence if they were linked solely by a continuous set of words.

I'll stop explaining all this before I begin to sound too much like Scott McCloud....

It's the Third Sunday of Easter and here is the latest liturgical news from Rome. According to Pope Benedict's recent statement (Sacramentum Caritatis 2007) he urges that "the better known prayers of the Church's tradition should be recited in Latin and, if possible, selections of Gregorian Chant should be sung." I'm not a fierce member of the Back To Latin brigade (see above car-sticker) but it looks like some of us now have a bit of "dead" language swotting-up to do.

Dominus Vobiscum...

Faded signs update! Here are two vintage hand-painted beauties from an enjoyable drive last Saturday morning. The first is sadly only half a sign from an abandoned premises in Willington, Co.Durham. I like the light blue drop-shadow on the "M.A" and the rather elegant lower-case enamel work on the word "newsagent".

Farther down the road in the super-quiet market town of Crook I was entranced by the Ironmongers shop in the main street. This is a highly distinguished Victorian shopfront anyway, just look at that burgundy iron framework on the second storey. But here's a real Northern Archaological discovery: the current lower fascia has been removed to reveal the duck-egg blue original "Arthur Lax, Established 1840, Ironmonger". I had to record this one before it's covered up once again!

Statistics say that people are now much more likely to change employers or even their profession during their working lives. Try telling that to Nora in this Disappearing Phrase I drew last year.

Venerable Liverpool Beatnik Bob Parker contacted Bagnall's Retreat to make a comment on the recent "Northern Archaology" posts:

"...love all those images from down-at-heel post-industrial towns and villages. A few years ago I took some pics of city centre dereliction thinking I'd best do it before it got replaced by shiny new flat-pack buildings. Wonder why it is you, me (and everyone else I know) finds this forlorn abandonment much more aesthetically pleasing than the concrete, steel and glass so beloved of the redeveloper? Maybe it's an age thing..."

Thanks a lot, Bob, especially for coining the eloquent phrase "forlorn abandonment". Here are some more photos I took which hopefully illustrate that phrase. First is a long deserted shop in Wingate (see how dusty the venetian blinds look.) Second is a boarded up school in Easington Colliery (the manual instruction classroom entrance) and third is a row of lovely dilapidated sheds/garages in Fencehouses. All from (as yet) undeveloped corners of County Durham.

12th day of the month already and still no sign of any April showers. Was I wasting my time drawing the above strip? Thanks to global warming it looks like you're all going to get more time to play out on your bikes....

Happy Easter everyone! I hope none of you get spots from all those chocolate eggs you've been saving up for today....

Today is Holy Saturday. When darkness falls this evening the great Easter Vigil begins. Outside the church a fire is lit and blessed. The fire symbolises the radiance of the Risen Christ who dispels the darkness of death and sin.

"Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in Glory!

The Risen Saviour shines upon you,

Let this place resound with joy,

echoing the mighty song of all God's People!"

Photo is from the Cistercian Abbey of Genesee, USA.

During today's Good Friday services the cross is venerated by kissing the feet of a crucifix. Here are some of the words to a hymn traditionally sung in the Catholic liturgy while this takes place:

"He endured the nails,the spitting,
Vinegar, and spear, and reed;
From that holy Body broken
Blood and water forth proceed;
Earth, and stars, and sky, and ocean
By that flood from stain are freed.

Sweetest wood and sweetest nails,
Sweetest weight is hung on thee.

Thou alone wast counted worthy
This world's ransom to uphold;
For a ship-wreck'd race preparing
Harbour, like the Ark of old;
With the sacred Blood anointed
From the smitten Lamb that rolled.

Sweetest wood and sweetest nails,
Sweetest weight is hung on thee."

On a lighter note, I found three Good Friday superstitions from British days of old:

Eggs laid on Good Friday will never go bad.

Sailors took hot cross buns with them on Good Friday to prevent shipwreck.

Having a haircut on Good Friday will prevent toothaches for the rest of the year.

More from Wingate. This former colliery/pit village turned out to offer much more than a couple of fine vintage and faded signs. Never have I experienced such a magically desolate and abandoned atmosphere. The only sounds were cars swishing through on their way to more important places. On a Saturday afternoon its library, post office, barber shop and coach-travel agent were closed. Many former small-businesses looked long untenable. A dusty premises called John's Cafe gathered damp as its venetian blinds slid down discoloured window panes. Uphill, a large 1930's Co-Op building was For Sale, but who would be interested in purchasing such a multi-roomed monolith in this ghostly Northern backwater? Other commercial properties showed signs of vandalism, as did a formerly rather grand looking red-brick Police Station. All its windows were smashed...

I hear Wingate suffers more than a fair share of social problems. Wingate Grange Colliery closed down as early as 1962. Teenage pregnancies and drug problems abound. Yet, powerless to help, all my comments lie firmly in the aesthetic realm. As I fall asleep I'm unable to stop vivid memories of this place resonating around my brain!

Faded signs. Vintage hand-painted signage is becoming more scarce as the temporary turn-over of shop ownership increases. Shopkeepers have little option when all that seems to be available are ugly computer-cut vinyl fascias. Sometimes when a business has gone bust or is being refurbished an old enamel painted wood fascia will be revealed for a short time, like an archaological layer at a dig. The experience is almost like spotting a ghost. Perhaps you will only be lucky to catch a quick glimpse before the faded sign is covered up once more or even demolished.

Last Saturday I visited former colliery village Wingate (Co.Durham) to photograph this lovely example. As you'll see, the lower half of the empty shop is recent but the top fascia has been torn off to reveal an ancient looking three part sign for "Doggart's". This company once thrived in County Durham and I'm told a Doggart's Department Store stood prominently in Durham City Marketplace until the early 70s. This Wingate store must surely go back to at least the 50s? The lettering is carved into the wooden fascia boards and I'm guessing must have been covered in complementary coloured glass panels to give quite a classy deep 3-D effect. Such craftsmanship and so evocative of a lost era...

I was fortunate to find more at Wingate. Stay posted for more ghostly Northern Archaology!

Amateur signs. I love these almost as much as old style professional sign-writer work (and those are getting so scarce I feel like a jubilant David Attenbrough when I find a good one.) Here are two obviously amateur signs which almost border on folk art in their naivete.

First one for a Chinese Buffet was found in Bishop Auckland. This takes a highly painterly approach with liberal splashes of (gloss?) colour. Unashamed dripping is a feature as are quickly dabbed flower motifs. Every inch of space is filled, note the arbitrary repetition of the word "buffet".

The second amateur piece is from Horden, Co. Durham. The approach is entirely different, highly tentative, with no evident artistic "flair". There is no understanding of centre-ing the letters. These are applied using a stencil, but the maker couldn't resist dotting the i's (but on capitals?) In the end the sign was abandoned but remains fixed to the shop exterior in its full illiterate beauty!

Saturday night and the working week is over. Even pen-pushers with O-Levels will be thinking about leaving the wife at home with her knitting and having a pint or twelve down the local. Try this Disappearing Phrase out on the barmaid. She's sure to be impressed.

Closed Shops. I have a definite fascination with abandoned, empty or redundant business premises. Those with explanatory window notices especially appeal to my imagination. If you are a visitor or passer by you can only guess at the story behind these shops of mystery. When you peer through the dusty windows it's impossible to resist wondering what the owners were like, where they are now and did they ever get over their bout of ill health? I took the first photo in Willington and the second in Fencehouses, both Co.Durham.

Expect some more North East photographic posts as I now carry my camera wherever I travel. These spots of run-down beauty are worth preserving before they are ruined by re-development.