The grey, wet, windy view from my car as I wait to pick Daughter of Mine up from her school.
Usually she walks to her old primary, to meet me and her brother there, but I took pity on her today, given that the weather was so bad. She did also have a batch of Christmas shortbread to carry from this afternoon’s Food Tech lesson – of course, none of us wanted it to end up as crumbs!
Son of Mine came out of school excited too as he has been chosen to sing a solo verse of ‘O, Little Town of Bethlehem’ at the end of term concert.
When pressed for more details of his day, he also declared that it was exciting because today was his first day of writing with a pen, rather than a pencil, because his handwriting is so neat!
I’ve been having a black and white photography day today to match the weather… check out today’s blip over at seen by highonahill
Ok. Continuing with the last of the artwork I found in the loft, here’s the three paintings that, aged 15, I obviously thought enough of to want to keep. I’ve no idea what inspired them. Although I think I may have been a little disturbed.
I had already thought I had posted these, but no – I had merely saved the bones of this post as a draft. Anyway, I was reminded of them during a chat with Artist Masquerading as a Manager today.
A fitting post then, perhaps, as looking at ‘Scrap Heap’ and ‘Last Dance’ again, they eerily reflect elements of the tragic events that are continuing to unfold in Japan.
Ok. Here it is. The first piece in my O level art portfolio that I found in the loft. The amazing thing is I’ve put it back up there. Why? It might be a discovery for me but it’s hardly going to be a major one for the art world when I’m dead and gone.
Hanging Folds, 1985
Mmm. I’m not sure what was interesting about this particular dressing gown. It looks much the same as all the others I’ve had in my life. The one I have at the moment is pale pink (not really me) but very warm and fleecy (very me; chilly mortal that I am). Oh and unlike this one, it has a hood. So I can look like a grumpy teenager at breakfast.
My current dressing gown is an artist in its own right. Every morning, it casts fantastic shadows on the floor of the bathroom; the overhead spotlights are at just the perfect angle to exaggerate the curves and folds of the material and bring them to life as the silhouette of a face in profile – sometimes an animal, but more usually a witch, alien, goblin or demon.
Deformed fantasy or sci-fi characters seem to be the focus of my artistic ability.
More to follow. Oh, the excitement.