Playing with colour and enjoying getting messy! Made it for two more days,sketch dor days four and five
one of my decisions this time last year was to keep an art diary, for some reason, for many days I just started at the blank page and could not get inspired and then the day job just took over big time. So with the new year just started I thought I would try again. This time a different tack, have decided I can be creative in any way and it doesn’t have to be within the confines of my sketch book.
First two days I gathered some boards and papers, favourite cuttings from magazines, printed out some photos I have taken and so on. Now today is day 3 and finally did a quick soft pastel sketch using Unison pastels, handmade in England ! Kind of inspired by the view from my bay window this evening as the sun was setting. Felt very rusty, but very pleased with myself. This muscle over the past year hasn’t had much exercise as its been absorbed in the day ID day job.
This year I have promised myself a more balanced day, starting meditation, 3o min sketch with watercolour, pastels, pen and ink, charcoal, the morning pages and a walk in the park taking pictures any details that inspire. Then, say once a month or more dedicate my creativity to weekend studio sessions, picking up on my daily creations and explore them further. We shall see how it all unfolds, if the intention is there I am sure something will come of it.
208,560 words to be exact have tumbled from my memory and taken me on one hell of a journey over these past months. I had hoped to have this book finished and two copies printed as gifts to my adult children but alas no, hopefully by end of January I shall have completed, then a final edit, photographs added and prepared to upload for the printing process, so possibly easter maybe.
I didn’t consider at the outset of putting pen to paper that my character and mental wellbeing would rise and plummet in real time along with the journey that started so long ago. There were days I felt euphoric and the words flowed so fast and furious as I recalled the vitality of youth and those first tentative steps out into the wildness of the early 60’s and the birth of my two children. At other times my energy has been totally sapped and felt as if walking in treacle. Days when I stared at the paper and just could not find the words to express the death of my mother, felt shut away in cotton wool and everything felt silent, distant and muffled like the deathly hush of fresh laid snow, just as it did in the experience I was trying to convey. Memories are very powerful indeed, they can be recalled and relived with the same level intensity as when first encountered and many times this year has caught me totally of guard.
Above all, everything makes sense to me now, I can see clearly the cosmic forces at work and with Saturn my ruling planet he has certainly been a hard task master, teaching me lessons so punishingly hard to learn that they bought me to my knees on several occasions. I learnt the hard way, some would say this is only the way, maybe it is? Guess it couldn’t have been any other way, life is in the unfolding and it is to be embraced not resisted or feared, it is just as is should be.
Everywhere is now silent, no passing cars, no neighbours partying, just a beautiful stillness and a feeling of satisfaction knowing that what I have prepared for christmas is perfect and what I didn’t manage is perfect also. I sang Carol’s this evening, not quite like the one here, but just wonderful nonetheless. Happy Christmas everyone.
I just dont know what to think at this very moment, the world is in so nuch pain and distress and feel so helpless to bring any kind of relief except run away from it, but where, the world now seems so small. This Vaughan Williams piece of music is helping me through ( clip below) and the need to escape to somewhere green is ever present
So yesterday I had a splendid afternoon wandering the Cass Sculpture foundation’s 26 acres of forest. Some pieces did not touch me in anyway, just passed me by without any real dialogue, some spoke to me, lured my thoughts and feelings into unexplored territories, some lifted my spirits to a higher plane and one piece in particular mesmerised me totally.
Looking at all the figures staring at me in the woods made me think. The faint watery sunshine was glinting though the trees, it looked as if this gathering of people had marched away from the light, given up on what life used to be, they looked sad and I began to ponder of what life was like looking through they eyes of a child. Now past my prime and sullied by the toxic life we have slowly inhaled these past decades, that light of innocence seems so far away. I walked through the gathering of these eerie metallic shadows and felt the alienation they all felt, severed from their roots, walking aimlessly and then I glanced back and in an instant hope returned. The view had a different energy a real strength and I realised why, we were all walking towards the light, all of us together as a tribe, a community. Together we can change the world, one step at a time and we must not give up hope.
I realised I do not want to feed or support the corporations anymore, enough is enough, I don’t want to give my power away anymore. I am streamlining my life. Why do I have “stuff” I thought I was already doing this, but it’s not enough, I need to do more…………………………… it’s all go to go
Let our dream for the world he big
waking when the sun stirs is a beautiful gift, hearing the birds sing, seeing daylight slowly come to fruition through my curtainless windows.
Slow has to be the way I describe this time, slow and gentle, writing my thoughts, cleansing my head in readiness for the day as well as the body with long glass of warm water and fresh lemon…………. tranquil time before the demands and rigours of my interior design practice try and pull me this way and that.
I couldnt do it any other way
May 24th saw my month in the greek sunshine. Four weeks of quiet and solitude amongst the ancient olive groves of Northern Kefalonia. My aim here was to write my story as explained in my last post and what a setting I had to write all this. An old farmhouse, lovingly restored, plenty of land , fantastic views and my own chickens
I write “morning” pages and have done so for nearly a decade, so used to expressing what is going on for me, so I thought writing a book about my life would be easy.
Fist I went headlong in, typing in word on my laptop, the words and memories just flooded page after page. Exciting or what, as one memory was written down another came to the for and after writing almost daily for a couple of hours I had written 35,000 words and still only reached ten years old. Since my return I am still writing, trying to put my life in its historical setting and the whole process now seems one of “layering”, going back over and adding life’s memories from all vantage points. I am now nearing 60,000 words an 13 years old, its 1962 and threw myself headlong into the 60’s lifestyle when every social norm was challenged, clothing, music, drugs, sexuality, formalities, schooling and dress. The rigid culture of the past decades could no longer be contained, and the call for greater individual freedom broke free. Youth found a voice and every social constraint was there to be broken from Racism to Sexism. Everything was turned on its head, thrown up in the air, and the repercussions of this are still being felt today
Without setting out any real structure before I began only the need to express all this right now , I am finding it rather unwieldy, trawling all these words, to check continuity, tracking my revisions is not easy and perhaps in hindsight I should have done some research on “how” to write a book first. My personality is such, that when the passion comes to give birth to a creation I have to make a start right then and there.