Back to the drawing board

To be honest with you, I did not feel happy with my last piece. I started to use more colours, which was not the original idea. But its done now and it shall be consigned to a specially designated area of my studio: under some books somewhere.
So heres something I just started this morning, and Im determined not to puke all over it in strange shades of ochre.
p.s Have you noticed my snazzy new header? I might dabble with it abit more but for now im going to leave it alone. At least for the sake of whats remaining of my sanity.
Have a nice day y'all!

 

I have html codes coming out of my

nether regions. As you may have noticed, there have been a few changes around these neck of the woods. Honey and the Moon is under construction. Big time. And it is all being executed by me. Mr T has remained absent throughout this huge undertaking. Hes just thinking about his own safety.
If I can do something nifty with the title, add a spot of colour here and there, upload a patterned background...I have smoke coming out of my ears, Im rocking back and forth and pulling out my hair.. my eyes are glazed over by all those letters and numbers and punctuation marks that I normally never use but should....I have SEEN THINGS I tell you!! I have seeeeeen things.....

Three hours of this. Surely this is not good for the average human being.

Swirly things

have a tendency of making me ooohhh alot. And looking at this piece by the artist Jennifer Judd-Mcgee, I think I broke the world record for ooohing the longest (the last time I did this was when I saw a pair of black and white polka dot open toed heels). Her lines are delicate and feminine and you can really see how much she enjoys doing it. You could just smell the happiness. This work in particular,(done on a fabulous antique ledger)looks as though the pen never came off the paper.It reminds me of the doodling I used to do with pen as a kid, before colouring in all the shapes.
All in all, a lovely piece of creative wizardry

Friday Night

Spent most of it working but in the evening me and Mr T went to the Cultural Arts Centre in Belem to watch a film about Bangladesh. It was part of a documentary film season, along with theatre and dance performances. Normally Im really lazy when it comes to going to things like these but when I heard that the tickets were not only free but about Bangladesh I knew I had to go and see it. Unfortunately I appeared to be the only Bengali person who turned up. Thats something that bugged me abit, a part of me feels disheartened by it, but another part of me feels slightly embarassed at observing something that is a part of me and yet so distant from me too. Anyway, it was a lovely documentary about a community of villagers who spend half the year almost entirely submerged in water. Like travelling gypsies, they have to dismantle their homes once the waterlevel rises uncontrollably, in search for any piece of land. It was amazing to see how self sufficient and high spirited some of the villagers were and how happy the children were playing in such treacherous conditions. Very humbling for me in particular, having grown up in London with all the comforts of a westernised upbringing. It made me appreciate that if it wasnt for the decision of my parents to leave their homeland I would have had a completely different childhood.
I tried looking for a clip of the film via youtube but unfortunately I couldnt find it. Its called Sand and Water. Trust me to not remember the director either.

Finished piece

 

I did it!

After searching for the manual instructions on the net in English I have finally conquered my sewing phobia. My mum would be so proud.

 

I thought I would let you have a little peek

into what I have been doing every weekday morning so far. Extra long working hours make things that should take only a day or two, much longer to finish. But I appreciate this slowtime and Im seeing it in a positive light. It teaches me to be more patient with the things that I create as opposed to rushing things as I tend to do. This is the reason why Mr T is a better cook than me.

 

Old books

like this make me happy. It belonged to Mr Ts father. I especially love the rough edges of each page, along with the illustrations inside. With its leather bound cover and ribbon, I couldnt resist taking this home with me to dream about reading this to my grandchildren oneday. Its all in Portuguese,thats why Im giving myself the octogenarian deadline.

 

An authentic doily

Mr Ts not sure but he thinks his grandmother made this. We found it amongst various crocheted coasters and dinner mats at his family seaside cottage. I get a lump in my throat just looking at how much love was put into it. I would like to crochet oneday but I think my sewing machine will start getting jealous. I tried teaching myself how to thread the poor thing but it took me ages and made my hands felt like the size of boxing gloves. Anyway, going back to the lovely doily, we are thinking about having it framed.

 

Fish girl

 

Sunday night

spent listening to the Kooks whilst rustling up steamed chicken breast with a creamy leek and mushroom sauce. Im not the greatest cook in the world, half the time I dart dangerously between stove and cook book, knife in one hand and a random vegetable in the other. But Mr T always comes to save the day. Hes my own personal Jamie Oliver with the only difference being that he swears in Portuguese.
Ive also been doing this piece. Im trying to adopt the minimum colour technique. It feels abit like going on a diet, except with colour. However, if it could in someway succeed in controlling the ever increasing midriff wobble I would be going monochrome whilst munching on Dime bars without any problem whatsoever. You may notice in the far right, a certain Mr T watching a cooking programme in dismay. He cant stand competition.

