Finding the time... at last

Well, I didn't quite manage to post anything on Sunday. I think I was all out of words. One thing about doing an MA in creative writing is that, well, you do a lot of writing. I sat in front of my computer on Sunday night and just could not conjure up any words to fill the screen, so I thought I'd save it until my batteries had recharged.

Currently I'm sitting in the library at Winchester University. I'm on a computer situated by a long wall of floor to ceiling windows. The playing field is below me to my right. Normally there are groups of students running about, warming up before football or hanging around in the late afternoon sun. Today though, with the clouds hanging so thick and heavy, there's nothing but pink blossom, fallen from the trees that edge it, and scattered over the grass and worn mud.

I love being back at Uni. I get a rush of excitement every time I step in through the doors to the library. It covers 4 floors. My old Uni in Bath consisted of one floor... pretty much one room really. I don't know if it's just a distraction from real life and trying to avoid work but I think I could do this forever.

In my last post I mentioned that I was part of NANAWRIMO. Well, I've not got very far towards the 50,000 words yet. In fact, I've only done just over a thousand. This is mainly to do with finding the time and energy to participate. But, I'm hopeful I'll manage a few more thousand at least...  for now, here's an extract from the story I've started. It's called Spy Game. It's the result of a writing exercise in class. It's aimed at young adults:

      Amber felt stones and flint digging through her jeans and into her knees.
      Her hair was slick with sweat; she could smell the rancid scent of her body beneath her clothes. She trembled; her head a fog of disjointed memories. Her vision was blurred. Figures loomed around her. Voices blared through bad static.
      She could taste blood in her mouth; her hands were numb from the plastic bindings that tied them. She tried to remember where this had all begun.... it had started with ice-cream...and something... something...
       She had been scared.
       But even that feeling was so buried beneath weariness and pain that it no longer seemed to matter.
       In the distance she heard a jumble of click-clack noises. Her heart sped up; she groped her mind for clarity.
        A cacophony of shots.
        Her shoulder exploded with white heat. Her body jerked back. Warmth spread through her and she welcomed it.
        She felt herself hit the ground in a distracted way. The solidness beneath her head was comforting. She could fall no further.
       There was a dizzying brightness above her. The warmth was leaving. Seeping out onto the gravel. She would have smiled, but her mouth could no longer do that. So she closed her eyes and drew in the whiteness and thanked him for peace.

I'll keep you updated on my progress...

And finally...

Meanings to the words from my word collection below:

Jactation - a restless tossing of the body OR to boast and brag

Brobdingnagian - of enormous size

Frabjous - Wonderful, elegant, superb, or delicious.

Hobbledehoy - an awkward, gawky young fellow.

Fossick - to hunt, seek, particularly for an object to make gain (e.g. mining for gold).

Slugabed - One who stays in bed until a late hour; a sluggard.



Bye for now,

rb x

Welcome back

Hello all,

Apologies for my prolonged absence from the world of the blogosphere. I started an MA in Writing for Children in September and have been getting used to being back at Uni again, as well as fitting in work and travelling up to see my new niece... I'm not entirely sure where October went!

To see something of what I've been up to recently, you can visit JennifersJumbles and read about the Live Art Event we were involved in with Poole Lit Fest: The Bookshelf

This month, as well as running a couple of workshops and continuing my MA, I'm also taking part in the NANOWRIMO.  Which should be interesting... I've yet to update my word count but will do so when I have a spare minute.

For now, I'd like to leave you with some words from my collection. If you think you know what they mean, have a guess. All will be revealed on Sunday evening, when I shall also treat you all to a proper post. Until then have fun with working these out:

Jactation

Frabjous

Brobdingnagian

Hobbledehoy

Fossick

Slugabed

Ode to a car...

I was delighted to discover that my post Add Some Music to Your Day actually inspired a wonderful art journaling post by Julie at Copy+Paste. It's great when you manage to inspire someone who inspires you. Then I discovered that through her post about my post, Carmen was also inspired, and then also through Julie's post, SarahLP was inspired to create a wonderful page managing to combine Kirsty's tilt-shift post and Julie's post that was inspired by my post... confused? Well, the point I'm getting at, is how wonderful it feels to be a pebble. Yes, I am the pebble in the pond creating ripples. And isn't that one of the great things about blogging and this strange world of online communities - how people just keep dropping pebbles into a huge cyber pond and the ripples spread and spread and spread.

