New paintings and regular art updates.
Someone wants to buy one of the glass necklaces I made. She wants a definite one. But in the time period since she saw it and asked me to keep it she can’t remember which one it is. I did wrap it up but I don’t know if I put it on display again at my last craft fair, in which case I might be wrong. I want to be a helpful seller. I care about people getting what they asked for. I hope I’ve found it!
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We just came back from lunch at a pub called the Red Lion in Werrington, Staffordshire. Lovely food, and a view from the restaurant over the Staffordshire countryside. The leaves are still falling. There are some beautiful colours. It was clear and the sky was a cold blue. It was good to be snug and warm inside. Now I’ve got to get ready for a craft fair tomorrow. I need to finish a couple of paintings a d add some ribbon… Back to work…
I played with colours on my phone photo editor. By moving the sliders up and down I got lots of light fringes like oil on water. Just wondering what else I can do with it.
Snow, I’m sitting here wondering if it will or won’t. It tried to earlier on, little ice crystal shaped flecks melting on my windscreen.
So cold and chilly, even with the heating on. We don’t use our gas fire any more because it’s too old. The gas central heating boiler is due to be serviced in the morning.
Snow doesn’t happen much these days. If it does its usually in the new year for a few days. Not months like in the early 1960’s when there was snow on the ground in Britain for more than three months. When the drifts in country lanes were so deep children had to walk across fields to get to school. My hubby remembers that. When milk froze in milk bottles at school and pushed the silver lids up and off.
I remember walking to school and the snow over topped my wellies and soaked my stockinged feet. In fact I haven’t had to wear wellies (Wellington boots) for years. I miss my old blue wellies in the snow. I miss pretending to track people by looking at the tracks their shoes made….
Someone said to me today? Why Vote, what’s the point? I didn’t jump down their throat, but I thought, why do I vote?
I guess I care about my world, my life, the people around me, family, friends. The people in other countries. Global warming, sale of armaments, waging wars. The impoverishment of many people because of austerity.
Life seems to be unfair, lots of things don’t work out, but that’s the point of democracy, to try and improve the world for everyone. Being able to Vote is important, you can change things, you can make a difference.
In the 19th and 20th century people fought for the vote. Suffragettes fought for it, working class people fought for it. Why not respect their actions and Vote. It is important. I guess it doesn’t matter which party. It may not be the one I think people should vote for but I respect your right to do it. Thinking about countries around the world where voting is limited to only certain people, I think everyone should be enfranchised.
Does time splinter into different universes? While I sit here waiting for my hubby, who insisted he wanted to walk home in the rain after I dropped him off a couple of hours ago for an appointment, I wonder, where has he got to? Is he OK. Which way is he walking home. Might he get lost? He has problems following directions. But if he knows the way (and he walked back last week) then he should be OK.
But he mooches, he likes looking at things, he doesn’t stride out anymore. He’s not young. I want to go and look for him but the traffic outside is at a standstill. So I’m sitting waiting, worrying, fretting, he’s a grown man. I know he will be OK.. I guess. But time fractures, things happen….
Ten minutes later.. He’s back!
Black cat,
staring eyes
Making spells
Flying high.
Chase the moon,
Race the sky.
Jumping down
To the street.
Chasing mice,
Nice to eat?
Having fun,
Being quick
Oh so neat.
Cat familiar,
Friend of mine.
Making magic
Oh so fine…
The sea is rising
The rain comes in mountains now.
Falling so fast its like a bomb.
Wet feet
Now wet knees,
Up to my thighs…
We walked once from Robin Hoods Bay
To Boggle Hole.
On the North East Coast
Of Yorkshire.
The sea came in
Along the rocks.
It was faster than us.
He was up to his chest,
I was up to my neck
When we waded out
Of the North Sea.
That was twenty years ago.
Now you only have to look at a cloud
And you are covered, soaked, flooded.
Where will it end?
Up a creek without a paddle?
Because I put the post about my art on Facebook the editor of our local paper has contacted me. That was unexpected.
He’s possibly going to write a feature about the paintings. Now is not the time to get nervous (which I sometimes do).
Fingers crossed I can remember what was the meaning behind all the paintings, it’s a long time ago! If they do an article I will let you know.
I’m channelling Christmas and painting little canvases as tree decorations. They need more layers and the colours sorting out….. They will have green ribbons on them so they can hang off a Christmas tree. Backs to be painted black to blend into the shadows…
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