Artistic endevours

Acrylics painting.
It's not big, and it's not clever.

I can see this is going to take some practice.
On the upside, i've developed a method.
On the downside, i developed this method on the third 'wall' to get the shading right and now i have to at least redo one of the others.
I'm painting this weeks illustration Friday topic of 'Clean'. It's a good topic. Had lots of ideas.

You know what bugs me most about my drawing?
I can draw pretty much anything (to some degree) as long as i can see it in either reality or photo. But am crap at drawing from memory, or 'made up'. But to get my ideas across, i get stuck and they never look as good as they do in my head because i've made them up. I spend a stupid amount of time searching online using google to find resources of whatever it is i'm painting from my mind.
Also there are a million styles i like and want to emulate, the vain search of settling into my own i suppose. And a million ways to do things that i just cant do because i've not got the tools/know how/etc.
Ah well.
I'll soon be trying many things at art college no doubt. Screen printing being one of them. Can't wait for that. And ceramics. And photography. And fucking everything.
*yawn*


I quite fancy moving to Scotland.
Living by the banks of a lonely loch. Misty. Still.

Shenanigans In The Metropolis

Sundays.
Roast dinners and lie ins.
For me today has meant a gentle recovery from a rather wicked and overdue night out. Recovery involved a bottle of coke and several bottles of water, a current bun, many slices of granary bread some with meat and salad and some pure with butter, french fancies, melons, grapes, strawberries and swissroll, and a handful of M&Ms.
And yes i am stuffed quite full thank you!

Good good night last night. I needed a bit of a blow out. Clear the cobwebs. I was a little more tired than i'd of liked to be though, so didn't leave it too late to get home, wandering through the door at about 4 ish.
My brother has found himself a lovely hunk of gay loving in a lad and yesterday i was introduced to him and all his mates. There was cheap red wine, laughter, and dancing at his boyfriends house. Then a delayed entry into Essential to continue said partying with podium activity, grinding, and more love sharing. Apparently i went down well. They said that i looked like my brother's younger sister. MWAHAHAHA. They are a lovely bunch of people though clearly with visual issues.
I HEART THE GAYS.

Tomorrow might see me try and paint with acrylics for the first time. I've been reading up on it, and have got to the stage where i just need to stop faffing and get on a try it. I'll attempt this new Illustration friday's topic in the medium. After all, it is the illustrators best friend apparently. Speed of drying you see. Something that also can be a hindrance according to everything i read. I did last weeks illustration friday's topic of 'Opposites' but was a little late with it and so rushed my composition of a cartoon cat with a hard-on seducing a bird in high heels, only to eat her. I decided not to post it.

Now why does my entire town, which shall remain unnamed but is near Manchester, stink of shit lately? I keep doing that thing where you check underneath your shoe 'just in case'. Someone sort the drains people. *yak*

Conversations with my 13 year old self

Hey me,
Hold your head up high. The bullying will stop but you've many years to go through yet. I know how you will shut out the world and feel worthless and unloved. You're hating your body, your skin, your eyes, your voice, your accent, your nationality, your differences from the other kids. One day you'll realise those differences are what seperate you from the sheep, the livestock, the lemmings. And you will stop feeling ugly inside and out.

Your mother gave you away and you never understood why.
Stop trying to make sense of it. You never will.
But that hurt will fade and almost go away.
Your father doesn't know you and doesn't seem to care even though he is the last lifeboat that you cling to.
Stop trying to get him to love you, to see you. He's forgotton how and won't remember. He'll never love you as much as he should have. He'll not be able to see how similar to him you are.
Don't burn with anger when you look at the woman who's ruining your life. She doesn't matter. She'll be of no consequence soon and the anger will fade to nonchalance.
Find pockets of happiness wherever you can, because it's all there is in life.

