For the Face Plant Challenge at the ArtSpark Theatre...
30.7.10
28.7.10
The gaps get shorter...
A glimpse of my recent dye try activities...
- soon more...
Wednesday Poem
Shorter than the blink inside a blink
the National Grid will sometimes make, when you’ll
turn to a room and say: Was that just me?
People sitting down for dinner don’t feel
their chairs taken away/put back again
much faster that that trick with tablecloths.
A train entering the Olive Mount cutting
shudders, but not a single passenger
complains when it pulls in almost on time.
The birds feel it, though, and if you see
starlings in shoal, seagulls abandoning
cathedral ledges, or a mob of pigeons
lifting from a square as at gunfire,
be warned it may be happening, but then
those sensitive to bat-squeak in the backs
of necks, who claim to hear the distant roar
of comets on the turn – these may well smile
at a world restored, in one piece; though each place
where mineral Liverpool goes wouldn’t believe
what hit it: all that sandstone out to sea
or meshed into the quarters of Cologne.
I’ve felt it a few times when I’ve gone home,
if anything, more often now I’m old
and the gaps between get shorter all the time.
(Paul Farley: Liverpool Disappears for a Billionth
of a Second - borrowed at 3 QUARKS DAILY)
- soon more...
Wednesday Poem
Shorter than the blink inside a blink
the National Grid will sometimes make, when you’ll
turn to a room and say: Was that just me?
People sitting down for dinner don’t feel
their chairs taken away/put back again
much faster that that trick with tablecloths.
A train entering the Olive Mount cutting
shudders, but not a single passenger
complains when it pulls in almost on time.
The birds feel it, though, and if you see
starlings in shoal, seagulls abandoning
cathedral ledges, or a mob of pigeons
lifting from a square as at gunfire,
be warned it may be happening, but then
those sensitive to bat-squeak in the backs
of necks, who claim to hear the distant roar
of comets on the turn – these may well smile
at a world restored, in one piece; though each place
where mineral Liverpool goes wouldn’t believe
what hit it: all that sandstone out to sea
or meshed into the quarters of Cologne.
I’ve felt it a few times when I’ve gone home,
if anything, more often now I’m old
and the gaps between get shorter all the time.
(Paul Farley: Liverpool Disappears for a Billionth
of a Second - borrowed at 3 QUARKS DAILY)
26.7.10
Shop update or: Berlin Boro
I´ve updated the shop today...
There are some more or less useful quilted items
like this small pouch...
... and this pouch necklace.
And here´s another fascinating piece of Berlin Boro:
an old kitchen towel someone gave me - isn´t that
great when people esteem their trustworthy household
helpers as long as they will keep...
There are some more or less useful quilted items
like this small pouch...
... and this pouch necklace.
And here´s another fascinating piece of Berlin Boro:
an old kitchen towel someone gave me - isn´t that
great when people esteem their trustworthy household
helpers as long as they will keep...
25.7.10
Breeze
Stitched this little quilt today - substitute for a
weekend trip to the sea I guess...
The tassels are made with one of these wonderful
silk fibers I got from Lisa, trading them for a
Pink Pack...
They can be used as they are, or separated into
single strands like embroidery thread, and they
have a very pleasant firm feel to them...
By the way: I have one Pink Cloud and a couple
of Pink Packs left - someone interested in a swap?
And new packs are in preparation...
24.7.10
22.7.10
Blotchy
Here are some blotch personalities I doodled
the other day...
They emerge quite by themselves - children of
the subconscious, I suppose. The lady with the 5-dot
face and long skirt, for example, bears a striking
resemblance to a woman I met at the Textile Art
a few weeks ago...
And the obvious rather evil magician? No comment...
Made a few mixed-medias with blotch figures, too.
Something of this sort will be, amongst other
things, in the shop with my next update...
"Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.
While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And “good-night!” will put it mildly.
Our desires shall be from repressions free—
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll always be Jung together."
(Dorothy Parker: The Passionate Freudian to His Love)
the other day...
They emerge quite by themselves - children of
the subconscious, I suppose. The lady with the 5-dot
face and long skirt, for example, bears a striking
resemblance to a woman I met at the Textile Art
a few weeks ago...
And the obvious rather evil magician? No comment...
Made a few mixed-medias with blotch figures, too.
Something of this sort will be, amongst other
things, in the shop with my next update...
"Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.
While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And “good-night!” will put it mildly.
Our desires shall be from repressions free—
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll always be Jung together."
(Dorothy Parker: The Passionate Freudian to His Love)
20.7.10
18.7.10
Easy
Cooler today, so the living is easy, comparatively...
In the frames here are three small artworks by
Cathy Cullis - they were part of the contents of
a "Midsummer envelope" I purchased from her...
And a small quilt by me, neutrals in mood indigo...
"Blues is easy to play, but hard to feel."
(Jimi Hendrix)
In the frames here are three small artworks by
Cathy Cullis - they were part of the contents of
a "Midsummer envelope" I purchased from her...
And a small quilt by me, neutrals in mood indigo...
"Blues is easy to play, but hard to feel."
(Jimi Hendrix)
15.7.10
Blue note (with grey)
That was the grey part... ( - just a curtain I sprayed
with water...)
On to the blues then, trying to find some refreshment
from the heat:
A cool glass of water...
.JPG)
A paperweight I bought years ago in Denmark...
And a small "long cloth" in the making...
13.7.10
Clouds for a (almost) cloudless day
There were clouds today - but only for a few
precious hours...
At least I´ve been busy with some cloud-making
of my own lately...
... doing avocado-skin dye (rather addictive
occupation), adding different incredients found
in and around the kitchen, such as tea (better
don´t ask me what else - this heat is brain-clogging...)
And again, I have more than I need - so there is,
in adddition to the Pink Pack (thank you for your
continuous affection for it...) now a Pink Cloud Pack
in the shop...
"Low cirrocumulous clouds in the west.
War in the east.
Lift teabag from cup.
Add milk. Ask if it is happiness
or pleasure you prefer.
Watch the storm churn to the surface.
Shadows gather in the valley below.
To count them is to know their many shapes
cannot be counted.
They must be numbered among."
(Suzanne Buffam: EXIT)
12.7.10
10.7.10
8.7.10
Doodling
That´s my pinboard - with good advice, a blotch
doodle I made last night - and a picture of an
enchanting little fellow I saw in a paper -
the expression, small and shy, but very much
himself already nevertheless, the pinkish face,
the grey garments...
And here´s another of yesterday´s doodles...
6.7.10
Conquering
Bit cooler today, so - after licking mental heat
scratches in stitch - I´ll go and stick my nose out
of doors, for a change...
“Activity conquers cold, but stillness conquers heat."
(Lao Tzu)
4.7.10
2.7.10
World within...
Here´s a new crowd of Creatures saying:
Helloo-o, how are you doing...?
They´re in the shop.
"There's no reality except the one contained within
us. That's why so many people live an unreal life.
They take images outside them for reality and never
allow the world within them to assert itself."
(Hermann Hesse, born July 2, 1877)
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