#849 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn art, work1 Comment

This was a late commission for a retirement party. About 24 hours. I was also invited to the party so there was a personal scrubbing-up deadline to be met. The party was for a work colleague in a workplace that I had left a while ago. It was a fabulous lunchtime gathering of people that I had worked with in fairly intense situations, and it was such a pleasure to see them all again, because they were all people that I trusted when the going got tough. When we worked together, just seeing them pile in as a part of a small on-call team was a real pleasure because there were no egos in the room. Now before you all think. ‘ No workplace is that perfect’ I would agree wholeheartedly. But yesterday the people who make work life difficult were not at the table. And that was the point of the commission. The colleague who retired had a secret code at workplace social gatherings if she was bored or someone was being a twat. She would ask the colleague who commissioned the painting a seemingly random question. A sign that they should try to extricate themselves. Not exactly a ‘safe’ word but a sentence that could make or break an evening out. The sentence is hidden in the painting.

No-one mentioned canoes yesterday so that is a sign of a great gathering. 

A ponder came from yesterday.

Wouldn’t work be fab if all the lovely people worked together and the twats just pissed each other off.

Now I am a team of one how do I know I am ‘team lovely` I could be ‘team twat’

P.s I am not used to delivering paintings when the paint is still wet. Normally I get the chance to tweak. I see some tweaks but cant nip into the studio. A very odd feeling.

#848 theoldmortuary pondered

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, pondering1 Comment

This is what happened just after I pondered yesterday. A real life ponder, not a blog ponder, although now it is a blog ponder.

After a fairly normal morning routine. Tea, Coffee,blog,Shower,  I hit a conundrum, 45 minutes between shower and a morning dip in the sea. What to wear in that 45 minutes?

While I sorted out my after-swim attire Hugo took himself into the folds of the unmade bed. My indecision gave him those moments that he needed to catch up on sleep. Normally we would be out walking but the plan was for his walk to combine with my walk to the beach.

He effortlessly goes from pyjamas to daywear without pondering.

I opted for half putting on my wetsuit,  legs and bum only. Letting the arms and body hang down. A dressing gown completed the ensemble. Of course, someone knocked on the door and of course, as I accepted a parcel my two dangling wetsuit arms pushed themselves out from beneath the dressing gown. Nobody deserves that image etched into their morning routines. Which is why I am just sharing pictures of Hugo. The swim was also completely non-photogenic, wild and wet, rough and bouncy. We congratulated ourselves on how brave we are on these wilder days . Not, I might add, dangerously brave, just cautiously brave. Freshwater rain and seasalty fingers do not combine to take good seascapes.

A cheeky dog in the unmade bed is much more appealing.

#847 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Drawn to the Valley, Drawn To The Valley Artists1 Comment

What makes you most anxious?

I’m not a naturally anxious person, so predicting  anxious feelings  is hard for me. Anxious is the soft and distant relative of anxiety which is an entirely different thing. Anxious moments  are fleeting  but give me a moment to check and reflect on whatever I am about to do. The anxious, anticipatory feeling of butterflies in my belly is one of the great ‘ tingles’ of life. One of the loveliest feelings is the realisation that anxiety was not needed. A sensation that is like seeing the prickles of a horse chestnut, but only experiencing the gorgeous brownness of the conker and the delicate softness of the conker’s bed.  The experience, confidence and reliability of life makes the anxiousness quite unnecessary.

Yesterday I mentally berated myself and was a little anxious for forgetting to publicise a regular artist meet-up. One that I had helped to instigate in the post-lockdown period.  I imagined sitting at a vast table all alone, like billy-no-mates. Just me and my paints for two hours. I needn’t have been anxious. We have been doing this for nearly two years, every second Thursday of the month.  I needn’t have worried at all. As 10 o’clock approached artists started arriving, big bags of creative energy in their arms. The table filled up, three extra tables were needed and even with the extra tables, people were squeezed into almost non-existent gaps. Every surface was littered with creative paraphernalia and the cups and plates of artists needing nibbles.

The vast, industrial-sized space was filled with the noise of people sharing news and knowledge. Some people never even manage to unpack their projects because the talking and exchanging of ideas becomes the most important thing to do.

My little moment of anxiousness was quite unnecessary. As it usually is.

#846 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Drawn to the ValleyLeave a comment

Framing day. One done and four more to go. This one took more than an hour, little bits of stuff kept floating onto the mount. Despite doing it on a clean piece of linen. Static is the work of the devil and it makes me huff .

These end bits of arty admin are not my favourite part of the process. In contrast, my morning was spent with 15 other artists drinking coffee and nattering joyfully about their creative  processes.

The texture in the room was gorgeous , enhanced by coffee and cake. Three hours of arty energy and caffeine to power me through the pain of framing.

And then there were 5 framed images.

#845 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn SerendipityLeave a comment

Hitting a deadline early.

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.

Big thanks to Anne Crozier for organising.

@theoldmortuary

#844 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Words2 Comments

I can be a bit grumpy when a word gets misused, literally is one such word which is both over used and inappropriately used at times. It was a surprise to me to find a whole new word this week that sounds the same.

Littoral…

But before I get onto my new word an anecdote about being taken literally.

I had talked to a patient for a little while who was about to have a breast examination. To conclude the chatting part of the appointment I said, while gesticulating to a stool in the corner of the room.

” O.K that’s lovely, if you could just pop your top on there, we can get on”

I gave her a moment while I finished writing my note. When I looked up she was nowhere to be seen.  When I stood up there was an awkward sight.

