Thursday 28 February 2013
Lab puppies for sale
Just been to look at my friend's litter of 7 yellow/red labrador puppies which are now 5 weeks old. They are just about the lovliest, most even sized and well grown pups I have ever seen. There are 2 left. If you are thinking about a pup go and have a look at them. (I can give you contact details) Their mum and dad are KC registered and both are excellent gun dogs. Very difficult to leave without one, but we already have 3 dogs. No room for more.....
Monday 25 February 2013
fandangoes everywhere
Two tinies stamped with my hand cut printing stamp, direct onto the wall of the studio, and with a stretcher frame surrounding. Funny little things ain't they!
The giant fandango, hanging from satin ribbons on the ceiling of my college studio, and awaiting further adornment through the attachment of 100 small, stuffed foofoos.
Below the red fleece fandango, is a 3ft shard of glass (actually a kind of perspex) which will be surrounded by the tiny, hanging foofoos. I know. It's complicated.
After a tough couple of weeks when I would cheerfully have chucked in the paintbrush (or in this case the sewing needles) I feel a bit more motivated. Perhaps because I have been painting at home. I may (or may not) trying painting at college too - I'm thinking about it.
A piece of work has been selected for a small exhibition at The University Centre, Grimsby, you are all welcome to the opening night - here's the invite:
Please come if you can. I shall be there, and would be delighted to show you where I waste fritter away my time three days a week! There will be wine. And possibly a slightly stale canape....
A week of contrasts has passed. Two funerals being the lowest parts, and dinner with the big boy the highest. Dinner with the ladies at the end of this week is something I am looking forward to, obviously calorie free, as all calories completely burned up by flapping jaws and overworked voices.
The poodle has had a haircut, the black spaniel has still not come into season, and the yellow horse had new shoes today, despite only going out in his old ones once. He is more profligate than Berlusconi, but better looking.
The farmer (who is still being mentally tortured, daily, by marauding pigeons) is tasked with finding and booking a holiday for us. This is proving difficult for him as it involves:- making a decision, coupled with spending unnecessary funds on something totally frivolous. Dearly as I would like to be sure of a destination and reservation I am determined not to be involved in the procedure. I think you can rest assured that nothing much will happen in this regard in the forseeable future. I shall keep encouraging (read nagging) him!
Have chosen a subject for my degree dissertation, which I am now beginning to explore, through the library at college and with some purchases on Amazon. As the subject in question is 'the vulva/vagina in contemporary art' its making for some interesting reading, book requests and purchases. Any literary contributions very welcome.....
until next time readers, XXXX
Monday 18 February 2013
Saturday 16 February 2013
Thursday 14 February 2013
A death or two, a new tenant & other stories....
Its been some time. Who knows where the hours and the days sneak off to? Certainly not me. Nevertheless, and briefly, its been a trying few weeks. Back at Skool now, I am concentrating on female genital mutilation (mostly though not entirely, practiced on young girl children). This has resulted in quite a full sketch/ideas book, and a reluctance to work on any larger pieces. I don't really know why I feel so nervous about jumping into the artistic water this term, but I do. Its vulvas everywhere in my studio, silk, wool, cotton, jersey and felt, all cut sewn and stuffed to resemble pudenda. Not for the faint hearted. I shall, of course, keep you posted on progress.
I heard last week of the death of someone who shared my life very closely for several years. Though we had lost touch, married, had our own families and drifted far, far apart, I was surprised at the shock and grief I felt on learning of his untimely end. He was only 48. He died over a year ago, and I didn't even know. Somehow, that made it worse. I wrote to his brother and his wife which eased me slightly, and I know we cannot keep in contact with everyone we meet on our journey through life. But this one I loved and lived with so he has left a space no-one else can fill. I know. Get over it. I will.
The brown dog is spayed, healed and happy. No more pups from her. We await the black dog's season with great interest. The poodle has a lady booked in for the weekend, and I have given the love-shack a vac. and polish in preparation for his wooing.
Went to see the boys last weekend, as the big boy had a birthday, and the baby boy forgot to take a coat back to University, and has been too busy to fetch one, and too mean to buy another. Therefore, through the snow, ice and rain, he has been very, very, very cold. We dropped off 4 overcoats for him on our way through Leicester, and took the big boy out for a birthday lunch to celebrate his 22nd anniversary. 22. Jeez.
I have just changed my car, two days prior to learning that the baby boy's Masters year will cost a hefty £9000 (no student finance for Masters), plus £6000 living-in at the Royal Agric. College, Cirencester. I may, perhaps, have delayed the car exchange for another year if I had realised the full extent of the cost of a further year at University and can now only shrug in the french manner and say 'c'est la vie'! He is very excited at the prospect of this further year of extremely intense study, so fingers crossed he can achieve the 2:1 he needs to take up the place.