Friday was a national holiday

but when I asked, nobody seemed to know why, but now I do. It has something to do with this lady

 

I am trying to brush up on my photography skills. After a little stroll by the riverside with Mr T (we had to work off our brunch) I noticed this lovely creature outside our local 'frutaria'. What with everything being closed due to that lady I mentioned, and the fact that the prospect of a long weekend usually culminates in a mass exodus from Lisbon to the Algarve, you could walk about in silk slippers and it would be as loud as a herd of Portuguese bulls being chased down the street. It was THAT quiet. So I decided to take a photo of an old VW Beetle. Not quite sure if that explained my reasoning. Probably not. Never mind. Just squint your eyes and imagine it in black and white. And think about Fellini too. That should do it.

 

 

Weekend read

loving this. 

Miss Lisette

 

Dont hate me Mr Sewing machine

 

What you see here is something called...

artists block. The dreaded thing struck me down a few days ago hence the lack of blogging and creating. My desk is a mess of things that could be going somewhere and things that are frankly going to the bin. My sewing machine is still sitting at the corner giving me the guilt trip and whilst writing this I have just chewed the sticker on my apple. Dont you just HAAATTTE it when that happens? Anyway at least I got abit of reading done over the weekend, something I havent done in a while, and the flowers on my verandah are lookin alot perkier these days too.
I bought a whole load of synthetic stuffing for my future fabric sculptures (which basicly means random inanimate shapes because I havent got a clue how to make dolls like the fabulous Miss Kirsten and Elsita) 

Little Red bird

 

Just needs a coat of varnish. Hope you like it.

This time, I studied the menu on my camera

Lo and behold! Its as as clear as the clearest bluest sea and the brightest sun!

 

 

"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than ...

..what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise" [Lewis Carroll]
Still at it with the clay pendant/brooch type thingys, and this time I have been experimenting with bits of vintage paper, with gluey fingers included. It took a while but the end result was quite pleasing. I have no photos of them yet but I will post them tomorrow morning with all the glorious sunlight weve been enjoying lately over here. I still havent touched my sewing machine yet..Im scared! Beginner sewing classes are in desperate need right now. As well as perhaps a therapist as I have started to stare at Mr Singer with glazed eyes. Slight cause for concern there I think.
Ive been in such a creative mood over the last year or so and sometimes I feel like kicking myself for having been 'dormant' for sooo long. Apart from the on and off poetry writing, I was so afraid to paint, or just create with whatever I had at hand. There was so much self expectation on my part but at the same time I never felt I had anything up there in my head that was worth putting down on paper. I know how equally frustrating it can be when none of my ideas seem to be going anywhere. Learning to put a great idea to rest because of its short lifespan is a really hard thing to do. I hate doing it. The idea, the image, the sentence that kept me up all night only to see that it just doesnt translate itself into the language I want via my pens and paints... thats hard..
But Im happy! I have a beautiful home, a beautiful husband, and a newly painted verandah with new plants after my previous ones had been sorely neglected due to all the wedding madness. I have a fantastic space for creating stuff. Tomorrow Im going to get myself a swivel chair, a board for all my visual inspiration as Im getting buried under magazine cutouts, and a desk lamp for my drawing board.
I would also love to have a sewing manual! If there are any recommendations please let me know. I really am as clueless about sewing as is humanly possible.
Life is good and I still have the same dream that Ive had since forever and that is to have my own exhibition oneday. It would be just about the most amazing thing that could happen for me, and sharing my happiness with friends and family would be absolutely fanbloomintastic.
The picture is of Ted Hughes Birthday Letters. I rediscovered it at my mums place after getting it when studying English Lit at Goldsmiths College in London. I couldnt quite believe how stunning the poems are and yet it was there in a bookshelf collecting dust. It got me brimming with ideas for future poems and just so happy to experience beauty after initially finding it difficult to unravel. A poem is like the perfect gift. The surprise gets better over time. The same could be said about a work of art too.
Anyway, thats enough of my rambling. I have an important thing called Jaws to watch on the telly as we speak.