New paintings and regular art updates.
It’s hot, I’m tired, I can’t sleep. I got a bit burned in the sun yesterday while I was drawing at Westport lake. These are just quick biro sketches on a Crawford and Black A4 130gsm cartridge paper sketch pad. Excuse the setting I don’t have many bright areas in the house that are shadow free so I ended up propping them up on the gas oven. Ah the joys of photography at 3am! Night all!
She cries quietly in a corner, there is no violence, no words to cut, no cruelty to endure. But she can see the changes. She can see the hesitation in his words, the slight tremor in his voice. Age is wearing him away more quickly than they had hoped. She was almost a decade younger than him. Would she retire and be able to spend quality time with him, or would it be too late to have a life. One where they could be together like they once were, reading each others thoughts, finishing each others words.
It’s been a few years, but each day he has drifted into his own mind and out of reality. Falling deeper into despair and dragging her down too.
That’s why she cried.
Oh books, you tomes of wisdom,
your cracked pages full of age,
paperback and hardback,
album and autobiography.
You change my mind, change my thoughts,
help me to learn, help me to see.
Books hold knowledge, and deceit.
Not all knowledge is truth,
Sometimes it’s misinformed,
or misinformation.
But I’d rather have a book than a computer……
Books are analogue.
I finally got into Cherished Chimneys in Longport, Stoke-on-Trent. Its an Aladdins cave of Chimney pots. Small, short, long, tall, fluted, straight, curved. Dark, light, terracotta, superb ceramics. The shop restores chimneys for buildings where the original pots have been lost, but also sells to the public who use them as ornamental sculptures and flower pots in their gardens. It’s worth taking a look if you are ever passing.
The choir were there but I decided not to include us in the photo. We have two more meetings of the choir before we break up for August then return in September.
Loud Mouth Women is an a capella choir, who meet at Newcastle Baptist church in Stafford Avenue, Clayton, Newcastle-under-Lyme on a Tuesday evening. It is made up of female singers who don’t audition or have to read music and is open to anyone woman who wants to sing. It improves confidence, allows you to socialise, and gives you the opportunity to learn a new skill of singing in different languages. To do this we learn by repetition, learning songs phonetically.
Tonight we learned an arab song about friendship, sang an old favourite “moonriver” and had the pleasure of being taught by Caroline who was deputising for our normal musical director Kate.
We have also recently had the enormous pleasure of going to a Yoga group run by one of the Louds, which is run an hour and a half before we sing. I was so relaxed tonight I almost fell asleep in the choir.
A roar of colour, even in late evening light. The triffids have arrived, my hanging baskets are blooming lovely and are growing blousier by the day.
It happens every year, they are not fully grown when I get them, but add water and they burst into life. Plants that I didn’t know were in them are staring to flower, fushias and long trailing pelargoniums. A profusion of colour. I’m probably going to bore you with more of this until the last lobelia dies in the frosts of December! Some of them will survive until spring as they did last year.
X
Purr, I like you
Purr let me sharpen my claws…
On your leg..
Purr, gimme food!
Purr, gimme water!
Purr, clean my litter tray,
Purr, let me sit here
It’s my computer now…
Purr, that’s a book?
Let me read it.
Purr that’s your food
Gimme some now!
Purr, I’m tired
Let me sleep on you.
Not your lap,
Your face!
Purr I love you
Purr yes I do….
This time if year my hubby is glued to the TV for the tour. He watches it every year. For the last few years British riders have won but there is nothing to say it will happen this year. Chris Froome is out with a broken thigh and Geraint Thomas had a fall just before it started but he’s in the race.
The tour travels around France but often starts in different countries. They travel for three weeks. Climbing mountains and doing sprints, time trials and trying to win various jerseys. There is a polkadot Jersey for the best mountain rider, a green jersey for the fastest sprinter and the yellow Jersey is for the best overall rider and ultimately the winner. Who ever it is, as long as he is in the lead when the tour reaches Paris he is the winner. It is exciting to watch.
I made these glass pieces in my friend Angela’s glass workshop. Now I’ve bought them to another friend who is going to wire weave round them and turn them into necklaces. Glass is fascinating. I now want to find out about stained glass and glass blowing. I’m only dabbling my toes into this craft but it’s great. I’m going to maybe get an enamel kiln but that’s another story…..
This is how I avoid hayfever in our garden. By completely eliminating a lawn. Luckily I don’t have an allergy to tree pollen. Over the years the trees have grown big, but I like having my own personal forest glade with bird life and small mammals like hedgehogs and of course cats who patrol the garden and mug my hubby for fresh cat food. At least that stops them getting interested in the birds…. Tweet tweet tweet pounce! I’m sitting here with a busy road just yards away and although I can hear the traffic it’s not as loud. I can hear the tsee tsee tsee of birds singing. The flap of wings as they look for bird food in the garden. The rustle of vegetation. At the moment I’m sitting on a bench in warm dappled sunlight. I guess this type of garden is good for capturing CO2 and for feeding the birds. We got very few cherries this year but the blackbirds are gobbling the ripe ones up high in the tree. In previous years we’ve made the effort to climb step ladders to get them but this year we are being generous!
A few years ago we rented the garden from the previous owner of our house. She then decided she wanted to build on it, and while she sought planning permission we were not allowed on it except for a four foot strip of path alongside the house, she even painted a line along the length of the path to show where we could go! Luckily she was refused planning permission so after three years we bought the garden off her. But the damage was done. Everything had grown enormously and out if control. We have struggled to get it back to some sort of tidiness.
I’ve been very busy with the election and the mystery play over the last two months so I haven’t been able to sit and chill. But today is dry and sunny, came and ate breakfast out here and since my WiFi seems to reach this far I thought I would write about the garden. No sneezing, my eyes are not running and I don’t feel like I can’t breathe, bliss.
Later I will do a bit of pruning. There are a few stray Ash and Sycamore saplings that need removing. Also I want to try and let a bit more light through.
Gardening, never-ending……
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