My first flowers

still life in pastel

Okay Okay, I have tried to avoid drawing flowers for many reasons. Firstly, those who know me know my mum paints flowers in her still life arrangements and as if I’m going to enter that world. It would be like cooking for your very first time duck confit to a french chef. So as if. I mean, really, as if, but … I was watching a DVD that you lent me mum and I loved it. It made me think maybe I could give it at least one try.

The other reason I have avoided flowers is because of the greenery. Green happens to be my favourite colour but I’m not a big fan of pastel greens. So of course I can’t stand my greenery. I knew I would struggle there and I did. Fact.

Another fact, I need to buy more pastels, particularly greens and blues. Dark ones. And … I need to learn how to arrange flowers.

Last reason why I have avoided flowers …. it takes too long. Too much detail, too many darks and lights, too many, too many, and not to mention too time consuming. I enjoy drawing, don’t get me wrong but it’s not like I’m an artist, nor a chef. Just a mum who gets sick and tired of saying ‘stop kicking my legs’ every singe time, and I mean every single time, with no exaggeration, none whatsoever, I sit down to eat with my boys.

Well ironically, well not ironically, or perhaps ironic is suitable here, who knows, I now have to think about what to cook for dinner – without greens, and lets hope, enjoyed without kicking legs.

 

 

What’s happening?

I am learning to speak Spanish. Being new to the whole second language thing, I am beginning to learn what ‘loose translation’ really means. Who knew not all words were directly exchanged within two languages?

Logic says I need to have a garage sale. Do I really have to? Can’t be bothered. Requires too much organisation, bleh.

I have a new photo of me that sports a lovely green tinge. Flawlessly green in fact. Just stunning. Normally I wouldn’t care about such things…. Its just, this photo is on my new passport, the very thing that will be my primary form of identification.

Kids have their passports too. Austin charmed the whole post office with his useless efforts of not-smiling at the camera. I couldn’t look anywhere so I wouldn’t encourage him. Simon was laughing, the people in line were smiling but Austin just couldn’t stop his wide smile despite his mothers efforts to instruct him otherwise. A ‘NO PARK’ changed it pretty quick and all of the sudden I became very unpopular with everyone! Go figure.

I will miss my room. My room that witnesses me haphazardly, simultaneously and experimentally doing stuff I love. Is it possible for a heart to literally feel heavy because mine does. The great big windows, ohhh and the light, ohhh and this desk space, ohhhh it’s too much … change of topic please.

I have never been overseas but that is about to change …. Permanently …. Or for about 18 months permanently I mean. We are moving from Australia to Peru. Despite my lamenting and seemingly ungrateful attitude towards this new adventure I am actually looking into adult nappies. Nah, really looking forward to the culture shock, always wanted to know what a freight train would feel like upon impact. Oh I’m just being a dramatist. I am so excited. Like really excited, like I can’t wait excited!!!!!!!! Yes, I’m yelling!!!!!!!! Excited !!!!!!! There should be a singing exclamation mark, one that can be used to indicate that I am singing the words … like …. I’m so excited%%%%%. Work? What about …. I’m so excited”””””””. Better?

Well better get back to varnishing my childhood diary or drawing my nostril or wrapping a room in calico (ah, I’m going to miss my room).

Photo by: Vibe Images

Photo by: Vibe Images

A snapshot of family

There really isn’t anything like family. You either laugh or cry or you cry laughing. Anything in between is boring and plain.

I just spent a week with my parents, sisters and their kids along with my tribe of boys and it was noisy, messy and busy to say the least, however I would have been disappointed if it were anything but absolute chaos.

The numerous bodies floating about the place were only outnumbered by the tea and coffee breaks, art studio sessions and practical jokes. Needless to say, my sister now believes that when I say I am scared of the dark that I am actually scared of the dark. The events that led her to believe this fact is something she still giggles about today apparently.

This very sister spent most of her week walking around shaped like a zombie with arms out stretched before her complete with blank facial expression. Granted she was taking photos on her new phone that include all these groovy effects. You can check them out on her blog here (look at the two most recent posts). I don’t have a cool phone like that but I caught the photography bug nonetheless and pursued the challenge of taking photos on my SLR.

Here’s a snapshot – plural.

Black and white image of a shed

Dad’s shed. I just love the light in this dilapitated building called a shed.

 

Mum's art studio

Mum’s studio

 

Mum

Mum

 

Louise's watercolour painting

Louise’s watercolour station

 

Paintbrushes in studio

Some of Mum’s secret stash

 

Memory lobby

Memory lobby

 

black and white photo

Nephews playing chess

 

black and white photo

Evidence that kids do think

 

The stove that feeds a thousand little mouths - perhaps a slight exaggeration.

The stove that feeds a thousand little mouths – perhaps a slight exaggeration.

 

Dad's pottering around area

Dad’s pottering around area

 

 

Young July 2013-8

Huh?

Huh?

Outside the tool shed next to the vegie garden

Outside the tool shed next to the vegie garden

My room.