You'll be vulnerable and along will come a vulture, a man who'll mess you up, turn you into something you're not and you'll not understand how things became so bad. Eleven years it'll take to get away, but you will, you will.
And once you are gone you will blossom and slowly become the self assured woman with drive, ambition, and happiness that you were meant to be all those lost years ago. The suffering you go through will make you so much stronger than you'll realise.
You'll be able to take any shit, and laugh.
And there will be people who come into your life still that aren't worthy of you, and will try and latch onto you, stopping your development. Parasites that sense your potential and try to hang on for the ride. They will drop off as you travel through life, and you'll see them for what they are, and have a little cynical laugh again.

Like a Glove

So i'm driving down the motorway and daydreaming about smashing into the central reservation, as ya do.
I realised that dying is a somewhat attractive proposition.
Not in a 'i'm going to purposefully take my own life' kind of way. Been there, thought that, got the T shirt.
No, the thought of death doesn't frighten me. It saddens me. My family carrying on in life and me not being able to watch them, grow with them, support them.
But the relief just before you die of knowing that all the shit and fucked up mess that is laughingly called your life is about to end, that's pretty attractive.
Imagine just not waking up one morning and 'doing it all again'.
Imagine the sweet pain as you plummet into a central reservation on a motorway, the noises, the darkness as it all just stops. The relief of not having to struggle anymore.
Not having responsability over others anymore.
Not having to fight for the minimum of your rights as a human being.
But duty stops us from turning the wheel into the barrier.
Duty and remembering that there are moments of real happiness where you truly forget your problems.

Life is tenuous.

Finale

Backed into a corner and i come out spitting,
Ratlike and resistant, everlasting.

Light relief?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

When I'm alone with only dreams of you, that won't come true, I do a poo.

I'm recovering from a bad toilet bout. They happen often. I recover just as quickly but it's a serious side effect from the prescribed meds I take.

Meanwhile I'd like to put a question out.

My boyfriend and I were in my back garden the other night, enjoying the evening and having a drink. We got onto the topic of Rainbow, the old classic kids show, and were laughing at that fake episode they made with all the innuendos in it.
Chortle chortle.

But then we had an upset.
Call it our first argument that came about because we compared Zippy with the robots from the Smash advert.
See I insisted Zippy had brown hair all over his body, like felt, but being somewhat worse for wear I didn't use the more apt word of FUR. Of course I meant fur. But fur was far from my mind. (Have I already mentioned I'm a heti?)
Anyway, my boyfriend was equally insistent that Zippy had no 'hair' and his substance was meant to be skin.
I present your honour with the following evidence:


You can see where this is going can't you.
So yes, sadly our differences were unreconsilable and we've parted ways.

[Ed: that last sentence might be a lie]

Playing Catchup

Well...
I've not spoken about much of great detail in this blog yet.
When I began to write again, i was hesitant and wondered whether it was a good idea. The Ex would probably find it again, and could I really be bothered with the hassle? But there's that unconquerable little voice in me that says it's my right to have my voice and use it. It wouldn't shut up see. And although I felt very out of the loop when a month when past since my old blog died, I decided to tentatively be reborn.
As for personal details, recognisable details, I've decided my blog isn't my blog without certain real pieces of me in it. And I've decided that as long as i'm careful about it's content regarding certain aspects of my life that I shall not speak about again, then no harm no foul and anything else goes.
It's about time.

How's that for a bit of detail huh?

Those of you who have found me, and realised who I am, hello peeps!

Lets see.
A little run down of events since I left my last blog.