I have a new tenant, after a protracted purchase and renovation of a tiny house in Louth. The neighbours have been somewhat difficult and truculent during the renovation process and it has been quite hard going. Am thinking that if I should ever be in a position to buy another letting property it had better be detached. Very detached. I do understand their fears regarding the prospect of being next door to a 'let' property. Hopefully things have now settled down, they have laid down their hackles, and can get on with their lives in the sure and certain knowledge that the house has not been let to a bunch of drug addicts or turned into a bawdy house.
The farmer is being tortured slowly and not-so-discreetly by a flock of pigeons. He has recruited some assistance in his pigeon clearing task, which involves shotguns and retrievers. He planted 40 acres of rapeseed in the Autumn. All that is left of the infant plants is tufts of skeletal greenery, pecked bare and de-hearted by the ravening hoards of pigeons. The birds roost in The Church trees adjacent to the land. They drop down for supper on their way home in the evenings, and stop for an early and convenient breakfast first thing every morning. They are driving the poor Farmer mad. The Agronomist says he has never seen a year like it for pigeon damage, and ours is some of his worst. Pigeon scaring kites, bangers, and shotguns all only provide a brief respite from the marauding. It looks like the crop will have to be abandoned, and the land seeded with a spring crop when the earth dries out somewhat. Those pigeons have eaten the baby boy's college fees....... Aarrgghhhh.
Happy Valentine's day my lovelies. X
I heard last week of the death of someone who shared my life very closely for several years. Though we had lost touch, married, had our own families and drifted far, far apart, I was surprised at the shock and grief I felt on learning of his untimely end. He was only 48. He died over a year ago, and I didn't even know. Somehow, that made it worse. I wrote to his brother and his wife which eased me slightly, and I know we cannot keep in contact with everyone we meet on our journey through life. But this one I loved and lived with so he has left a space no-one else can fill. I know. Get over it. I will.
The brown dog is spayed, healed and happy. No more pups from her. We await the black dog's season with great interest. The poodle has a lady booked in for the weekend, and I have given the love-shack a vac. and polish in preparation for his wooing.
Went to see the boys last weekend, as the big boy had a birthday, and the baby boy forgot to take a coat back to University, and has been too busy to fetch one, and too mean to buy another. Therefore, through the snow, ice and rain, he has been very, very, very cold. We dropped off 4 overcoats for him on our way through Leicester, and took the big boy out for a birthday lunch to celebrate his 22nd anniversary. 22. Jeez.
I have just changed my car, two days prior to learning that the baby boy's Masters year will cost a hefty £9000 (no student finance for Masters), plus £6000 living-in at the Royal Agric. College, Cirencester. I may, perhaps, have delayed the car exchange for another year if I had realised the full extent of the cost of a further year at University and can now only shrug in the french manner and say 'c'est la vie'! He is very excited at the prospect of this further year of extremely intense study, so fingers crossed he can achieve the 2:1 he needs to take up the place.
I have a new tenant, after a protracted purchase and renovation of a tiny house in Louth. The neighbours have been somewhat difficult and truculent during the renovation process and it has been quite hard going. Am thinking that if I should ever be in a position to buy another letting property it had better be detached. Very detached. I do understand their fears regarding the prospect of being next door to a 'let' property. Hopefully things have now settled down, they have laid down their hackles, and can get on with their lives in the sure and certain knowledge that the house has not been let to a bunch of drug addicts or turned into a bawdy house.
The farmer is being tortured slowly and not-so-discreetly by a flock of pigeons. He has recruited some assistance in his pigeon clearing task, which involves shotguns and retrievers. He planted 40 acres of rapeseed in the Autumn. All that is left of the infant plants is tufts of skeletal greenery, pecked bare and de-hearted by the ravening hoards of pigeons. The birds roost in The Church trees adjacent to the land. They drop down for supper on their way home in the evenings, and stop for an early and convenient breakfast first thing every morning. They are driving the poor Farmer mad. The Agronomist says he has never seen a year like it for pigeon damage, and ours is some of his worst. Pigeon scaring kites, bangers, and shotguns all only provide a brief respite from the marauding. It looks like the crop will have to be abandoned, and the land seeded with a spring crop when the earth dries out somewhat. Those pigeons have eaten the baby boy's college fees....... Aarrgghhhh.
Happy Valentine's day my lovelies. X
A little pile of fandangoes, awaiting a creative moment
A series of photos, using steak and ribbon
snow, snow, snow, snow
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)