New paintings and regular art updates.
#bandofsketchers prompt travel, I wish I’d travelled to Hadrians wall and had seen the iconic “Sycamore Gap” before some idiots chopped the wonderful tree down. It was around 200 years old and healthy. Drawn in felt pens, imagining it’s autumn colours.
Most leaves have changed colour
It’s November and they are hanging on
But a storm is coming..
Leaves will spin and twist…
Then fall like snowflakes to the ground.
To be blown along by the wind
Forming drifts
Where hedgehogs can hide,
Damp leaf mold will rot and spread
Nutrients back into the soil.
Leaves anew, next year, to feed..
So the cycle of life turns…
Blue flowers, ridged flower buds and bright green leaves with a jagged edge. Its a biggish bush /plants but in a raised bed, so I’m not sure of its maximum height.
Does anyone recognise this, I’d like to find out. I might take a cutting. The plants are covered in flowers and seed heads so I might try and gather seeds too. It’s in full sunlight/partial shade. Any ideas?
What does it mean to be a kid at heart?
Freedom to play, freedom to think. Work with others, like this collaboration mural. The brain is plastic and it changes massively through childhood. Keeping hold of that willingness to learn and play helps solve problems, makes you think.
Memories of paddling in a river, or climbing a tree, having freedom to go to college and learn. I also think wit, and humour is important. Playing with words, striking up conversations with people. Enjoying puns and jokes, still being able to giggle. Fun is freedom to keep hold of your childhood.
After we were robbed a few days ago, some bits of trains and tracks turned up in the alleyway under the vegetation.
But so much has gone. Thirty years or more of memories. Trains, trucks, carriages, different sizes and shapes.
But most precious was a hand built bike my hubby bought in the 1970’s. The frame came first, 531 double butted steel. Then he had the wheels, chainset, pedals, handlebars added to it. That bike went to the south west, the lake district, all over Lancashire, and toured England. That has my hubbys heart infused into it.
There is a book called The Third Policeman, by Myles Magopaline? A pseudonym of Flann O’brien. It’s about how when someone owns a bike for a long time their molecules swap between person and bike so they take on characteristics of each other.
It is deeply saddening to lose your memories and belongings. He has lost his precious bicycle.
Profile doodle. I drew a pattern then erased the shape of a face. I could try and make this different by changing it from positive to negative. I’ve started drawing a bit more and began a painting of a galleon at sunset yesterday. It’s not finished but I will post it later.
You have three magic genie wishes, what are you asking for?
I’m going for two of the traditional Miss World answers from the past…
1. World peace, ie, an end to fighting and the horrors of war, and crime. No doubt someone will start an argument about the Peace five minutes after it finally happens.
2. An end to famine, with sufficient food for everyone, always.
With these two wishes granted I would hope humanity could get it’s act together and sort out pestilence and the other existential crises.
3. The third would be sorting out global warming. Without this, the other two wishes would be wasted. To have the luxury of knowing the world is not going to fry would be wonderful.
We always want wishes. But why not solve things ourselves instead? Take responsibility instead of taking resources. Consider others. Only use the power you need. Only travel where you need to. Give up some air miles. Share a car, share a thought.
Education is key. A broad spectrum of knowledge must help. I’m convinced that uneducated people are more likely to be repressed or oppressed by their employers or governments.
Life is hard, but rather than looking for an external answer we need to look to ourselves.
I love clouds so when I saw these on Saturday I had to take a photo. I loved that they were lined up diagonally. I think they are cumulusclouds. I ought to check the cloud appreciation society page on Facebook but I thought I’d post it here first. November is near and grey skies abound, so it was good to see a little daylight for a change.
Artrage oils drawing from 7 years ago. Popped up on my Facebook memories. I love the way you could use metallic brushes to create this. It’s sort of mid way between a butterfly and a pigeon. It’s a good memory.
Describe a family member.
So how to do describe a family member? The wrinkles on their face? Their hair colour, skin colour, other physical attributes? Height, weight, hairstyle, glasses or not.
Faces are square, firm jawed, soft skinned, made up, lipstick, mascara. Eye colour, hair colour.
Musical, artistic, crafty, cook, reader, tidy scruffy or normal?
Add a few of these as a combination…
Arthritic, short, hairy, smiling, vegetarian, rock chick?
Or balding, bearded, blue eyed, tall, scruffy, and a mechanic.
A person may describe me in one way, someone else in another. Without facial recognition would you recognise me from my description? How many other people fit the discription?
My family members will remain hidden from the Internet. Because I don’t want to share. I think that’s fair enough.
Mallaband-Brown