Eyes wide

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At the opticians. Your head is too big for your frames. What? They no longer make frames in your size. So all the frames in my size you have on display are no longer available?  Yes, your size is 71 or above so the centre of your lenses will line up with your pupils. But average heads are 70 or less. So we haven’t got any in your size. Why? Because of Brexit! They are only manufacturing average sizes at the moment!

I’m not happy. Got to go back in a week to see if they can source some frames.

Opening night!

Thank you to everyone who came to the exhibition. I think people enjoyed it. I will be putting up more photos if I get some. These are quick snaps but I’ve included all the paintings. The people at Centre Space gallery, Darren and Sarah, could not be more helpful. If there was a trip advisor for galleries (maybe there is) I would recommend them.

If you would like to see it it’s on till Sunday from 10.30am to 4.00pm at the Centre Space gallery, at Spode Site, Eleanora street, Stoke, Stoke-on-Trent, ST4 1QQ.

Why do I write and what am I writing?

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It struck me that my writing is as mixed up as my painting and art. I’m interested in poetry and short stories, documenting life and writing about esoteric stuff like why the earth isn’t flat.

I sometimes ramble on around similar subjects, then get bored and throw something else into the mix – like writing about bread making, or my cats and garden.

I have a lot of thoughts flowing round in my head. I didn’t ask for them to be there.  I’m irritated when Sci-fi shows have sound in the vacuum of space, or someone tells a lie about something that is clearly not true.

I was talking to my hubby about this earlier. I do not want to be different, I was going to write “normal” but perhaps I am. Maybe writers are those people that stick to a specific narrative or genre? Or maybe not. I know I don’t do much research about things, most of my writing is imagined or recollected from books and TV programmes.

I started out thinking it would be purely an art blog, a way of selling my paintings, but it’s morphed. I write mors here than anywhere else and I hope it doesn’t get snatched away. I never check how much content I’m creating. It just flows….. And I was once asked why I don’t have adverts… I don’t like them! I keep seeing photos of lemons, or some green gunk that clears up skin problems…. No, sorry, I’m not happy to sell it….

I’ve been up 20 hours and I ache too much to sleep

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Well, that was a day  I stood in a local election. I didn’t win.

I walked around about half the ward today. I talked to lots of people. I had some good responses but I was not well known so I understand why I didn’t get the vote. I will have to try and help more there perhaps. At the moment my knees and ankles are aching so much I can’t move. I wanted to help. I hope the person they selected is able to help.

Must sleep

Wasp

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Wasp! I’ve stood on one and been stung before now. I don’t like them but I can live with them, except when they built a nest in between some bricks and started coming out into the kitchen when they emerged. I got up one morning and there were a few wasps flying round the kitchen. Two many to catch and I didn’t have any fly spray so I had to hoover them up in the vacuum cleaner. I felt guilty about it. Then over the next week we had more every morning. I had to book pest control in the end.

Now years later I just had a huge wasp fly into the living room. It must have come in from the garden when my partner went outside.

The cats ears pricked up and he started looking up and jumping onto cupboards to try and catch it. I don’t think chewed wasp would be good for him. Then it flew onto the window behind a net curtain.

I shouted my partner as I could not reach. A plastic tub and a magazine were used to trap it, now its free flying around outside.

Phew! Strange how insects can be so upsetting. Wasps are useful for eating pests and pollenation. And thankfully I didn’t have to vacuum it up!

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Dawn chorus

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I came downstairs about an hour ago and the sweet, loud, melodious song of birds was filling the air. At this time of year in the spring it seems louder and more beautiful than ever. Fizzing through the air like ripe electricity. A great pleasure to listen to.

Then cutting through it the insistent alarm call, not of a blackbird, but a ruddy car alarm! The bird song quietened for about five minutes, a car engine started up in the street, and traffic noise commenced. But soaring high above it the melodies of a Blackbird and its mate have resumed. Liquid notes rising and falling in complicated trills… And that ruddy car alarm again!