Trying to work at art…

At the Owen Project

There is a new community project nearby and I went up yesterday to have a chat and try and feel a bit more engaged with people. Various things are happening including knitting and crochet, crafts, painting, and writing. It got me out of the house and helped save money on heating. While I was there I did a sketch of a couple of the attendees.

They called me their resident artist which I thought was rather sweet, although there are lots of other people creating artwork there, so it’d not really an accolade I should accept. But it is giving me the opportunity to maintain my skills. I don’t shake as much when I concentrate.

Today was different, I went to my group meeting for my mental health, it’s another craft group, but after I’d had a bit of breakfast I felt really icky, I ended up coming home early, mostly feeling overwhelmed and tired now. But I must try and continue with art, it’s really the only thing that keeps me going.

Writing group

I joined a small writing group today. There will be writing prompts which I might post here. Like a pile of off cuts on a table, I think I need to put the bits of paper together to create a coherent image. It is like seeing a Rorschach test and being able to tell a narrative based on those ink blots. I might try and see what else I can do with this? I can see faces and a bird and animals in this image. Pareidolia again.

Cartridges

The obligatory post on Facebook was asking if you knew what these were to prove you were a child of the 90’s. Why? I knew what these were before the 90’s!

Most people answered these were from fountain pens, but I disagreed, these were from cartridge pens.

A real fountain pen was one with a bulb in it that you squeezed to suck the ink up, or a lever on the side that squashed the inner bulb flat and when it was released pulled the ink in. I always used quink ink.

The cartridges were from cartridge pens, you just unscrewed the back half of the pen and swapped them out when they were empty… The only risk was if the cartridge leaked, the top end of the pen had a bit of metal that pierced the cartridge to allow the ink into the pen and nib. Sometimes you would end up with a pocket or pencil case full of ink if they leaked.

Mid afternoon

What’s your favorite time of day?

I can’t post a picture because my WiFi is not working. But I can describe mid afternoon. On a sunny day, a gentle breeze. A patchwork of blue sky and fluffy white clouds. There may be a scent of rain after a passing shower. Ideally I would be looking out over a valley with a small stone built village at the bottom next to a stream. In my memory I can see large oak trees, ash trees, beech and weeping willows. There are blue or purple hills in the distance.

Birds are singing. Robins, blackbirds, skylarks. Looking for food for their broods of fledglings. Sounds of running water from the stream and ducks quacking as they glide across the local pond.

The UK can be overwhelmingly green in the spring and summer. Autumn isn’t always as colourful as fall in America. But what it lacks in reds and oranges is made up for with fruit ripening on blackberry bushes, raspberries and the mushrooms snf other fungi in the hedgerows. And I love a quiet winters afternoon with white snow.

The hedgehogs will be sleeping on autumn days, waiting for cool and misty evenings. Life can be calm in these dreamy days. It’s not all wonderful but I’m thinking of an idyllic day.

Seasons

A writing prompt from Esther Chilton.

My favourite season is Spring. The anticipation of warm weather to come. Flowers and buds emerging after a bleak winter, and birds, bees and animals taking advantage of the newly green fields.

But to be honest this year the, spring seems to have started, but winter is still here in July. Low temperatures, low pressure and 80% of July’s rainfall in just 10 days in the UK has made for a dismal start to the summer. The jet stream is south of us scooping down cold and wet air from the Arctic.

Meanwhile Southern Europe is baking in record breaking heat with numerous deaths.

Hopefully it will turn into a mild autumn. Unless the weather morphs into a more wintery scene…..

Myths and Legends

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

I loved the school book about Greek Myths and Legends we had to read. I remember short stories about Pandoras Box, when the box was opened all that was left was Hope. Then there was a story about Jason and the Argonauts, and his quest for the Golden Fleece. I think there was a tale of the Titan Atlas being sentenced by the god Zeus to support the heavens on his shoulders.

Each story had lovely illustrations, and the inside covers of the book were equally well decorated.

Getting the attention of children with artwork aswell as words is a way of catching them at an early age. I know a lot of books are now online, but I think real books are wonderful treasures.

In memory

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.

Esther’s prompt, Nostalgia

I really like writing to prompts.

Here’s a short response to the word Nostalgia:

Nostalgia hits me all the time now. I long to be back in simpler times. Old TV shows from the 60s and 70s remind me of past times when I thought adventure was real. Hero’s could do anything. Irony did not exist and no one suffered real hardship. Nostalgia is sneaky, comfy, mostly happy. If I could make life better I would create nostalgic bliss. 

Esther’s challenge: New beginnings

A new world?

Esther Chiltons blog has writing challenges every week, I’ve started trying to do some. New beginnings was an interesting one.

This is what I wrote :

New beginning?
I hope so.
My life has changed in so many ways. I’m having to reassess what I can do, can afford, can maintain.
New beginnings means the garden is starting to flower, I hope to get outside and maybe paint if I feel up to it. I need help to keep the garden tidy.
My main wish is that my health improves and I can have some real new beginnings….

Esther does other challenges, like on Mondays we try and write a limerick with a certain word in it, or on Thursdays a set of words and a limited number of words to use. It’s fun. Why not look her blog up?

Letter to myself

Dear Me

It’s been a horrible few days. I’m worried and scared, but I must try and cope. Remember to breathe, don’t hide away. Memories of other situations make me want to do this.

I remember my mom when my dad died, she sat on the settee in the darkness for three days, in the end I wrote her a letter and asked her to look after us, her children. I think that finally got through to her. She seemed to respond.

Writing this is just a way of talking to myself, but to share with others, maybe it is something to think about for other people?