She had knelt on the floor and arranged her two naked breasts on top of the stool.

Which is a huge amount more interesting than my littoral story.

Which involves a large bug . You can’t possibly know that he was a large bug because I failed to put another object in the photo for scale. He was probably as long as a finger. Google lens tells me he is a Bilge Bug or Sea Slater and he lives in the littoral zone. Bilge bugs live for three years. Every day is literally a school day.

#843 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Interior Design2 Comments

Yesterday the last piece of our accidental style of interior design arrived. We have lived in this house for nearly 3 years. Having designed every inch of the actual Old Mortuary ourselves, it has been a challenge living in a house designed by someone else with the express purpose of selling the house. Obviously their strategy worked, as we bought it . Most of the house was refurbished very sympathetically to its 150 year old bones. The family bathroom, not so much. The bathroom was an industrial fantasy of communal bathing. A grey homage to the interior design of the Starship Enterprise. If the bridge of the Enterprise had a crew bathroom where the crew could go for off duty fun that was exactly our bathroom. The shower and the bath can comfortably hold 4 people.

It has been a head-scratcher of a project, made all the more complex by every house plant we own choosing to live in the bathroom as a reference to death. The plants obviously softened the look but without ripping out everything and starting again we have been a bit lost.

Reading this book was our lightbulb moment.

Beata says that the secret to living in an old house is to represent every era that the house has lived through when you redecorate and redesign.

We replaced the industrial grey flooring with soft green Victorian Tiles. Bought an Art Deco mirror on Facebook Marketplace.

And yesterday took delivery of a Nathan mid-century modern turntable unit , with a drop-down door and sliding-out shelves. Which makes a perfect bathroom cabinet and plant holder. Thanks to ebay and HookeandTaylor.

https://www.instagram.com/stories/hookeandtaylor/3320946114200509313?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igsh=YXF0ZzU4bWI2OTEx

I’m not certain which of these two retro pieces is the game changer for the room but the turntable cabinet warms my heart more than I imagined. My parents were mid-century modern sort of people and owned a whole room of this Nathan furniture. When they died I was not able to house any of it and gave it all to a distant relation. But their love of this furniture and my Dad’s obsession with his record collection and Hi-fi equipment made me know exactly what was needed as a quirky and safe bathroom cabinet. ( We have three grand-daughters for whom the bathroom is their happy place) Nobody under 10 will work out that the door is a drop-down rather than the usual side opening.

No more head scratching for us. The bathroom has a new personality and the plants are very happy.

#842 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Family, Serendipity4 Comments

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.

#841 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Colour4 Comments

In the nineties, I had a colour assessment. It was a nineties thing. The whole experience was really interesting and very positive Fabric swatches of myriads of colour shades were placed on my shoulders along with metallics from the whitest silver to the warmest bronze.

I was assessed to be a Soft Summer person. The experience pushed me to think about the colours I choose to wear. At the time and until fairly recently I wore a uniform for my work so not so many hours in the week to exercise free will.

There was one problem with my assessment. I didn’t feel like a soft summer person. I felt more vivid than that. I don’t remember the other categories but in my own mind I am High Summer with a splash of black. The other problem is that row of blues. Beyond denim and navy I cannot ‘get’ blue and blue does not ‘get’ me. The nineties moved on and the colour swatches slipped to the back of the draw. Out of sight but not out of mind. Until the menopause when my hormones ebbed away and  being vivid faded to black. Which coincidentally was the unofficial uniform of the academic art world I had slipped into.

The nineties are a while ago. Colour assesments are back, in the hands of brilliant young women, and some men who  want to help women and men feel confident in the clothes they wear. Instagram is the place to go for their wisdom and inspiration.

30 years on and the fashion world and me are in a very different place. I always dabbled in the joy of a charity shop find but now second-hand or pre-loved is the way I go for the good of our planet and because it suits my creativity. Less is more.

Which takes me to the question of the day.

Where would you go on a shopping spree?

After 6 years of being hugely more mindful of the planet when buying clothes or decorating my home. I would almost certainly decline the offer of a shopping spree in traditional box-fresh or brand-new environments. A second-hand furniture warehouse or house clearance depot would be my thing or a different town with the best second-hand  shops. An eBay scroll is as close to a giddy shopper as I get Not so much a spree, more of a meander.

No longer in my early thirties, I have embraced Soft Summer. Apart from the blues. I still can’t get on with the blues. Flashed of vivid and black replace the blue line. Soft Summer in the tropics, perhaps. Funny how something I did on a whim 30 years ago has sat in the back of a drawer and the back of my mind, never really a guiding thought,but always right all along. My many fashion faux pas were always off the chart!

Sprees, they are not for me. But a meander, looking for a preloved gem of gorgeousness. That would do very nicely thank you.

#840 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Bobbing, Stonehouse1 Comment

Yesterday was for the greatest part both busy and effective but my painting and printing were off -the- scale awful. Nature showed me how to be creative with beauty and subtlety. For about ten minutes I was treated to an ever changing milky sunset.

Meanwhile one of our occasional bobbers, and other Plymouth singers were in London making a noise

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2024/mar/07/no-drilling-climate-choir-sings-truth-power-parliament?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

It must have been a fabulous time experience to sing in that massive, Gothic space even for just ten minutes. If you read the article the intent is massively important but was achieved in a very eccentrically English way, with Architecture as the code word.

A quirky achievement  to  preserve evenings like this, when life is better than art.