• I won an award at college for receiving the highest mark in Psychology.
• I completed and hopefully aced another counselling exam.
• I still revel in money worries but one more month and that'll be a bit better.
• I'm moving house around October into an 1850's big two bed victorian which i'll be turning quickly into a three bed to suit my needs. It's two doors down from my mother's house which will be immeasurably handy for me in years to come after my studies. More importantly it'll be MY home, not some landlords.
• I formally enrolled at Art College for September and made advances to the A2 Eng Lit at City College Manchester.
• The Guy and I are bemused at our whirlwind romance. Even though we knew each other a little beforehand, we only technically started going out together three months ago. Madness. Seems like i've never not known him and had him in my life. In a good way!
• My upper lip is healing now post waxing thank you very much.
• My brother just had the laser eye treatment done and it has confirmed for me how much I am never likely to do it!
• I do still however want my tummy tuck.
• I Really want to be an illustrator. Keep reading inspiring stories on illustrators and it's the ideal job for me.
• That or the other five million jobs that I want to do still.
• I went on holiday with the family and the dogs to Presthaven Sands and really enjoyed it. Didn't much care for the ant population however.

So hmmmm.. that's about all i can muster for the moment.
The Guy is coming up for a bit of a holiday till wednesday which is going to be lovely. We've not spent that many days on the trot together yet. I'm not worried.

I've got a few weeks free time which will see me doing some painting, pissing about, and i'm going to be hitting the clubs I hope soon. I haven't been dancing since May.
That shit is Wack!
'In the evening I come alive'

Wanna see?

I've dyed me hair, waxed me upper lip and got a suntan.
I'm all set for anything.


Except a letter from HM Revenue & Customs asking me to get my arse in gear and return some annual declaration form to them.
Eh?
Um.
In the immortal words of Chicken Little:
"Who we talkin' bout?"


Waxing upper lips though. I forget each time what fresh hell that is. And remember all too clearly once i've ripped the first bit of flesh off my upper lip. I don't really need to bother, but always think it's a good idea at first. Want to look my best and all that. Plus, stand unfortunately in the summers sun and people confuse me with Magnum PI. I also forget about the red afterburn and bruising that takes at least a day to go. I had to meet some important people today and could feel the red glow burning through the trowl thick emergancy make up i'd applied. Course in this weather the lot had melted off within seconds anyway.
My poor boyfriend.
Have I mentioned before that hearing the Magnum PI theme tune makes me want sex?
Sorry, strayed from the blogging path there.

Illustration Friday: Sacrifice.

Click for bigger image.

I had too many ideas for this one, and most of them were too personal to put on paper. Way too personal. So instead I was brainstorming the word and it's meaning, which led me to draw a woman (loosely me) thinking of the word and all the things it means to her are tumbling and jostling around her mind.
The other idea involved the theme of Suicide Bunnies, a book i bought once. So funny.

Trivia

When did they do a make over on the Fireman Sam theme tune?!
It's very McFly.
I think that's giving McFly too much credit mind you.

And speaking of such things...
I'm still flummoxed at the delicious smell of playdough. Making it smell so lovely has to be a bad thing. I wonder how many kids have eaten some? I wonder what your poo would be like!

Stop Press

I was just rubbing my nose (not picking) when a random nose hair fell out onto my hand.
It was massive.
I am distraught!

Meme me.

1. How tall are you barefoot? 5'9"

2. Favorite movies? Zoolander, 50 First Dates, Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless Mind, ETC....

3. Do you own a gun? No, but my father does. I have moaned at him about this.

4. Who is your biggest enemy? That would be telling.

5. Favorite Scent? Irrestistable by Ginvenci (or however you spell that?)

6. Do you like hot dogs? Meh.

7. What's your favorite Christmas song? Something old

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Virgins blood. Or tea.

9. Do you do push-ups? Lady versions sometimes. But there's a limit to how buff i want my upper arms to get! Would rather not resemble a Russian steriod swallowing athlete. Although I do have the tash if i don't pluck!

10. Brothers or sisters? One brother and a half sister.

11. What's your most liked piece of jewelry? I don't have a favourite piece of jewelry anymore. I used to have three. A necklass and two bracelets.

12. What do you take for pain relief? Everything.

13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex? Hmmmm. If i have one its... being forward, even though really i'm shy, and maybe my eyes.

14. Do you own a knife? Obviously.

15. Do you have A.D.D.? Nope.

16. Middle name? Yep.

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment: Bugger. I could use a drink. I want a kiss from someone special.

