New paintings and regular art updates.
I saw a prompt on Esther Chilton’s page “dreams” and decided to write a poem about loss to respond to it. Here it is.
In my dreams you are still here
I grasp your hand to pull you near
To say “goodnight” to you my sweet,
As my heart trips and skips a beat,
To have you here, to hear you speak,
That is the dream I really seek.
I know that you have gone away,
Will never see another day.
I’m in a dream now, holding on
To memories of you though you’ve gone.
A photo of me taken by a friend when I was trying to sell small paintings at craft fairs. I’m afraid covid really knocked the head on this, I’ve only done a few small craft fairs since this and basically just one or two in 2023. The cost of hiring a stall usually cancelled out any sales money and also the cost of buying art supplies made the idea non viable. But I tried and I made some nice friends.
Going through my art trying to find images with sunlight in them. I came across the this semi abstract portrait of a Steam Punk. It’s from a photo I took at The Etruria Canal Festival either last year or the year before?
I like experimenting, especially since my arm shakes, so I can integrate that into the paintings, or try something even more different if I want?
I was out with my friend and wanted to take some photos of the birds in an aviary, but my phone camera was playing up. My friend sent me a few of her pictures. I like this photo she took of a pheasant? Mostly I like the composition, it reminds me of a Mondrian painting and although the bird is not square or oblong shaped the red black and white add a pop of interest in response to the more muted colours in the background.
Taken when we were having tea and scones at the Brampton museum and art gallery in Newcastle under Lyme a couple of weeks ago.
An innocent day, a year ago. We were out at a Rode Hall, walking through the bluebell woods. No sign of the troubles ahead.
I wish I could hold the hand I held for 43 years, so firm and strong, walking into sunlight with you. Taking each step carefully along the path. You leading the way, supporting me.
I heard the birds singing and felt a gentle breeze that shook the bluebell heads. Nodding in the dappled shade. All ready for some fairy parade when we were gone.
I drew this later from a photo, I wish I could go back in time.
Confused, muddled, incoherent. Gobbledegook.
Like double-dutch it’s a word that tries to describe the kind of word salad some people talk rather than a measured and clear explanation.
If you have ever seen “Sir Humphrey”, the political private secretary in “Yes, Minister”, and “Yes, Prime Minister”, the BBC series from the 1980s and 90s, you will know he would used gobbledegook or flimflam (another lovely word) to blag his way through telling the Minister important information without telling him clearly. It’s in this case a method of obfuscation, using a long tangle of incomprehensible words that is sneaky and makes the story he is trying to tell virtually impossible to understand.
It’s an informal noun and according to Google it is defined as :
language that is meaningless or is made unintelligible by excessive use of technical terms.
“reams of financial gobbledygook”
I hope you enjoyed this word!
Do you vote in political elections?
I’ve voted in every election I could. The first time I voted following my families choice, I was young and I hadn’t really thought through my voting intentions, we had always voted one way so I followed suit.
Then I left home, my situation changed. Many conversations followed and I realised I no longer agreed with my family. Much to their surprise I changed allegance. Why? The reality of life was not as I’d imagined it as a child.
I think the important thing to do when voting is to really consider what’s on offer, not just to you, but to your neighbours and friends. Bad policies should not be selected. That means any party that is not bothered about the needs of the population should be discarded. Perhaps we could have more accurate measurement of whether parties have kept their promises?
As a woman I’m proud to vote. I remember all the women 100 years ago who fought for women’s suffrage. If you can find the song on the Internet have a listen to the song “Nana was a Sufferagette”. I think it gives a good idea of how I feel.
I enjoyed going out to see the Boat Band at the Beehive tonight. It’s been over 6 months since I have been out to see them. The pub was quite full with jolly people and it was lovely to feel that mood wash over me. It felt very strange being on my own though. And odd not having my hubby to talk to. But I’m glad I went, I even tried singing a couple of songs.
It had been another long day and I had a hospital appointment in the afternoon, I’m so grateful that my friend came with me to keep me company although she had to wait for an hour and a half while I had a scan. I couldn’t stop shaking so I hope they managed to get good pictures.
Now I’m shattered, I need some food but I might just have a sandwich and go to bed. But I’m really glad I went out. Life has to have some good times.
I’m going to try and get to an art project about Molly Leigh, the witch of Burslem. I want to try and do a painting of her, but I only had a bit of time today, and because I’m trying to get back into painting again I decided to paint an owl. I did it because it’s a magical kind of bird, the way they can fly silent as a whisper to catch their prey. It’s a small acrylic on canvas. I’m not sure of the species as I based this on a precious owl painting I did a few years ago.
Crying is cathartic
Tears relieve stress
But do they ever stop?
Many more to come
Will they ever end
When will they be done?
Quiet nights are worst
But even in the day
Tears will still fall
Thinking, all alone
In my little home
Sadness overwhelms.
Looking forward’s hard
Past this veil of tears
Into future years…
Mallaband-Brown