Move slower, search for the things that fall between the cracks.

I enjoyed making these a couple of weeks ago. I was going to attempt a collage a day but somehow I always end up distracted, lose my way or simply life takes over. However, I am committing to getting stuff off my phone and stored into this space as somehow it makes it real then. Again, there's something about the immediacy of 'Stories' on Instagram that allows me to be more spontaneous, I'm able to hit a button and not overthink a little bit of doodling. Oh, for spontaneity and not overthinking, everyday, forever and ever. And ever. 

Scraps and notes and scribbles - journalling stories.

So, nearly two weeks ago it was my older sister's birthday. In my usual fashion, I had a birthday card sat on my bedside table for her but never actually got round to sending it to her on time. This meant that the night before her birthday, I pulled out the family heirloom photo albums and took some shots of the photos in bad lighting, late at night in order to send a makeshift card that would, hopefully, make her smile and distract her from how disorganised and rubbish I am as a little sister. Now, I am no photographer, I say this not to be self deprecatory but because it's just not a strength and so something like 'Stories' on Instagram totally appeals to my love of the simple, my love of low fi. It allows me to feel like I'm scrap booking or journalling without having to find scissors and glue or a bunch of different coloured pens with different thicknesses of nib (which is sometimes a tall order). So these are the results. I know the framing is off and the size is odd but I like that it was quick and I didn't get bogged down in the whole 'why are everyone else's photos on IG so amazing and mine are ALWAYS blurred' and more importantly, it took me back to the good old days of daily journalling with pictures, words, photographs and found images etc which is where my heart lies.

Last week-end we took my mum out for breakfast and a catch up as we hadn't seen her for two weeks and she'd returned from visiting my sister in Nottingham. We found a place in Knowle that sold pancakes which was perfect for the boys on the rainiest of rainy saturday mornings. This picture, even though my husband and mum are not pictured in it, reminds me of the car journey. For some reason, my mum likes to direct my husband in the car even though she doesn't drive and despite my husband trying to quietly reassure her that he doesn't need the guidance. It makes for a little tension that also makes me want to laugh out loud, kinda. I have never mentioned it to anyone and so feel a little naughty mentioning it here but hey, this is real life with all the nuances and complexities of family and it's one of the advantages of having so few people following the blog now. I can say a lot more than I might have at one time because I'm aware so few are reading it which is both empowering and isolating. I feel a little sad that my very neglected blog now has a very, very limited audience. Mostly a biproduct of choosing not to use Facebook which is where I used to post links to the blog. I'm not keen to re-engage with Facebook but it does present a dilemma because I do want others to read what I write. Any ideas? Food for thought.

We've found a new hipster(ish) cafe that we like a lot in town. We love Digbeth in Birmingham and the cafe is actually in the Custard Factory which is a creative hub for Birmingham's makers and shakers. My husband gets his art work framed by a great framer based there, buys his spray paints from the graf shop there and gets frustrated that the great jeans in the skate shop never do his size. I've had lovely bespoke necklaces bought for me from indie stores based there and there's a great feel to the place. We like to park up locally in Digbeth and have a good walk around, looking for new graf and new eateries as things tend to close and other things re-open in their place pretty frequently. 

My eldest boy has really got into making music more recently, using samples and Garage Band. We had loads of fun the other day when he asked me to record a vocal for the chorus of his track. It felt a little bit special that he acknowledged something that he knows I love to do and that I don't do nearly enough of, he's sensitive and a sweetheart in that way. I loved collaborating with him. We still do battle over his guitar practice, he plays classical. He's far exceeded any capability of mine or his fathers as far as playing a traditional instrument,  particularly as he reads music, something which neither of us can do and which I for one would love to be able to do. I keep reminding him that the lectures from me to practice, come from knowing that the future will only bring more commitments and time constraints, so please, please please do this hard stuff now and not later - said all parents and previous generations everywhere! My twelve and a half year old is changing by the day. This new phase is moving so quickly and I can hear the jubilant chorus and testing cries of all those that have gone before, I see my errors and parenting fails and there are the highs and joys and trials and feeling ways, the feeling so, so many ways about stuff all at once. One of the reasons I stopped blogging was because so much of what I talked about was my children and I wondered if it was fair to air so much about their lives here, although I always check with them before posting content that relates to them. Somehow though, I feel compelled to come back to that, to document this next chapter because I know I certainly won't remember it all. For today it feels ok and so for now perhaps that's what's right. These things too change daily and by the minute. Feels good to write and talk and say and lay it all out. It makes more sense of it all.

Cut Stories

I cut stories to make sense of my fingers and my thoughts and to find a place where they can play together, be together. I cut stories out of nothing, scraps and throw aways, keepsakes and papers and things collected over the years. Sometimes they come and then I don't like them, so they are torn and crumpled and weathered and scratched until I like what I see and sometimes, that just never happens. I cut stories so that I don't have to make any up or speak of any, I can just cut and stick and think endless thoughts. I can keep an eye on Mike Tyson v Evander Holyfield and one eye on the cream like acrylic that I smear to conceal and scratch to reveal. And when you watch boxing whilst cutting stories, before you know it you're speaking in rhymes like you're Cassius Clay on a fine, fine day and that's why I'm trying to cut a story each day. So here are days one, two, three and four, and maybe, just maybe if I keep the mood there'll be more. 

