Monthly Archives: March 2013

I want to –

Paint soooo much, but I just canny do it capt’n.

It’s my most worrying thing to do.

Sometimes I ignore it and just don’t look over at that whole other side of the studio, you know, the one with all the exciting colours patiently waiting to play.

But, I know it’s there, because it’s niggling a hole in the side of my head.

So today I’m going to get to it – it’s going to be a painting day.

(I think).

Lighten up girl. Inspector Lynley is still half heartedly trying to solve the graveyard murder, which is a convenient place to get murdered in if you ask me, and as I only listen to the story when I paint, he’s pretty much been dragging his heals over the whole thing.

It’s time to put a stop to this story before anyone else gets hurt.

Actually, I’m not really enjoying it, it’s more something to listen to really. It does kind of take the painting anxiety away a little by dragging me into it’s (boring) drama, a bit like taking a xanax really, although it’s been going on for so long now that if someone doesn’t tell me who did it soon and explain to me how the whole little sub story about the toddler murder fits in to the thing, someone is going to hear about it.

So I’m off out now to paint and listen. I’ll let you know how the whole sorry mess turns out … if it turns out.

A little something for you to mull on while you wait.

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Come on. You know you want to try it, if only to laugh out loud because you knew it wouldn’t work even before you tried it.

The clue here is (repeat if necessary), although the whole fizzy science experiment thing does sound rather exciting.


Exciting times in the studio.

There’s been a massive clean up.

Something apparently took over my body yesterday and lo!

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Can you say-what happened!

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Everything is in its place.

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Which is kind of frightening.

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In a creepy sort of way.

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But, I’m liking it.

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From this angle it doesn’t look like I’ve done a thing.

But, it’s my little piece of safe haven.

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As soon as I sit down here I’m in the land of, What? You want dinner? Sorry I don’t do that, but you can bring me a cup of tea if you want…

Now I just have to sort out the rest of the studio and the people who live here with me will think I’ve been invaded by the body snatchers-again.

It seems that now the jewelry has apparently worked its way to the top of my creative priorities I do have one little problem to fix.

The extractor fan.

It doesn’t work. Well, it half works in a very noisy, half working kind of way.

P made it for me, (I suspect with only half an effort), but I need something efficient now as the soldering fumes are taking over and my hypochondriacal self is beginning to get all up in my face over it.

Two things I don’t like about jewelry making.

1. wearing a dust mask

2. worrying about the fumes.

O.K., so I don’t like the nitric acid either, or the precious metal clay, but that’s because I haven’t quite got a handle on them yet and so they annoy the hell out of me.

(Yes, I need to know how to do everything, and I need to know how to do it well. What? You don’t?)

So, my next project, before I die of jewelry related fume and dust inhalation, is to make myself a better extractor fan without spending a thousand billion dollars on it.

Because that just wouldn’t be cost-effective.


“He smiled understandingly –

-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced-or seemed to face-the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.” Page 48, The Great Gatsby.

Don’t trust this man!

’nuff said …


I’m reading …

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Because I have to.

The first sentence that made me feel as though perhaps this wasn’t going to be as tedious a task as when I first attempted to read it, waaaay back in school, was:

“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him …”

Really that’s only part of the sentence, but you’ve got to love that word – gorgeous? There’s something, I don’t know what, about it when used here, by a man, toward a man. It smacks of jealousy to my mind, or contempt. Perhaps admiration, but I don’t think so. He’s probably merely sharing an observation, but what a great introduction to this man. I know immediately that I don’t want to like him, but probably will because he’s going to be all charismatic and charming, and we’re going to fall into his trap …

Either that, or I’m way off base and, as usual, am living in my own little made up world of what I think things should mean.

It reminds me a little of the way Patricia Highsmith writes about Ripley. Now, there’s a creepy fellow …

Anyway, I’m reading it because I can’t go to see the movie until I have, and the movie doesn’t look as dreary as the book seemed to be when I was a kid.

In the rest of the news: I spent yesterday painting. Sounds good fun but it ended badly. Going out there in a minute to throw all my brushes away.

