New paintings and regular art updates.
For some reason our cast iron cat doorstop has ended up on the kitchen window ledge instead of on the floor. He peers out from behind the Christmas cactii. My kitchen is full of things that I don’t really need, like plants and ornaments. I need to get rid of some of them… Anyway I took the photo of him a few nights ago while I was downstairs getting a cool drink. The pink candle is one my hubby wants to float on the pond, although I don’t think it will do the goldfish any good..
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…..
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
