What are your morning rituals? What does the first hour of your day look like?
The first hour of my day looks a lot like the picture above. Until the tea ritual, blog ritual and coffee ritual have been performed. These three regulars can all be compressed into half an hour or extended to an hour and a half. There are side rituals like loading the dishwasher or washing machine. Today in particular I need to be alert to April Fools Day jokes. I am a gullible soul and I have friends who are very adept pranksters. Last year I called at their home on April 1st. As I pulled at their door bell it came off in my hand. I harrumphed at once again being caught out and took their doorbell home with me as a punishment.
Only to discover that I had broken their 100-year-old doorbell mechanism.
Easter morning and the sun wakes us up. Some chocolate eggs have appeared and we have some wallpapering to do. The perfect Easter job with perfect rewards.
A small person will be very happy in her jungle room when she gets back from her holidays.
Taking our rewards as the sun slips away and is replaced by rain. One more day of the Easter holidays to go. Fingers crossed for good weather. But not holding my breath.
Clutching at straws, or in this case, clutching a Pangolin. A couple of things coincided yesterday. This little sleeping Pangolin turned 4 yesterday, I painted him when it was suggested that Pangolins might be the animal that transmitted COVID-19 to humans in a ‘wet’ market in Wuhan. Four years ago this made me a little sad, as I have always liked the idea of a Pangolin. Current thinking is that the virus came from bats via Racoon dogs. I don’t think I would ever have the urge to paint either.
Pangolins sleep in this curled-up way, which I rather like. And gives me the chance to natter on about the circularity of blogging. A friend popped by at the art gallery and talked about blog #858.
Blog #858 mentioned the word camoufleur. My friend is a military historian and said he was surprised to learn the word camoufleur as a profession and then crafted a sentence using the word which suggested that our current government are very good camoufleurs at hiding their lies in plain sight. A much better sentence than I had thought of when writing blog #858*
As it happens I am currently reading a book about our governments response to Covid-19 with particular focus on the NHS. An awful lot of camoufleuring going on.
And that is the circularity of joy that blogging brings me. Sharing the pleasure of a new word over a cup of coffee.
* My rather tortuous sentence using the word camoufleur talked about a designer of abstract exercise leggings camoufleuring the ‘ camels ‘oof” ( It sounds better with a French accent) or manly bulge, which can be distracting in hot yoga classes **
** Hot yoga involves lycra and a lot of sweat in strange places.
Maybe an Easter challenge could be to create a beautiful sentence, Haiku or Limerick using the word camoufleur. Open to all blog readers. I promise to publish the best.
Pangolins have been in 4 blogs. Some readers will get the chance to read all 4 after this. Other platforms see not di helpful. Below is one of them from four years ago.
Two of my favourite things. Spring sunshine and a complicated image. The Thursday before a long weekend is always a little bit exciting. For my art group, it is the final weekend of a very successful exhibition. This is the view from our sales desk. Sunshine and showers, caught in a colourful moment.
Spring really is dragging its heels a bit. Sundays tease us with some sun but then the rain and the greige return. I am lucky that every day I get to visit an art exhibition first thing in the morning. I get to appreciate the dank beauty of a West Country winter by checking out Clare Rogers Dartmoor trees; whilst being grumpy about the misery of a dank spring.
I’ve even made casseroles and meat pies this week like a woman trying to perk up January.
There is a point to my wet weather moaning. I deliberately took a different route home yesterday to maximise walking in less exposed, weather whipped paths . I came to these building works boards and actually read the notice attatched.
Suddenly my grey old day was filled with Razzle Dazzle.
Dazzle paint was developed by the artist Norman Wilkinson and used on ships in the First and Second World Wars to confuse the eyes of the enemy.
Dazzle isn’t camouflage: it was realised very early on that it would be impossible to give a ship one paint scheme that would hide it in all the environments it would sail through. Instead, the geometric shapes made it difficult to visually assess the class, distance, position and movement of ships, thereby making it difficult to Thus the term “Dazzle” or “Razzle Dazzle” was used to target. describe the paint schemes. The marine artist Norman Wilkinson came up with the theory that the appearance of a ship could be altered by painting it in high contrast colours. Angular lines were used to make the work of a range finder difficult.
The dazzle schemes played with light and dark, the concept of countershading being used: parts of the ship that would naturally be shaded- under guns and overhangs – were painted bright white so as to hide the shape of the shadow. The same principle was used in reverse for parts that were usually cast in light. Tops of gun barrels would be painted in darker shades than the bottoms. White was usually used for masts because white would blend in with the sky in many situations. The decks of ships were also painted, to disguise it when the ship was listing heavily. All parts of ships tended to be painted, from funnels to guns to boats.
