irrelevant art

nothing much

all'y'all pop by my nifty guest book at my site (down at the bottom there) and say hello.  it's a source of great excitement for me....    =)

i'm working on a couple new things.  i need some more practice or summat.  the face and the tone.  they are tough to get.  my theme going through the head at the moment is --open to criticism--.   i'm about to make a big inventory increase so i can work on the dimensions that i'm wanting these things to be on, and have less inhibited movement.     it's like the last beer in the fridge.... you always sip much slower and savourly.  the last canvas in the pile always gets reworked and overworked.  the last bit of blue in the tube always gets mixed much thinner... etc.  you know

   

psb is monday.  we even have an official watcher-over-the-kids.  so, leave with a lyric this day.... part of which is the title for one of the paintings that Chris Palmer now has, if he's not chucked it in the bin.... i wish he'd send me a photo of it cos it's one of those that i'd really like to see again.    anyway.....

I can wake up in the morning
and not believe what I see
Look in the mirror
And think if that's really me
I don't think I suit my face
It's not a catastrophe
it's more a philosophy
like the Russians wondering why
we're born under a blue sky
but die in a dark forest

                  from 'happiness is an option'....    monday should be an easy choice.    

it's a sin

it was a struggle.  but i  thought what the bloody hell am i struggling about?  20 years.  20 years i've been listening to the folks... so what's the struggle point?  i bought my tickets for the pet shop boys....   30th October.   

the last time i saw them, folks got EXPELLED.  it was...... a sin.   a couple pals took a weekend at my house... a pleasant respite from the rather 'conservative' boarding school in the schwartzwald....   to see the pet shop boys' 'performance' tour date in zurich, switzerland.  my mum graciously dropped us all off.  it's just a 40 odd minute drive from ours. 

after the lovely show, my dad met us round the back for the silly hyper we-met-the-pet-shop-boys photo session when chris about stepped on my dad's foot, and so forth.  he drove us home and we were all giggly folks.   you know... first time meeting your idols type of thing. 

so we get back to the rather 'conservative' boarding school, and keep all that under pretty tight wraps... big no-no, going to see an "unapproved" show.  (at this particular institution there exists a list compiled by a board who looks at lyrics and such to determine whether or not a cd will be approved to be held by students. of course, this makes for interesting dynamics and new relationships between people and their floor-boards , etc....).    the pet shop boys were not, of course, on this approved list.   so this trip was a very closely held secret amongst us participants.

until.... I was so enthusiastic about the whole affair... probably three or four weeks later.... i wore my t-shirt from the show to school.  the 'dean of students' (in quotes cos that title suggests certain qualities that may not have been present in this case), saw me wearing it under my outer shirt.  by that afternoon, all of the students who came with me had been expelled.  no questions asked, nothing.  obviously everyone knew of our adventure and were just waiting for one of us to slip up.  by inference, these poor buggers were expelled.  a few of them were seniors. 

going to see the pet shop boys.   it's a sin.

but.... chris almost stepped on my dad's foot.

i do have other nifty pet shop boys stories.  i'll wait until next time.  it's the hook to get you all to come back salivating with anticipation...

.....

      

studioley

 

our garage went from this to that in an eight hour overhaul.   the one on the left... if sort of what i'm up to now.   might put something this evening that i'm trying to figure out a bit work-wise.   you can see the initialish bits of it on the 'easel' on the second photo there.         

mancunian lass

mancunian on the tracks

      

All my saints have taken bribes
Singing going going gone
All the angels taken dives
Leaving you the only one

-elbow