Silent Sunday …
Busy Saturday
Its Saturday and there are some things to do! First I have a monthly session of Open Access, I have been attending this ‘class’ for a few years now; as I began with cutting into pencil erasers and growing into lino, wood. mono-print and today it will be drypoint. It is my dream to to learn various printing methods so that I can mix and match the techniques. The results I will share later.
This afternoon I will grab some lunch then take a bus to the Oracle when I will see Mark Webber as he uses huge spoons to print his Paris map linocut.
So a nice busy day .. I will catch up later. Have a good day …
Friday from my library … Comfort
In between projects (during and after) I browse my collection for ideas, inspiration and motivation … and realise why I love books so much… and sometimes the old ones are just plain comforting.
Alphabe Thursday … P is for People
Povo que não sabe amar
A sua própria cultura
vive imitando os outros
Com os gestos de loucura
povos de outros países
Lhes criticam com censura
People not knowing or loving their own culture, lives only by imitating others with crazy gestures
therefore, open to criticism and censorship from outsiders
Strong words here … for me in a country of diversity and of migrant stock I sometimes wonder where or what my culture is … adopting a bit of this and that and disregarding the other … is that so wrong?
Wednesday’s wise woman ….
I read today that the government has cut Reading Borough’s grant funding by 40% this amounts £39 million to be saved over the next 3 years. This is dreadful; already funds are stretched to the limit. The list of proposed cuts is huge and I won’t dwell on it now now suffice to say libraries will be closed, the buildings mothballed or used for commercial enterprises. Public toilets will be closed. The Town Hall and Museum will be subjected to staff reductions and the Hexagon and South Street will not offer the range of entertainment we have come to expect. The list that affects the elderly, children, those without work and the vulnerable is worrying. These numbers will increase as the meagre funds dwindle, as a result the housing stock will not meet the needs. Those already on the poverty levels will be expected to pay more towards the community charges. The list goes on …
I don’t usually make a political point but I am saddened by this.
I came across this poem in a recent addition to my library Grandchildren of Albion ; by Jean Binta Breeze (1956 -) and it struck a cord.
Reality
Reality
dis is a reality
ah time we tek a stack a de reality,
reality, reality.
dis is a reality
They say the problem of the nation
is overpopulation
and the unemployment stages
and the cutbacks in the wages
are the results of that situation
while the brains of their technicians
are building new moon stations
war weapons increase
while young babies decease
from an illness widely known
as malnutrition
The voters return to the polls
con-trolled by a man in a rolls
who has set up his loyal henchman
to become a politician
to thrill poor people’s souls
Then come new laws on sanitation
designed to cut down on the pollution
but the big man’s factory
dumps its waste into the sea
We read of wars in present history
aimed at saving democracy
each man has won a vote
now the taxes cut his throat
and dreams rot a while
egos fight for supremacy
the power of the intellect of man
is being controlled by the gluttonous ones
who decorate their babel towers
with the brains they have devoured
in their quest for human destruction
Reality
dis is reality
Ah time we tek a stack a de reality,
reality, reality
dis is reality.
Weekly Photo Challenge … From all angles
During my visits to Rio de Janeiro I’m no longer surprised to see the ways and angles at which bicycles are secured to the side of the road. Seeing this one suspended above my head as street art was different.
Monday and the joy
Last week was a little dark for me; although that is nothing new, I have grown used to a certain darkness and not dealing with it as comfortably as possible. Dealing with depression is not an option. However, sometimes while one can feel and even see the effects of the grief or depression, whatever one calls it, we cannot always understand the cause. It is that that is most frustrating; so we look and feel until the pain subsides and we are left wondering. Was it this or that? Should I have done something else? With the best will in the world it doesn’t stop us/me clutching at ideas and solutions to take away the hurt (and it does); like an addict might ache for a drink, a drug or a wonderful shopping experience; I search for relieve.
It Monday morning, long before the sunrise, I get up and remember, today I print the 8th and final colour to the book cover (my son-in-laws), a little pen and ink drawing (my first), there is an olive on my olive tree the first since it was planted 5 years ago. And, if I am to believe the old adage ‘Rain by 7 and clear by eleven’ then I can plant a little hazel tree, whose Latin name eludes me, in my garden. There is joy.
Silent Sunday
Saturday …
For sometime now I have been without an art teacher. The ‘withoutness’ was planned; I had known for a few months that my teacher would be moving out of the area. For the most part I looked forward to beginning a new phase and I still do. I had lots of things planned and those continue joyfully. The summer is still here and there opportunities to come, I hope.
However, the loss of my teacher and friend has left a gulf that is still a bit sour, not soothed by the above mentioned activities. I will never replace my buddy, she was an angel when I needed her most. Now, perhaps I don’t ‘need’ anyone quite so much. Nonetheless, on a day as I try to be an artist and it doesn’t seem so attainable I celebrate the space to begin again.
A snapshot from my Library
I bought this book in Rio last year; drawn particularly by the woodcut; by Gauguin. It tells the story of Paul Gauguin, the forty-three -year old ex-stockbroker who left France for Tahiti where he was to make his home. Here, he is disappointed to find even this South Sea island Tahiti is spoiled by the inroads of Europe and he compelled to move further and further into the back country in order to attain some primitive ideal of naturalness and peace.
Paul Gauguin (1848-1903) was one of the great initiators of Post-impressionism and thus one of the fathers of modern art. Misunderstood and neglected in his lifetime, he is now regarded as a pathfinder and pioneer and his works are among the prized possessions of museums and galleries in Europe and America. … I just love this little book.
Coat Hanger Doll's House 