* For Lydia, who pulled a dying insect from my vaseline covered lips and pointed out the dry white acrylic patch on my wrist that I'd missed when cleaning up before the school run, and for prompting me to blog instead of just thinking about it!

Read between the lines ...

Sometimes I feel almost afraid to admit how much I like being alone. Today I sat alone alone at my desk and painted her, mostly in silence. Every now and then I sang to myself. As I sat painting her, I began thinking of the veranda at Aunty Adelaide's house. The white washed clay pots spilling with aloe vera, the blue painted metal gate banging open and shut like a clock on the hour and half hour as the household goes about their chores. Aunty Adelaide threading beads and making jewellery whilst Uncle Andrew fixes old cameras and electric shavers and radios with tools like an unravelled paper clip. I hear the lady banging on the gate ready to sell fresh fish from a recent catch having walked the five minute journey from the beach at the end of the road. I stir myself out of my daydream by gazing intensely at my hands as I draw and work the paint, my hands are growing to be like my dads I think to myself. I take a little time to look at them in detail, my eyes burning as they take in every line and flaw, every pattern and hue. When I was a young girl I would look at my hands in this way whenever I thought about spontaneous combustion or when the thought entered my head that I might not be me. Have you ever experienced that? I worried sometimes that I was a girl playing me and that she had fooled me into thinking I was the real me when all along the real me was elsewhere ... I could never verbalize this at the time. I could only say to my sister, 'do you ever feel like you're not real?' She would reply 'don't be stupid!' 

I haven't wanted to come here. Instead I have been writing in notebooks and sketchbooks. Drawing. Collaging. Watching my favourite films, research of course. I have been mulling over some changes happening that are not of my doing or decision making or indeed happening to me but ones that none the less impact on me and my troupe. I have been letting go of my disappointment at how someone treated a person dear to me, I have tossed and turned a few nights battling that one out of my system. I don't like it when your head says 'let go' and your heart says 'cry'. Okay I'm lying, I was feeling way more feisty, my heart actually said 'kill'! It was not a sadness I felt as much as a low growl coming from deep within. It did not linger though I am happy to say once I read the words 'let your light shine on others', after all I much prefer light to darkness and shining brightly is what I aspire to.

Oh, I must add that this week I watched a seven year old blush when talking about a girl. Yes. It is true. I smiled and watched him move one small notch along the conveyor belt, you know, the one moving away from me. He says that 'she is actually quite annoying' and so hubby and I smiled at one another, then stifled our laughter. 'She always asks people if they've farted, she even asks me'. So I responded 'well if she's so bothered about it, maybe it's because she's the one that farted!' Oh how he laughed, me too! One down, however many girls in the future to go ... this mama ain't going quietly, nah ah. 

A change is as good as a rest ...

Yesterday I had a mummy day off mid week. Yes I know, crazy stuff right? My wonderful mother agreed to take over my school runs so that I could take off for the day to visit my lovely sister-in-law and my five week old niece Essie (plus the rest of the brood). I love travelling on the train. I really love travelling alone. Plus I really, really enjoyed reading a book. I have been struggling to re-engage with reading for a long time, not helped by my Instagram and Pinterest and general iphone fiddling obsession. My attention span is officially zero and I can no longer blame breastfeeding or sleep deprivation, it is now quite simply lack of practice. So I promised myself on my journey to and from Liverpool that I would not fiddle with my iphone and people I did not, I just read and it was bliss. It would be the norm for me to pick a biography or autobiography but my dear friend Legsley (cake maker extraordinaire) bought me a wonderful set of books for my birthday in March that I am only now delving into. I would of course mention which set of books they are, however as a recovering reader I am still quite slow and I fear some spoil sport revealing endings and so for now, my lips are sealed!