How about you?


I’ve found a new love.

Gerard Collas.

And I love him

this much

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No No Wait

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THIS much

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And now I need to throw everything else out and make some sculptures.

Don’t you think we should all travel around on this?

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Just trotting along, out in the open, with the breeze in your hair and fresh air on your face and a little porthole to escape to when it rains. Which, of course, it needs to every now and then to water the flower.

This, however, albeit colourful and fascinating, looks a little crowded. I’d rather watch those people speed by frantically as I casually guide my humongous dog coach thing down the country lanes.

(Note: Always take the back roads if you can. Not as many accidents).

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They’ll probably get there faster, but one of them, namely the woman in the purse, has definitely left something behind on the kitchen table at home.

She’s out of luck as he’s not stopping anytime soon.

And this man

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definitely needs to pack a little lighter.

Else he’ll have a heart attack before he reaches wherever he’s running away to.

(Bless him. I feel worried for him now. I think his wife’s been nagging him a day longer than he can cope with).

Perhaps he should think about getting a horse.

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Definitely needs to avoid the angry fish though.

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And here are some other sculptures by him, just to make you feel really grumpy, but in that great, oh my god, look how wonderful, wish I was as good as him, way.

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(O.K. so that’s not so great. Kind of depressing really – in that, oh my god I might as well give up now, way).

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click photo to go to website

This last one reminds me a little of one of my favourite sculptures that resides in the Tate Gallery in London. You know, the one that just stands there waiting for you to come across it and stop in your tracks just to stare at it in wonder.

Prepare yourself to say Oh My God.

Jacob and the Angel 1940-1 by Sir Jacob Epstein 1880-1959

Jacob and the Angel 1940-1 by Sir Jacob Epstein 1880-1959

Look at it.

(Do you think it would fit on my mantle?)

 


While you’ve been waiting.

I’ve been in a funk.

It happens.

I’m still in the funk really but I thought you might all forget me so I had to drag myself back from the brink.

I’m not in as much of a funk as Colin Farrell though, he’s having a bit of trouble with his recall at the moment. Yes, we’re watching Total Recall – again. Arnold really couldn’t do the whole, please love me I’m confused thing, as much justice as Colin. Colin has that compelling, oh my god what’s happening to me, let me show you my anguish with my eyebrows, thing going on with his face that just seemed to elude Arnold. P was a bit upset when we first saw it as Kate is his girlfriend and he was kind of put out that they put her in the evil role. I say get over it P. She’s too young for you. What the h*^*! you thinking man …

Now Colin …

I think he likes older women …

And,

here are a few items of jewelry made in the funk phase.

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Just can’t seem to get that excited over them though.

Perhaps I can work it out with Farrell. If he can still save the world, or colony, or wherever they are, in his poor me, what’s going on here then, state of mind, then I can wake up funk-less tomorrow don’t you think.

Perhaps I need one of those phasey gun things though, oh, and that hand telephone …


And now we take you back to our normal programme.

I had a bit of a moment yesterday with the whole Nobel Peace Prize thing so I’m bringing it back down today.

I think it might have had something to do with the birthday champagne the night before, denial of my new age, and also the sugar rush from the tiramisu cupcake that I unceremoniously stuffed into my mouth for breakfast yesterday in that whole – don’t worry about frosting on the nose lets just stuff the whole thing in your face manner you see in the movies.

I don’t even like cake, but these were something else. BTW, thanks J for busting my diet I have to reluctantly go back to visit the caveman now …

Soooo, I found this.

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Michou P. Anderson

Can you say, oh my god, what!

Now, it might not exactly be your cup of tea but how on earth did she manage this?

It kind of reminds me of the pink bubblegum blobs my friend made when we took a lamp work class a couple of years back –

in that, night and day way.

So, what to do today?

These are waiting for me in some kind of limbo land.

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And, help it now, this has been in the kiln for ever just waiting for some friends to join it for the next firing party.

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So I think it might just be time to get to it.

Oh, and here’s a doodle to cheer you up.

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Just in case you need it.


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