Fireworks going off already!

It’s not even eleven thirty and fireworks are going off. I think people can’t wait for the end of the year. I don’t have any pictures of them so here’s a drawing I did a while ago of something vaguely like a firework.

I’ve tried to think of interesting things to post over the year, some poetry, some strange or silly stories, and mainly my Art. This year I haven’t been as inspired, and things have been distracting me. For instance the college course on illustration I’m doing. I hope you have enjoyed my blog, and that I can keep it going in the new year. Keep safe. Stay healthy!

Acrosstick

Esther Chilton, who has a blog at WordPress, challenges us to write things to prompts. On a Monday it’s a limerick using a particular word (this week it was ‘Santa’ ) and then on a Thursday its telling a story in five words. The prompt today was ‘presents’.

I wrote these eight lines and included an eight letter word using the first letter of each line, just for fun.

X

Merry Christmas

horse on its side

OK, I dont know why I like this

but this horse

on its side

could be stone

waiting to be carved

hewn out of rock

pumice from a volcano

found in an ancient town

or modern art

tipped sideways to shock

graffitti painted in white

on a famous building?

or slapped onto shutters

before they open

to the next day’s sun.

Singing on Zoom

Just finished a zoom singing session with some friends from a choir. The choir leader Sings and we are all muted, so all you can here is her and her partner and yourself. If you unmute the timing of the music is all put. So that people’s voices come in at different times. It’s funny but not productive.

One thing we have been doing is sharing pictures of model boats and even a painting of a boat because we are being led by a group called the Boat Band, talented musicians. Look them up on YouTube?

Apologies if I should not have used the words. I will take this post down if I have to.

Repetition

When you live with someone with bad hearing loss, be prepared to repeat yourself. Sometimes endlessly.

He has hearing aids, but he doesn’t always remember to put them in, and even when he does he can’t always hear me. I repeat things, but because he has lost the higher frequency sounds my voice can be too high to hear. We end up in a guessing game. I say a word say ‘splurge’ for instance, and he will say ‘Forge, force?’ I repeat, then ‘sort? Sports?’ repeat again, trying to pitch my voice lower…. ‘splits?’ finally he gets it. The energy it takes to communicate is hard work. Tiring. Irritating. But ultimately we communicate.

Fushias

Fushias in the garden, like little ballerinas, skirts whirling, pale pink over dark pink petals. Stamens hanging down, like little legs pirouetting in a dance on thin air…

The colours thrill. Pinks, browns greens and purples. The background blurs into fluid texture, waiting for your quiet death as cool ice freezes you in withered majesty.