I am wondering what I should have prepared for work tomorrow morning, my work laundry is churning its (noisy) way through the all-purpose 40 degree wash cycle as I type and a Sunday Night London R'n'B music programme is blasting out of the radio behind me.
I am in the second half of my 30s and I feel like I should be stapled to my chair, doing maths homework or something. Ngg - does anyone else suffer from this Sunday evening feeling?!
All but the final sleeve (half done) of the shaped lace tee is being blocked on the bed in my spare room this evening - I am so close to finishing the first ever garment I have knitted for myself, I can smell it!
However, I have my fingers crossed optimistically as I have modified the sleeve, then followed the errata instructions for its top shaping from the errata posted at the Knitting Lingerie Style Along...and it looks a bit too big to be set into the body. Hmm.
The majority of opinion so far is that I should opt for the crystal, twinkly beads - most effective (not shown here). I tend to agree.
I am just fighting my natural inclination to go for the beads that I personally find most sympathetic. Even though I acknowledge that they won't be nearly as effective as the twinkly ones. Damn, opps, I think that I just disappeared up my own backside?!
Initially, I was delighted that there was a Henry Moore exhibition going on - I was optimistic that I would experience both a coffee and a cultural experience. I know Henry Moore's work and I understand his ideas (in the main, I think). I appreciate the strong spacial quality of his work - I do. However, I took a few photos and I was abruptly reminded why I have not ever liked his work. I cannot help it - I just don't.
My father, assessed my nephew's humour and suggested that I might need to walk around the rest of the exhibition on my own. I suggested that accompanying my nephew to the newsagents in order to get a Thomas the Tank Engine comic was a far higher priority!
I am sure that you will be scandalised. I am sorry, I tried but I cannot help it - this stuff just leaves me cold. Utterly and totally cold - I tried. Honest.
My father and I stopped by the pod thing (see picture with lake backdrop). I commented quietly that I used to make and bring that type of thing home with me from college. (I used to site my artistic endeavours around my parent's garden in an amateur display of 'Undergraduate Garden Art'.)
My father chuckled, "How funny you should mention that. Your stepmother set about this big, overgrown bush in the garden this summer and once she'd fought off over 10 years growth, we all stood round it and said, What's that?! Then, following much debate, Oh look....it's Gabrielle's shell."
Hmm. Now, I didn't spot it out in the garden when I was at my parent's house earlier today. It is my guess that this artist's early work was quietly deposited in the bin after its summer rediscovery?
I might be doing my parents a disservice but who could blame them for feeling that 20+ years is sufficient to demonstrate familial loyality to a piece of garden art they were probably relieved disappeared into the undergrowth as the years wore on, obliterating itself from collective family memory? Particularly as I have not continued to make my way in the world as any type of serious, full time artist.
Damn - bet that never happened to Henry Moore though - bah humbug!