10 May 2010

I've been duly admonished for not posting a blog of late. Thank you, Tom. It's nice to know that someone out there minds enough to mention it.

Today is a Monday, but I'm not at work. I've got remote access which is wonderful and means that I can email and draft in my slippers which is just a hoot. At the moment, I'm listening to the Magnetic Fields... another hoot. Just call me an owl...

Or don't, because I'll probably forget that I said that and it will perplex me.

Last week I picked up the easel! I took Friday afternoon off to bus myself up to Seven Sisters and actually finally managed to drop that amplifier back to Andy. It was heavy and awkward and I'm just so glad to be rid of it. The easel, on the other hand, was heavy and awkward and I love it to pieces. Andy found it at an antiques store once in the distant past. It has a little cardboard note dangling from it which says "Lady Bonham Carter with grateful thanks for the loan". Another hoot. Who knows whether it's a truthful representation as to the easel's past, but doesn't it touch up a nice story so well.

So, where are we at. I've sanded my pre-stretched canvas and I've applied two coats of gesso. Then, I managed to lay my first undercoat. This morning, now that the paint is mildly dry, I've sketched a charcoal of the vase and flowers which are my subject and then I mixed up the colour of one of the stripes on the vase but the undercoat wasn't dry and I had to abandon it. I can reuse the paint that I've mixed, so it's no matter. But I think that I've mixed the paint too thick and with too much oil. We'll see. I don't want the layers to come away from each other.

When will it dry? I hope soon. As with any of these hobbies, I need to start fast and enthusiastically. If the past is anything to judge by, as my enthusiasm wanes the hobby becomes a memory, an interesting talking point and another string on a rather useless bow.

Yesterday I started my "fruit diet". I'm interested to prove the theory that one need only sleep four hours a night on such a diet. I'll keep you updated on my progress. I would assume that it will take a few weeks to settle in and I'd base this assumption on the fact that I slept for nine hours last night. I had ruined myself with wine for the days running up to the diet so there's little more to be expected.

On Thursday I went to see The Habit of Art as I've mentioned. Oh... it was so good! Thomas has a couple of tickets for us so that I can go see it again in the extended season. Very, very enjoyable. I think I'll be purchasing a copy so that Daddy can have a read. Not the same as seeing Mr Griffiths in the flesh, but probably a fine enough way to experience it. I experienced Stoppard for the first time on the page, not to mention Wilde, and I don't feel any worse for it. I love them both. Even when Raymond Hawthorne stomps all over it with his direction. Yes, I'm referring to Rosencrantz at the Maidment all those years ago.

Back home from the lonely theatre, the election results were running up a storm. In fact, yesterday I lazed about, waiting for paint to dry, and watched the BBC, waiting for people to emerge from their respective houses. That's right... all-day door-watching and reports of people opening and closing them. Very boring. Everyone is so excited about forming a majority government. We do this all the time in New Zealand and we're fine. No riots. Sometimes it can take a couple of weeks to settle the numbers, ministers and such. MMP is the most democratic way, of course, and much more civilised.

Back to Friday afternoon, Andy and I had a greasy spoon. Actually, it wasn't greasy spoon breakfast but lunch, and we had lasagne and chips. My inside's are so terribly unhappy with me. I had tapas and cake for dinner that night at Raj's birthday and followed it on Saturday morning with Bloody Mary's and G&T's at the Hawley Arms. I chased it up with dinner at Satuma with Nicola. I love that place but you can see why the fruit diet is called for.

Poor little body.

And, really, that's why I haven't been blogging. Busy, busy, busy... as Vonnegut says. But, he refers to coincidences on a universal scale rather than the fact that I've been running helter skelter around the city falling, dancing, falling again... The dancing took place at Notting Hill Arts Club on Friday night after the tapas. It wasn't quite the same as our last visit. The live band was finishing up and the crowd was messy. I fought off an attempted rape by some drunken man whilst trying to get to Raj to say goodnight.

I've uploaded a photo because there's no reason to believe me without evidence. Not of the attempted rape which I could never prove because I'm using hyperbole in the first place, but of the painting. Hopefully you can make out the beginnings of an attempt at shading. I've used yellow ochre and cadmium yellow mixed with a large amount of titanium white and mineral spirits. Then I added some more of both colours to the palette to make the corners and shadows ready for the figure. I think I'll add some grey hue to the recesses because I can see some grey in the line of the walls meeting.

Incidentally, this is atop our heating unit - there is a boiler underneath it. Nick purchased the spoon that graces our wall whilst he was travelling in South America. Why did he buy a large spoon and cart it around South America with him? I'm still unsure.

Until the next riveting instalment of my life and times, adieu.