Refreshment

Star light

Star bright

First star I see tonight

Wish I may

Wish I might

Have the wish

I wish tonight























My dad taught me that

on starry, moonlit walks through Top Camp woods to the library.

In my memory I spent the summers playing in the woods and the winters reading adventure stories.



Such magic.



Starlit skies.



My Dad expressing the romanticism that lay beneath a stern exterior.

The stories that he told and the stories that I read.

The first sight of any star in any sky brings all that back.



These beauties are made by Louise Allen.

I have said elsewhere that this photo does not do them justice and I cannot emphasise that enough.

I bought a little box of 5 beautifully crafted, exquisite stars which are just a joy to behold and will be adorning my Christmas twig this year.

















Louise also made this funky little heart necklace. Which will adorn moi but may also make an appearance as a garland on the twig.









Oh how I wish I could refer to myself as twig!!







Heading closer to the girth of a redwood cedar after a short break in the Somerset countryside and Clifton area of Bristol.

So much great coffee, food and cake in less than half a square mile around my son's flat.

The primrose cafe in particular and their wellness salad was scrumptious.













The random bus is just ....random.

Bristol has random down to a fine art.

On one visit I was treated to the sight of a naked man on a unicycle.

Oh yes I was!



More fantabulous coffee at Durslade Farm, Bruton.

Oh and fantabulous art too.

An exhibition of Phylida Barlow's work and a permanent ( I think) spider by Louise Bourgeoise.

Tho I have to say I was confused by the timing of the grand opening of the garden.

Designed by Piet Oudolf  it  was clearly at its best much earlier in the summer.

A tad disappointing.







































I just didn't get it!



But what I did get, in spades,

(an unintended pun)

from the whole trip, was inspiration and time to just be,

to breathe and relax.

And I hadn't realised just how much I needed that.

And swerve.....

I was going to write about my dog.






Tell his story.

Because it is so tightly intertwined with my own.

But it chafes to do so.

Because it is complicated.

Because our relationship began at a painful rupture in my life and because he reacquainted me with my dark side.

And as we know, this blog is about the light and not the dark.



But I have a dark side.

It is not murderously dark or criminally dark.

Not even that interestingly dark.

Just unattractively so. Yeah, quite ugly.



Today I got my iPod back onto shuffle.

I love Cat Stevens with a fiery passion but not so much that the one track over and over and over again wouldn't drive me insane.

So I have gone without my tunes for quite some time now.

And today I managed to fight my way through the tecno jungle and reset my iPod so that it behaves.

I listened to my tunes, the grand, heart swelling ones as I walked the dogs.



I was mightily moved.

I walked and snivelled and snotted quite a bit.

One track is the one that I would like to make my final departure to.

Oh yeah.

I have thought about that. You know, the inevitable.

Because?......because it is the sweetest sound. The angels probably hear it and chuck away their harps. To me this music sums it up, to me it says that the very best and the very worst of humanity is usually contained within each of us.

Life is this exquisite blend of darkness and light.

I read a blogpost where the blogger referred to their life as a forest. And how they would choose to make it a forest of love rather than a forest of fear and doubt.

I loved that idea.

Life as a forest.

It suggests to me something fecund and fragrant. Full of sunlight and shadow.

Full of foliage and birdsong and unseen rustling critters.

But possibly wolves and bears.

Oh and now the iPod is fixed....music too.

I walk eternally, in a forest, with my brother. He shuffled off a while ago but in a forest fragrant with pine we still walk and talk of places we called home.













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Explaining quirk strangeness and charm

quirk strangeness and charm........occupies a shop space. Prior to our ownership it was an antique shop, a taxi office, a bakery and I believe a takeaway pizza place. Not necessarily in that order.
Now, it doesn't fit any easily explainable,rational model.



We bought this place because we could.
Because it had a great feel to it.
Because it was big enough for 4 humans and 2 cats ( this was life before the Hairy Herberts; we had fluffy felines then) and it had a separate space for us, two recent art graduates, to work without encroaching on any of our living space.


That was 10 years ago.