Dazzle-painted ships constituted the world’s largest public art and design display ever assembled. It’s legacy lives on and around the world Dazzle has been applied to buildings, cars, clothes and shoes, and continues to influence art, design and fashion. Investigations continue as to how Dazzle can be adapted for practical uses in non-military settings.
All fascinating stuff and thrillingly I get to use a new word in my next sentence. Thanks Google.
Norman Wilkinson with Dazzle in hand.
Norman Wilkinson was not just a camoufleur.
He also designed travel posters, which I love
All in all a rainy day with unexpected purpose.
Clare Rogers is exhibiting at Ocean Studios until and including Easter Sunday.
Technology has changed every aspect of my life in millions of different ways for millions of years.
How has technology changed your job?
Any job I do only exists because of technology and is easier than it was last year or even last week because of evolving technology. But as someone who writes or draws I could take a trip to Lake Turkana and use a sharp flake of stone and write or draw on a rock surface just as I would have done 3.3 million years ago. My tech gadget, though is letting me down on this one.
You might not think that a lovely old chair and my favourite type of weather are connected. But they both occupy liminal space in my mind.
Derived from the Latin word “limen” which means “threshold,” liminal space is a concept that may sound unfamiliar, but it’s something you’ve likely experienced in your daily life. Liminal space can best be described as going through a change or going from place to place—from one thing to the next.
I like the weather of May and September. Slightly changeable with the chance of moderate warmth and no need for too many layers of clothing
Perfection would be twenty minutes in a chair like this. With a small mug of black coffee or a cup of tea. Sat at an open french window overlooking the sea or at a garden that is not screaming for attention.
A chair like this in gently warm weather would encourage me to read or listen to the radio or a podcast. Or natter. This is not the time or space for TV or devices.Possibly something gently productive like sketching or crochet. Or maybe I could just be. Twenty minutes of not much in particular.
There was a clear plan this morning, get up, always a great start to the day, walk the dogs, decide which prints would be framed for next week’s exhibition. Then submit them before today’s 5 pm deadline. Write the blog then set about choosing, framing and mounting the other prints that I am exhibiting. This time next week will be a frantic two days of receiving all the work to be exhibited, building, curating and hanging the works that the printers have submitted for exhibition.
The fact that I am at the blog stage of the day before 10 am is both a miracle and rather satisfying.
Focussing the mind was achieved quite unexpectedly at a Gelliprinting workshop yesterday. I had forgotten the pleasure of sitting in a space with other artists all trying to harness the techniques of a particular process.
Covid made online teaching improve exponentially and I have loved being in classes with people from all over the world in a virtual art space. I had also forgotten the value of being in the same space with other artists
I have struggled with Gelli printing at home, everyone online seems slick but my attempts were nowhere near slick. I have been a bit disheartened to be honest. Irritated with the flicky hand dexterity of Youtube demonstrators who produce joyous images, seemingly effortlessly.
Then a friend arranged an informal workshop in a light-filled village hall. 13 of us all failing to completely tame the beast of a gelliplate, but failing together and then lifting each other with tips and advice. A Gelligang, all of us failing a little bit because failure is part of the creative process. The value of failure is harder accept in the echo chamber of our own workspaces at home. But doing it together makes it easier to learn from.
Tea and cake helps too, as does arty natter, especially when it carries on through the cubicle doors of the toilets. Pearls of wisdom from anonymous women as they pee.
My random blogging suits the way I ponder life. Back in January, I followed a challenge to accept a prompt every day and incorporate the prompt into ponderings. Initially, I dreaded the prompts but 31 days of a very dull month, with prompts, taught me a little bit. By using the prompts WordPress shares my blog a little wider than my usual small group of followers. I have since gained a few more. There are prompts available year-round and I suppose I use about 1 a week in ordinary circumstances. So it is unusual for me to use two in a weekend. I was about to ignore this morning’s prompt but it could work on Mother’s Day.
Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.
Congratulations old thing, you made it to 100. 100 years of being an imperfect human, mother, grandmother and friend. Following a delightful female inheritance of not being a stereotypical perfect woman. Sometimes barely even making the grade of ‘ good enough’ which was exactly the standard you set yourself.
Enjoy 100 and beyond, Perfection is over-rated.
Xx
I have two children and three grandchildren. I have been the oldest woman in their maternal line for nearly 30 years. So not just their mum but the oldest woman in their Matriarchy.
Just like beautiful weeds they did just fine, better than fine as we muddled along with no elder wisdom.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers who just make it up as they go.
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