Weekly Photo Challenge: Waiting

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!

Little things…


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


Discovered in Loft: ‘Scrap Heap’, ‘Last Dance’ and ‘Knight Mare’

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.

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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.

Discovered in Loft: ‘Crisp Packet’ and ‘Flint’

These two aren’t really worthy of a post at all, but for the sake of completeness, here they are.

Crisp packet, 1985

Shading is a bit suspect on both – I can hear my art teacher now asking me which direction the light was coming from.

Flint, 1985

Both drawings look as though they had a nice cup of tea spilt on them, although that could just be the aging process caused by being sandwiched between a piece of hardboard and a flattened banana box for 25 years.

So if you’re going to comment on these, be kind and just humour me. I was only 15 when these were done, and I’m not claiming to be an artist.  Well not in the true sense of the word.

Discovered in loft: ‘Hanging Folds’

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.