Tag: Time

Blue moon and super moon

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Moon doodle

It’s not blue and it’s not really super!

There is a super blue moon tonight and tomorrow night. All that means is that there are 13 full moons in this twelve month period and this August there are two in the same month. This is the second and ‘blue’ moon. The moon also happens to be at its closest approach to the Earth, a few thousand miles closer, so it appears slightly bigger in the sky. The moons orbit is elliptical, so it has two centres of gravity and so sometimes it appears closer and sometimes further away. The next super blue moon will be in 2037. There are lots of articles on the Internet about it today.

Bored

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My brain is numb

I want to do things

Stuck inside

Tied down by boredom

And an injured leg

The world turns

And changes

First leaves

Yellow on the Cherry tree

They will wilt and fall.

Bored at home

Will I be out

Before the leaves are all gone?

Swallows will fly

Night returns as days shorten.

Looking out of a window

Limited views

Meanwhile

Keep my legs raised

To reduce the swelling.

Bored

I don’t know

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Where did your name come from?

If I had a name like Archer or Baker I could assume my name had come down from the work my family used to do. Archer could be a soldier or hunter, Baker a cook or a bread maker.

But where does Mallaband or Brown come from? One is a strange name the other ubiquitous. Mallaband was a name that got me bullied at school. If I had a ‘normal’ name I think I would have been overlooked.

When I was little I thought Mallaband could be broken down into Mal la band. I thought it might mean ‘the bad band’. I decided we must have been part of a group of French bandits! What an odd thought.

Later I heard we might have a Yorkshire connections. But this was only a suggestion and there was no indication where it came from. I could join a genealogy website. But I don’t know if it would be something I would be interested in.

Caring for people

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What motivates you?

I think I’ve always cared about people. My mom used to say I had a soft heart. I like films that you would class as weepies, ones that bought a tear to your eyes. I’d sit on the sofa with my mom and have a good cry.

So I’m motivated to try and support people. I wonder if that is just a perpetuation of a female role model ? It certainly was pushed when we had our careers guidance. It was suggested I went into nursing, I which didn’t set well. Why not a doctor? Anyway by then my motivation had changed. I wanted to be an artist, and for forty years I’ve pursued that role. Not to be famous. Not to make money, but to create art (and care about people).

I am not a writer

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What do you enjoy most about writing?

I write this blog, and I’ve written college work recently. I tried writing a children’s book for my final major project and took it to a small publishers a few weeks ago but haven’t heard back from them yet. The story is a little adventure, but described in limerick form (I do a regular limerick challenge on WordPress that gave me the idea.)

Apart from that I can describe myself as anything other than a bit of a blogger. And I don’t write anything of any length.

So what do I get? I like the creativity it allows me, this is a bit like a diary and people have kindly read what I write. I guess I’m quite middle of the road, but a bit eccentric? What I write is often what I’m hearing in my head as I write. Is that normal? Anyway it’s almost another week. Take care.

Podding peas

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Have you ever podded or shelled peas?

When I was little we used to sit in the back yard and shell the peas dad had grown.

The garden was on the other side of a path that ran behind the houses. The yards were covered in slate blue coloured bricks. I would sit with my mom and siblings, she would hand out peas in the pod. I remember you pressed along one side of the peapod, the seam of it split and a row of beautiful peas sat along the other edge, then you hooked them out with your thumb. Sweet green peas falling into the bowl. Many peas didn’t go into the bowl, but into my mouth instead. It was a pleasure to eat them. They never tasted sweeter and fresher.

Other things that went on in the yard? I remember it snowing in February. Mom collected fresh snow off the yard wall. She used the water to make her pancake mix for Shrove Tuesday. I think she thought they tasted better than using “corporation pop” ( tap water). Probably because of chorine in the tap water?

Memories, they spring to mind without volition.

What?

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What is a word you feel that too many people use?

I don’t see what or which word I can object to? There are many words in this world that people use, sometimes a lot of people use the same word, but how can I object? Isn’t that censorship? I hate prejudice, and would not use such words, but sometimes they have to be spoken to explain their use, their critical importance in a conversation.

It’s hard to explain what I mean. But if someone were to use a derogatory comment then they might need to be prosecuted for it’s use. How can you take action if the word is not repeated? It’s a conundrum. The word might be ambiguous on the one hand or too direct on the other, in which case it might not be allowed.

Some words thankfully go out of fashion. I’m glad they have, but it doesn’t mean that there’s others that are also lost shouldn’t be saved.

I guess I’m on the fence for this prompt. Enough said?

Comparison

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I play with these drawings to create a double image of two faces. One side has more texture than the other using different apps.

One side is sharper than the other, the left hand side has been processed through photodirector to add texture.

Does it matter what I did or why? Isn’t it more important to create something? I explain what I’ve done, but is there any significance? I see work in exhibitions wherr the piece of art will have a longwinded explanation of what the Art is about. I like to play and explore, I might not have a specific intention, but I hope what I do has some integrity….