I’m pretty tame with my expression when it comes to excitement. I prefer not to look like a 10 year old school girl so I contain it as best I can.

Well not today I haven’t. I have been dancing around my new studio. With the music loud I have been busting some moves. There was the Michelle Pfeiffer at the end of New Years Eve move, the techno jump with arms pumping upwards move and of course the catwalk pretending to be a model move. Pretty embarrassing really but I don’t care and you know why? Because I am excited of course, I thought I made that pretty clear?

I’m excited because I have a studio/study all in one room of my very own and it is beautiful. It has two big windows that frame the afternoon sunlight filtering through the camellia bushes and rose bed before splashing into the room. It is big enough for two huge tables (one of which my clever and practical husband handmade from recycled timber and steel) for both study and art.

I have shelves galore for all my books, folders, papers, pads, pastels, paints and pencils and a dedicated corner for my screens.

There is even a fireplace … uh ha, yes there is, indeed.

I haven’t had my own space since I lived at home with my parents. I almost feel like a school girl again where I would write in my many notebooks, daydream for the sake of daydreaming, write letters, add to my pin board cut-outs of whatever took my fancy and dream of the boy I had the biggest crush on.

I am so much more mature today. At least I hope so because I have children to look after now. In fact, it’s school holidays which means I am with all three of my children 24/7. Imagine one that thinks too much, one that thinks very little and one with chubby cheeks and all three thinking ‘Oh, I haven’t jumped on this spot in my new home, or splattered myself on this one, or somersaulted into this one for that matter. I wonder what this spot would sound like? Hmm, perhaps a faster run-up might produce a greater thump and I had better make sure there is plenty of mud on my shoes’.

Help.

No matter, I have my room. My abode. My home.

Just for me.

I still call it ‘the study’ to cover myself. You see, studio implies I make something or do something that is worthy of a dedicated room devoted to that something and the problem is; I’m still waiting for that something.

No matter, I have my room.

Here is a little tour ..

my studio room

my studio window

my studio things

my studio fireplace

my three boys standing still

my three boys standing still

Sanity …. or lack thereof

I checked with both body and soul and they have concurred – my sanity is missing in action. I am desperately hoping it’s in one of the millions of boxes I packed that are currently heading towards our new home. Yes, we are moving.

In the meantime …. a digression …..

My two eldest boys seem to have contracted a syndrome called, ‘Where did I wee last night?’ The symptoms involve sleepwalking, talking gibberish, wandering from pillar to post inside the house and weeing everywhere but the toilet bowl. Actually, Austin managed to pee on the floor outside the toilet, which is an improvement from Beau who decided to explore the garage and hallway and bedroom wardrobe ….. get the drift?

Last week I woke to ‘Mum …… I’ve woken up and I’m all sticky and wet’. Further investigation revealed a squashed banana in his bed so I will add another symptom – that being, midnight snacks.

I have a hard enough time convincing them to do anything I ask when they are awake. What on earth am I do to about this one?

Buy another set of cleaning gloves it seems.

Back to the move …..

This is a photo I took on my phone while in the car just outside of Emerald QLD.

Emerald QLD landscape photograph

I’m going to miss these colours.

Not just grass clippings of the 21st century

With the digital age, we have the benefit of snap first, think later. As a result we produce enough photos for the delete bin to rival the grass clippings after mowing the lawn on Sunday afternoon.

I thought I would compile some photos that I would either delete into nether-space or something …

So, a day through my lens with snap happy fingers.

Besides, I am learning how to place the photos in tiles, is that the correct word?

Jumping on trampoline photo

Colour_ Colour_-10 Colour_-9 Colour_-7 Colour_-6 Colour_-5 Colour_-4 Colour_-3 photography

As you can see, the tiles didn’t exactly work. Suggestions?

Procrastination can be such a darling thing!

Nope, after I left yesterday I didn’t go and draw. I didn’t listen to my logical side. I just wasn’t feeling logical so I ignored her.

I took photos instead.

Loxley is potty training and yesterday I had him dressed in daggy clothes for this precise reason. In my absent mind I tucked his shirt in his big daggy baggy  shorts and then couldn’t get over just how cute and wonderful and darling he looked. So I had to capture it, you know for nostalgia, and because I’m his mum and that’s what mums’ do.

Well, I am going to share these cutsie photos. Not because I’m a cutsie sort of person, I barely notice a new born is in the room unless it cries, unlike many females with antenna for babies within a one mile radius.

Annndddd …. I’m not sharing them because I am procrastinating either. Nope. I have plenty of other ways to procrastinate thank you very much.

Soooo…. I’m sharing them because it’s my blog and I want to.

And when I say them, I mean photo plural. I simply could not choose.

Loxley

Loxley-2

Loxley-3

Loxley-5

Loxley-6

 

By the way, he is big for his age. He’s only 2 1/2 if you are wondering why I am trying to potty train what looks like a 5 year old.