Rambling Randall does still paint and photograph stuff but it is mainly me that occupies the shtudio.
Shop/studio = shtudio.
Not a word that ever issues from my lips but is often on the tip of my tongue.


My skills-that-pay-the-bills consume 3.5 days a week.
I am very lucky that they don't consume any more but there is all the other domestic and life stuff to do so I only commit to being in the studio 1 day a week although I am in there much more than that. Early mornings. Late evenings. Waiting for the washing machine to finish or food to cook.
Most days,at some point, in fact.
But on Saturdays I commit to being in there and opening the doors between 10 and 4. Every week.


It is creative chaos as you can see.
I love this space with all my heart.
It is my home.
The other rooms are where I cook and eat and sleep and stuff. But in my studio is where I am truly at home.
Or out to lunch!
Away with the fairies!



If I were renting this space from someone else I would have to admit financial defeat. As it is my poor accountant thinks I am heading inexorably toward the home for the artistically insane.
And it doesn't make sense.
Not on any kind of spreadsheet or ledger.
But to my heart and to my soul it makes as much sense as oxygen does to my lungs.

Flow

You know how it is.
Sometimes life is all ragged round the edges.
Nothing seems to fit or go according to plan
And other times it is a joyous seamless blend.
I think they call it flow.
Bit like this dress, these flip-flops and these toes.




I love my feet.
So far they are ageless and the same size that they were when I was 21.... unlike no other part of my body.
As you know my levels of self care are poor so I have delegated foot care to my lovely friend who is dusting off her skills as a beautician.
It gives me a sense of well being like nothing else and it gives hear a few quid and practise.




Not only did my clothing flow this week but so did ideas.
The houses began to speak to me and slow progress was made.
After the paper mache construction bit they get painted in white acrylic. Very time consuming with lots of drying time in between the layers of glue and paint.
When they are all white I start the even more laborious task of applying bits of paper and tissue. I do love decoupage but it is a bit of a faff.
And I think of it as cheating.
Just a little bit
So I have been wondering how I might incorporate my own drawn or painted images. Had a little light bulb moment followed by an "ah ha!"
Painting on tissue paper as in this sketchbook page.
















This little shelving unit "said let me house the houses". And so I did.
Now as much as I value D.W.'s words of wisdom I had to move past them and throw a few bricks at beauty anyway.








And I was quite pleased with the result. But, the words do still look like bricks to me!

Naples yellow is my new love.

It's been a funny sort of day.

If I had a rummage I could probably find a dog eared, dauntingly long to do list.
We all know the benefits of them for keeping on track and I love'em.
Love writing them anyways.
Not so much the following through and ticking off.
Today a TDL felt a bit like tyranny.
Ergo I has not rummaged.

Time is precious. And time is short.
Always so aware of this.
The jolly old 30 minute kitchen timer trick is, as you know, a new found friend of mine and a great enabler.

So what did I do?
Abandon all the time control tricks and freefall through the day.




On the misplaced to do list is to sort out this dragonfly house.


Now, my head critic, D. W. ( pronounced dee double-yer) pulled no punches and made comments about throwing bricks at dragonflies and killing beauty!
Which is exactly the reason that D.W. holds that particular executive position.
She shoots from the hip and in ways and words that I immediately 'get'.
She also affirmed for me the notion that trusting your first instinct is often the wisest thing to do.



I am currently waiting for these houses to speak to me.
Tho small,they are deceptively the strong silent type.




While I waited for my instinct to kick in I reminded myself of all the colours in my watercolour palettes.


And I discovered and got better acquainted with a neglected Naples Yellow.


Then I made a bit of pretty. Just so I wouldn't feel I had wasted creative time.
Got to have something to show for 6 solid hours in my studio. And lots of small colourful squares just didn't cut the mustard.





For those of you who have subscribed to my inaugural newsletter let me just 'fess up that it is taking longer than expected.
I am trying to get the balance right between newsletter and spewsletter.
I kind of want to fill in some historical blanks without boring the backside off you and filling you in on future plans without making you giddy with excitement.
It's a tightrope let me tell you.