What do these shapes mean

This week saw a return to business as usual after the delightful visit from my neice. I returned to my studio routine and my job. 

I did still manage a bit of fun last weekend. I enjoyed a coffee meet up and some hyper local charity shopping with a pal last Saturday and then on Sunday another pal and I went to see the Phoebe Anna Traquair Murals. We also popped into a few other fringe art offerings, a lovely cafe, and a graveyard - so that's a great time in my book! I have seen the murals several times now but it was a treat to take our time and to really look at them. 

I painted a small painting (above). It is odd but has something I like about it. It doesn't exactly sit in the small series I have been working on but that's okay. 

I also finished a book I picked up in our local charity bookshop while browsing last week. I really enjoyed Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. I see it has been made into a film. I watched the trailer after I finished the book and I am glad I read the book first. I will definitely read more of Ishiguro's work. I am unsure how I missed him all these years - after all he wrote The Remains of the Day. Klara and the Sun is beautiful, moving, and very timely. 

Things cross your path when they are meant to I guess. 

That's all I have for you just now as I have a busy day ahead tomorrow. 

I hope you are well, happy, and inspired wherever you are. And if not, tomorrow is another day. Keep fighting! 

Joy is resistance

You know what's cool? Walking down a road you've never been on with your pal, then standing with your backs against a wall in the winter sun. I’ve done this twice lately and highly recommend it. If you joke that you both look like members of an '80s band and share a laugh, it’s even better.

Julia and I have been roaming the streets again, seeing art, and sitting in coffee shops. We have already seen some great exhibitions this year. This is normally where I would tell you all about them but I cannae be arsed. Go out and see some art wherever you live. 

I will show you one of my new works in progress. I decided to pop it into a frame just to see how it would feel in one, and it seemed to agree with it. I like my frames like I like my art, a bit dirty and damaged. 

In other news, I have been reading books, organising, working, meditating, baking, and learning new ways of being. It's a good way to stay sane when everything is awful and gross. I am also taking action, voting, calling, signing, and joining. Community, community, community - that's where it's at. I hope you are being supported by your community. I hope you are supporting your community. 

Stay free, be well, and stand against walls in the sun. 

I kept all your letters

Sometimes I wonder if I should have a separate place to write things that aren't about art. I wonder if that would make it easier to always write "on time." But then if I was writing somewhere else there would be no exact time to do it and there would be nothing here on "Friday."

So here I am, not exactly wanting to write about art. There are two things I sort of want to write about. The first is that I picked through someone's flat moving remnants outside their building. They were kind enough to take a photo and share it online - a community offering before it would be taken to a charity shop. I picked up 2 bags of castoffs. I took photos of my haul and shared it with friends and family. I tallied up its retail value. I commented that it was obviously the possessions of a much younger woman but with the taste of my inner child. I even took a stack of her hot pink and yellow coloured paperbacks - 8 of them in the pile. And this is maybe where it ventures into art. The concept around methodically reading another person's books, void of choice - like a street assigned reading list.

I get a bit excited by limitations.

I get overwhelmed by all the choices at the grocery store or in shops. But, I love the treasures left on the street or in the racks of the charity shop. I love the fated aspect of it. I usually find exactly what I need and when I need it. I needed a boost and I got a second Christmas from her leaving offerings, complete with mustard yellow low top Converse All Stars exactly in my size. She wrote on the toes of both shoes, "life's too short to waste" in black pen. 

I noticed the faded mantra the next day. 

I feel like I have wasted my fair share of life but I also feel we are probably meant to or maybe there is no way to actually waste it. I hope that's the case. However it all works out, I was glad to receive her message.

So I am reading her books and living with her things and wishing her well on her move. 

The second thing I sort of wanted to write about was some local genealogy research I have been doing but I can't write about it poetically. Genealogy is mostly frustrating, with flashes of magic here and there - stories and family ghosts pulling me along into a puzzle of history and dumb luck. An hour becomes a whole day and I can't look away. It all points back to the tip of my new shoes. Am I wasting my life? Surely not.

I like to think the ancient family knows I am looking for them and that they are glad I am here. They are as curious about me as I am of them. 

They whisper, there is art in all of this.