It's a quaint 21st Century custom. Apparently. I say apparently because, being of the 'quaint' ancient type myself, it is a phenomenon that has only just made itself known to me.
I have been 'tagged' by the delightful, witty and talented blogger, Aubrey. Follow the links to her blog. Prepare to be beguiled. You will never think of the sunset or a tree or a cat in the same light again.
I am to answer the following 6 questions. It feels churlish to refuse the invitation.
1) What were you doing ten years ago?
Same job - teaching art to 11-16s. Same school. Same shit - maybe a tad less of it. Maybe cos am older I am more immune to it? Marriage was coming to its inevitable end. Hanging by a thread... a delightful thread, a son. Silly me, I thought I was doing so well to keep my need for escape a secret. Hah. He saw right through it and was not in the least surprised when it all got real. Also I seem to remember I was worrying about being forty. What a waste of energy that was. I was discovering the joy and frustration of watercolouring. I may have been singing still. Memory does strange tricks with time.
2) List five non-work things on your to do list for today.
Sheesh - since it's only 7 am that list is so huge so as not even to be formulated yet. It's all mush in my head. It's Friday... I must...
remind son he has dentist appointment tomorrow - does that count as a work thing? Kinda. Since it's a chore. Let's go someplace else... erm...
I need to photograph some recent artwork to go onto the website.
Gotta complete that artist's statement they need too. Sooo hard talking about my work.
Remember to give the tomatoes their first feed - even though the plants are only tiny with no flowers yet. Whatd'ya reckon, Doug?
Remember to bring the textured tiles home that I made so I can make some collagraph prints from them this weekend. German exhibition approaching too fast.
Remember to charge camera batteries - photographing my brother's friend's wedding tomorrow - such a responsibility - contributing to the memories of others!
Is that five yet? Lawd - this is exhausting.
3) Snacks I enjoy
How much time you have? I eat all the bad stuff...cake, nuts, biscuits - you get the picture?
4) If you were a billionaire - what would you do?
This means after I've solved world hunger/war/animosity/restored peace/ made my family and all my friends very comfortable etc. etc?
Okay - erm - on the one hand I'd be totally selfish - have a studio built somewhere warm and next to the sea. Fill it with art materials, books, music and cake.
With the other side of my brain I'd spend it on developing an alternative fuel that wasn't fxxxing up our planet.
5) Places I have lived
But if I say these out loud a mad axe murderer might come get me? Let's settle on - various bits of this island.
6) Jobs I have had
Boring I know, but I've only ever been a teacher and got paid. Of course being a mother fills a whole other set of job descriptions :-)
PS - If anyone actually read this far - I'm not blogging recently cos my puter won't allow me tp upload pics - at least that's what the helpers at Vox are telling me. So I await my 'puter guru's return from holiday to cast wicked spells on this box of tricks.
Sharing my passion with Aubrey here.
Only my nearest and dearest will know how much it means to me to have my own squire - and yes - the gate to our allotment has one. Isn't it just beautiful! I biggerised the photo and got up close and personal so you could see all the details. Isn't it fab?
Oh but I do.
Look at the allotment that neighbours ours!
He must have seen countless neighbours like us come and go and most likely wonders if we'll stay the course.
I wonder too - when I look at our plot and see what a daunting thing it is we're undertaking.
But - there is something very satisfying about planting things into the earth. No doubt it's even more satisfying when you get to take them home and eat them.
I'll let you know when that happens. Note the optimistic use of the word 'when' and not 'if'.
I do feel noble. One tiny patch of earth cleared and some onions planted and I feel so.... well, proud. Yes, proud. Ridiculous huh?
And another opens. Isn't that what they say?
Maybe this is symbolic and deeply meaningful and portentous.
Or maybe it's just chance.
The door to our newly acquired allotment. My little brother invited me to share. It's gone over a bit he said. Master of understatement we are in the North East. Here's Tris waist deep in nettles and other lush stuff that we will have to kill in order to make room for things to grow and eat. It seems an impossible task. It's like this throughout the whole plot.
And part of my problem will be working and not 'ohing and 'ahing' at all the great stuff there is to photograph.
But we made a start... found three bathtubs in among the nettles. Always useful. Never know when you might be caught short.
I took a peek over the fence at the next plot. Delightful old guy there - not a weed in sight in his plot. Been tilling his soil for forty years. I asked him if he fancied a swap. Can't understand why he declined.
Maybe he just didn't want us to miss out on the pleasure of.... breaking our backs?
Watch this space.
It's real. It may be ephemeral, but it's real - and it happens every morning - and the neat thing is - it happens if I'm there or not.
When I miss it - because it's minus something out there - or I sleep through it, my day feels spoiled. The morning gets away from me. And that turns into an afternoon. It's as if when I don't get going first thing in the morning there is a cloud of funk hanging over me for the rest of the day. The cycle isn't right. My rhythm is wrong.
This morning I photographed it, came home and prepared a herby chicken casserole - checked out some images and
wrote this blog - and it's not 8 am yet - see - and the day is still full of possibilities.
“What you saw of my world is gone... it wasn’t any more real than the gold on the hilltops put there by a sunset.”
Once upon a time, every hundred years or so - a village of dreams appeared from the mist to become real. The inhabitants awoke to live a day in human form.
A day is long enough to fall in love.
A day is long enough to have one's heart broken.
A hundred years is not long enough to heal it.
Well - it broke... leaked in fact.
Plan B
Coastal Art project deadline looming.
Got a couple of safe seascapes done, but want to proffer something a little more challenging to the selectors.
I have an idea which will combine my photography, my words and my painting. See below. Watch it evolve. See me chicken out... maybe. You can click on these images and they biggerise. How neat of the Vox people to allow that. How dumb of me to take this long to realise that?
Hear that? That fizz of foam as a hundred thousand trillion megabytes of ocean finally dissipate into the sand? That's the sound of an approaching holiday.
Please don't tell anyone.
They might decide to cancel.
:-)
Recent Comments
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Aubrey said:
[this is good]A teacher of art. How it all falls into place. Living on the cold island. The fierce but mellow images... read more
on A Virgin Tagging -
Liz said:
I'm not the guru, but I have been his apprentice for some while. I'm willing to try to lend a... read more
on A Virgin Tagging -
Seery said:
Thank you, Aubrey, for putting words where my colours are. read more
on Colours for Aubrey -
Aubrey said:
[this is good]That is as bright as jewelry. Are those diamond chips on the left? And what are those embers doing in... read more
on Colours for Aubrey
Well-rounded - already there :-) read more
on A Virgin Tagging