18. Name the last 3 things you have bought: Buy one get one free Maryland choc chip cookies, emergancy calpol, orange squash. Wow, exciting!

Ok this meme went on til 50, and i'm now bored... Be glad i've spared you all. All er three of you!

Hope lies scrawled across a dotted line.

Well, i've done it.
Signed on that dotted line for two years of possibilities and art college.
There are finer points to yet sort out. Like I might be unable to go to any classes for the first three weeks due to other obligations, but the dude (a professionaly term for helpful tutor type) said he'd speak to my tutor personally tomorrow and see what she suggests.

I really feel like i'm jumping in the deep end again.
I like it.

I don't think I was ever destined for a 'normal' life, even had other things turned out differently. I was born to crisis and redemption, to unlikely events and usual occurances. I've clinically nearly died twice. Moved to other countries. Lived in the lap of extreme luxury, and opposing poverty. Farmers daughter, aircraft engineers daughter, Delboy's daughter, no man's daughter. Ups and downs. Lefts and rights. And thats the tip of the iceburg.
Recognising that society's norms don't apply to me makes it a little easier.
Mind you...
What's normal?
I doubt anyone thinks they are living a normal life.

I HEART art. (although not generally my own)

Well, just when I loiter near rock bottom again, something picks me up.
I'll let you in on a sneaky secret.
When I thought i wouldnt be able to take the two year art course due to funding from September, a little tiny part of me was relieved. Through no fault of my own, I wouldn't have to prove myself, push the boundaries of my own abilities and try something so completely different with such huge hopes pinned onto it.
But I found out after a very nice phone call with a finance woman that I am in fact rather sorted for the course with all the finances absolutely fine and dandy.
Oh.
My.

So my original plan is back on track, and I'm excited and suddenly queasy at the same time!
Oh.
My.

For the first time I'll be doing something that I've no real confidence in. All the other courses i've done so far I knew i could do. I knew, I wouldn't fail as long as I was able to do the work (something that wasn't always possible in the end). But this relies on talent.
Oh.
My.

I wish i was a hermit with twigs in my hair..

So many niggling things.. so little time!

I keep questioning all aspects of my life lately. I feel like I'm perpetually turning a corner, but never quite getting round that bend to the other side. Feel like not bothering and just sitting down on the pavement with my legs crossed. A never ending tunnel with that light at the end waiting for me. Only what I can't see because i'm shrowded in darkness, is that I'm actually walking on a treadmill and will never get there.
I did one of those silly tests yesterday. Even though I know the answer. 'How long have you been feeling like this? You may be suffering from clinical depression.'
Other people shouldn't be able to make me unhappy and affect me so much, but that's just as silly as saying flies shouldn't be attracted to shit.

Illustration Friday: Skyline

My idea for Skyline.
I realised afterwards that a lot of people will probably be doing a similar thing. What can i say, I liked the titles to The Outer Limits!
I used watercolour paper, because i intend to go over it in pen and watercolour. Just also realise that when i do.. i'll probably make a mistake and be annoyed. Its also done over two seperate pieces of paper because one wasn't long enough. And i HATE having to take photo's of my pictures because they never turn out well. But hey!

ARGH!

I HATE Nikki on Big Brother.
She should be flogged on her exit.

And that Jayne piece of crap.
Eugh.

Slow Down..

I was perusing my career options today. Looking through list after list of possibilities. Pouring over the Learn Direct website and exploring each job listing that vaguely caught my eye.
I wonder what I should glean from the knowledge that two seperate career advice programmes have matched me with the stimulating occupation of embalming. I would like to state that it's not high up on the list mind you. I'm not considering it either!
I've been worried of late. Floundering. Wondering whether i'm choosing the right path, or even if this path is financially possible.
This evening I returned to the pc to look at the lists once more. Check out an ever growing list of qualification paths. Getting more muddled and less certain as I went.
So I closed them down with the hump, and began checking out illustrations for this weeks Illustration Friday prompt.
I found a different type of inspiration.
Somewhere in the depths of a blog that I know longer remember, I found a link to a concept that's made me relax about my current dilemma.
Slow Life.