Today I have been making cards. I am beginning to build up stock of both canvases and cards and will be looking at outlets for selling these. It's time for me to be a little more ambitious I think. Whilst sitting at my desk card making today, I quietly reminisced about my time spent with my sis and brother-in-law yesterday which was delightful! They took me for a fabulous moroccan meal and it was so much fun all three of us digging into our sharing plates, laughing and catching up. It was with great delight also that I, a very proud Aunty, rocked my little Essie to soothe her whilst her mum and dad ate their meal -whilst still hot, as I remembered all those cold meals and interrupted meals from years gone by with my own little ones. I also thought today of my brother-in-laws gripping and hilarious story describing his friendship with someone from his uni days many years ago, someone edgy and possibly psychotic that my dear brother-in-law hung out with as if all was well! (my b-i-l is one of those great 'calm' people!) This story began as I stepped into the car when brother-in-law picked me up from the station, it continued through our ten minute journey and into the time it took for him to make me a cup of tea. He is a very funny guy and a great storyteller and he really made me laugh! I feel giggly whenever I think about it! Then there was my lovely sis who it was just so lovely to see looking so happy with her longed for fourth child, looking utterly devoted and stunning and 'yummy mummy-ish'! I got to see  Essie's older siblings, my beautiful nephew and two nieces and had a wonderful walk home from school with them. My heart flutters as I remember the girls taking my hand in theirs so we could walk along hand in hand, it flutters again when I think of the flower and bud that they picked for me that I admired later on my train journey when I found them in my coat pocket! I've thought of my brilliant nephew and his giggling triumph at managing to attach some green foliage as an appendage to my backside unbeknownst to me! I love that boy, just my kind of humour! As if this family enrichment was not enough, when I returned home at 8pm I snuck upstairs to those boys of mine who had already been tucked up in bed for half an hour, the welcome I received was one of pure love, deep and unconditional! Radiant smiles, big big squeezes and high pitched exclamations of 'Mama'. It had been exactly 12 hours since I had seen them last and that on a school day is virtually unheard of which is why their welcome came with an urgency that implied a separation that was much greater. 

I have been thinking about family a lot today. I had my eldest sister on my mind, we have been trying to find a window to meet up for about three weeks, unsuccessfully until today. How strange it is when life becomes so busy that to see your sibling who lives in the same area as you becomes a struggle, you know between work and school runs and shifts and play dates and all of that stuff we end up doing. When we were kids we always talked about how we would see each other all of the time, that we would live near. Never would we have guessed that it would be so much more complicated. I sat staring at my big sis today, proudly admiring how beautiful she is. Staring in wonder at that pregnancy glow and that beautiful, brown swollen belly of hers ... the one that looks so much as my own did. I smile at seeing this pregnancy mirror and finally understand all the heightened emotions that used to fall from her when she she was witnessing my pregnancies. Family is so complex, with one feeling so much part and apart at times and sometimes all at once. However, today's reflection is one of gratitude for my loved ones, one of feeling blessed for feeling very much part of a great and complex family.

My bro & sis-in-law,  bit of a blurry shot but they're so cute I had to add it!

It's all part of the journey ...

My non-functional desk

Last week I was feeling really fed up that my desk 'work space' had become a dumping ground, see picture above. It is a by product of trying to squeeze in making bits and bobs into unrealistic time slots and hence when I have to clear away or leave things to dry or gather my itty bitty stamps and various papers. When my time is up, I finally have to surrender and just fling all of that stuff onto my desk - the only safe place for it to go away from little hands and away from spaces that have another function ie our dinner table. 

The desk in its state pictured above was not inspiring me to work as I knew I needed to have a sort out before even getting down to work, probably leaving me an hour maximum to be creative! So, the desk remained like this for another couple of days until a dear friend of mine sent me a message reminding me that she had commissioned a piece of work from me that she needed in a couple of days for a gift. She generously gave me the option to have more time to work on a piece but suddenly my heart began pounding with excitement at the challenge of a deadline. I love a deadline! I love it in as much as it motivates me to get the job done, no hesitation, no excuses. I am in a constant state of forgetting and then remembering that this is how I thrive, I thrive with a deadline in place. It is a useful thing to know about myself, so why do I forget this? 

Anyway, knowing that my dear friend would be coming over at lunch time on friday, on thursday night last week I packed the kids off to bed and set to work. The photograph below was taken at 23.51 hours just as I was calling it a night, hence the poor light. I was tired but so happy to be ending my day having made something new plus the process was so effortless and enjoyable, sometimes doing is so much better than thinking. It also really helps to have beautiful people in your life who place value on what you do and what you make, I am forever grateful for these gifts.

This is what things looked like at 23.51

Mixed -Media on A3 size canvas

Confession: Sometimes I don't think it's enough to just make pretty things.

This week I've been trying to break out of my easy come, easy go pattern of creating images solely using scraps of paper and a glue stick, I've been trying to remember how to experiment. You know, that process where you start to like something that's developing but if there's the slightest hesitation you paint/draw/wipe/stick over it. This used to be a process that I used commonly and instinctively but space and time and a lack of habit have meant it feels like more effort than I would like it to be. So, experiment is what I did with my itty bitty bits of time this week. I'm currently working on A4 size canvas but I've bought some A2 and larger that I'm looking forward to using too. I found some work from my last 'experiment' featured in this post and want to do more of it, I may just get back to my norm of A1 paper for some oil stick and pencil on paper fun. Susie Sue -Series Two has also been playing on my mind lately, it's exciting to think of her once more! Another confession: I feel quite smug that in spite of a very busy week, I have managed to make something new ... even if it is a little bit pretty.

Hanging my canvases around the house at the moment.

I must remember that I like working on several pieces at a time.

Everything takes forever to finish .....