I keep finding old photos of paintings that I have done over the years. This was called tree spirits and went to a lovely couple who had fallen in love with it. Those that follow my blog know I love pattern and shapes. My favourite shape is the spiral. I don’t know why… But curving round and twisting, leaves shading the faces. I want to do more like this.
When you are in a webinar and you are listening to people talking, why not sketch them? I don’t get much chance of doing portraits of people at the moment and so I take them when I can. Our webinars require students to have their mic and camera switched off, and only switching the mic on if you want to say something. When you are in a group of up to forty students I guess it makes it easier to hear what’s being said and it’s less distracting. I make notes, but I can’t help wanting to draw…
So if you are ever in a zoom meeting with me… Beware I might do a quick sketch of you too!
The door stands in the way. But I can hear people outside, running along the pavement, downhill, then up. A couple of car doors slam. An engine starts, quietly. I want to look out, but the door is firmly locked. It’s late. I could look out of the window, but that means parting the curtains, giving the game away.
A little later…. All is calm again, the mad thunder of feet has receded, I heard my bin lid thud down, but I’m not going to look. Possibly an old beer can? It’s happened before.
I don’t really like living with my front door on the pavement. I wish we had a front garden. There is a garden at the side of our house,iit’s ours, full of trees and bushes. Local people dump beer cans and fag packets in our hedge. Life, and people, have been quieter lately. But if I was put on a desert island I would be OK.
I spoke too soon, cars (with people in) crashing down their gears, rushing to get up the hill. Sometimes they seem to race each other.
If, and when the lockdown ends, I will have to get used to people again.
I think about the people who are on their own at the moment. There are a lot of them out there, either divorced or widowed, or never met anyone they want to share their lives with. My hubby and I might get on each others nerves at the moment, but at least we can talk to each other. Self isolating for us means looking after one another.
Being solo must be so much harder. Humans are social animals. If people don’t have the Internet, or friends to phone things must be so much more difficult.
Maybe in a few weeks all this will be over. But will the population be decimated. And what about countries where people cannot isolate, places where refugees are gathered together without proper sanitation or clean water supplies. The world is a huge place, maybe going through huge change. If we don’t sort ourselves out, become kinder, what will happen?
One thing I miss at the moment is going out to the theatre. It wasn’t something we did frequently but I did enjoy going three or four times a year.
We have a few local theatres. The Regent theatre, the New Victoria theatre, and the Rep. We went out to see Warhorse last year, that was fantastic. I’ve also seen waiting for Godot years ago, the Scottish play and others by Shakespeare.
Over the years we have seen many more productions, including musical evenings, and also live casts of plays at the local cinema. The thought now of sitting with hundreds of people feels frightening. How the world can change…..
Standing under the sculpture of two people holding up pottery was not her idea of fun. But they had agreed to meet there. She didnt think he would turn up. They had met on line, but never spoken. Would he turn up with a rose in his lapel, or a funny hat? Was he tall or short, fat or thin? He wouldn’t send a photo, didn’t like selfies, and would only communicate by email or text. He’d told her he was shy! Shy? In this day and age, where everyone did so much to talk and share, and talk about themselves.
Ten minutes later, she was still alone, he was late, no one had come near her. People were popping in and out of the museum. Couples, singles, adults and children….
A man approached, middle height, middle aged, dark hair, glasses, reddish beard. ‘ Do you know where the bus station is?’ he asked.
I’ll give it five more minutes she thought. It had started to drizzle, and the wind was washing over her, freezing her eyes, her ears, her hands.
No one came, the sun was setting, a young woman with a baby in a buggy walked past, and held out her hand to a young man walking along the pavement. The street lights started to twinkle and she decided she had had enough of this torture. She stood up and started to walk away. Someone rushed up behind her and tapped her shoulder. ‘Hi, I’m Mike’ he said…..