'In the late twentieth century,' explains Japan For Sustainability, 'Japan valued and pursued the 'fast, cheap, convenient, and efficient' life that brought us economic prosperity. However, it also caused problems such as dehumanization, social ills, and environmental pollution. We would like to move forward, with the slogan "Slow Life," to achieve 'slow, relaxed and comfortable' lifestyles, and shift from a society of mass production and mass consumption to a society that is not hectic and does cherish our possessions and things of the heart.'

I need to worry less, stress less, and enjoy more. With the myriad of people on my back who shake their heads at the route my life has taken, it's no wonder that their mental defacation has stained me, made me think that i'm doing something wrong and need to hurry up and get through this adult studying as quick as possible in order to be economically proficient, rather than enjoy each phase of my life as it comes.

Ok, so I don't know what September will bring, and if i'm not careful I'll go nuts trying to figure out all my options before they are even presented to me. So Slow Life.

And then, as if the first epiphany hadn't touched me enough, I visited one of my favourite artists' blogs out of the blue. I'd not been for a few months as my time/inclination for art dwindled whilst the stress increased. But I've been staring at my watercolour sketch pad today, wanting to create something and lose myself in the process. Which was why I was looking for inspiration at Illustration Friday Dot Com. So i went to Everyday Matters, and by chance I came across his blog post about the very same epiphany that i've just had.

Funny old thing life.

The beginnings...

...are often hardest.
Where to start?

Perhaps with the title.

I'm a Daddy's girl.
Big time.
I remember how much I adored him when I was little.
He used to come home and before dinner i would insist he play 'Lay Down Donkey Bites' on my parents' double bed. It had a soft well washed cotton duvet cover that was a gentle grass green with a small pattern on it.
I remember feeling so safe around him. His smell.
My devoted father.
We used to live down a very potholed private road next to the river Thames.
When he rang my mum to tell her he was on his way from work, she'd walk with me all the way down this long potholed road, flanked on one side by the longest line of squat bungalows, each one looking different. From my point of view they would stretch for miles.
On the left hand side as you walked down that endless potholed road with its squat bungalows, was a huge meadow. The lines of houses were against the river bank, and the road followed the line of the river and curved in a wide arc around the meadow in the middle, creating a giant semicircle before ending. A row of trees and bushes alongside a big ditch made the definate edge to the semicircle, cutting it in half and keeping cows inside. When I was older those trees and that ditch became the best place to play.
So my mum and I would walk the long walk to the end of the road, and meet my dad coming home on his Triumph Bournville motorcycle. And he would pick me up, and sit me in front of him and we'd drive all the way back down that potholed road leaving my mum to walk back behind us.
I was so young then, that I don't remember the rides fluidly like i've just described, but my mum mentions them often and i remember the jigsaw pieces that her retelling puts together for me.

My dad is a handsome version of Delboy Trotter. In almost every way possible. He even has a similar walk, similar speach patterns, smokes cigars, and similar hair although my dad's is now shocking white.
He is definately a wheeler dealer. Or at least he was in his prime. Not by trade at all, he was a much sought after aircraft designer for BA and Focker amongst others. He even helped design Concorde.
But inside he's the wheeler dealer Delboy. But perhaps with a harder edge. A time worn cynical side.

Things change, and people grow apart.
My Dad is now at the opposite end of the country and we haven't seen each other for nearly two years. Such is the way of things now.
I'm no longer a child, and adulthood has seen him shrink back. He also has a new daughter from another marriage who replaced me. A natural event with reconsituted marriages where children's births are spread over many years. She's the baby. I was the first. Dad even gets our names mixed up in conversation, calling me Sarah, or her me.
He's getting on a bit now bless him.

I'll always be Delboy's Daughter.