Well, before I stretch that metaphor too far, I thought it probably time I stepped up to my own challenge and created an art journal or scrap book page featuring song lyrics. My problem was... which lyrics to begin. At first I thought of Blur's Tender: Love is the greatest thing, we have. But I may use that for a different project... and then I considered countless other lyrics all with hidden meanings and twists. But in the end, I went for a straight forward, simple approach: Madness. I like driving in my car... it's not quite a jaguar. 

The reason this lyric won out is because I've been meaning to scrapbook a page for ages now about a most beloved car. My Creature Car, Jason. Yes, that's right, I named my car Jason. He was known as the Creature Car because he was also used as the business car to ferry Jennifer and myself between workshops (and our business is called Creative Creatures). He was beautiful:

I loved Creature Car not only because he looked magical, but because he was the first car me and my boyfriend bought together. He also represented a new stage in my life - freelancing and running workshops. And he had character.

Creature Car drove off to the car park in the sky in May this year. His head gasket having blown for the second time and being, sadly, too expensive to fix. It was like losing a pet. In fact, I quite often consider my cars as pets.

Having a car for me is Freedom. It is independence. It is wonderful. Driving along an empty road with the music loud and any destination before you - utterly brilliant. And I know that cars will come, and cars will go, but for now, please, take a moment to remember magical, faithful, wonderful Jason, Creature Car extraordinaire...

 I wanted my scrapbook page to be about freedom (so the castle in the background kind of suggesting adventures and possibilities). I also wanted the page to be about fun, which is why I included the saucy-lady air freshener. This was our actual air freshener, and I liked it because it was unexpected and it made people laugh. 

The tyre tracks were done by cutting up some ribbon and pasting glossy side down.

 

I wanted the key to look like it had just been thrown down on top of the page because I am notorious for leaving my keys lying haphazardly on tables and shelves and never being able to find them, and the tax disc brought a different colour and shape element in. I also tried cutting up an old MOT certificate to use as background, but the page just became drowned out with stuff, so I left it off.

Finally, I've taken a couple of liberties with the song lyrics. The first being that I changed 'like' to 'love' and then made it past tense. Because, of course, I can no longer drive this particular car.

So, that was fun. What next?

Rb X

The world in tilt-shift

Kirsty from Copy+Paste posted recently about a technique known as 'tilt-shift' that makes the word seem to appear in minature when the technique is applied to photos.

I've got hundreds of photos stored on my computer, all calling out to be tilt-shifted. Once I'd shown my boyfriend Kirsty's post and directed him to the tilt-shift webiste, he spent a very happy hour playing around with our photos and Tilt Shift Maker.

 Visit the copy+paste project for more detailed information. All this post is for is to show off David's own tilt-shift efforts.

If you fancy making your own tilt-shift photos you can do so very easily here. Be warned! It gets addictive!

Add some music to your day...

Music is essential for me to have a good day. If I don't have the radio on at least once during the day then I am more grumpy and pessimistic than usual. But a couple of banging pop tunes or a soulful blues song, or a noisy indie band later and all is right with the world. I think it corrects some hormonal imbalance.

I'm pretty open to most music, as long as it's made with passion and heart and isn't just a tick the boxes formulaic hit the notes sort of the thing. I don't know what my favourite sort of music is. I can listen to good quality country, pop, indie, jazz, blues, folk, rock. I probably don't 'get' dance music or techno music or music that abuses you, or most rap music, but sometimes something crosses over. So what does make good music for me?

Well, I love to dance to music, but I also love to sing along, and I think that one of the most important thing in a good song are strong, lyrics: witty, intelligent, simple, to the point, flowery... I like any of these types as long as they hit the spot.

For me, lyrics don't have to make sense, or tell a story, but they should seem like they do. I'm a huge fan of Sparklehorse and I often have no idea what his songs are about (You are a car, you are a hospital, play good keyboard with horse's teeth, on Saturday...), but they touch something in me and I find them inherently beautiful (Keep all the crows away, keep skinny wolves at bay, with big piles of smiles, may all your days be gold my child). One of my all time favourite Sparklehorse songs is Most Beautiful Widow in Town.

The words are simple but they create such an atmosphere of longing and sadness and even a slight twist of humour. I think it's absolutely beautiful. Anyone who can listen to that song and not be touched by it at all must be made of stone or have ears clogged with sawdust, the lyrics run:

'We were both standing in your mothers living room

Sweating up a storm in that terrible month of June

And the sweat rolled down your cheek and into your mouth

 I knew it must have been a dream

'Cause your mother would never let me in her house.

You are the most beautiful widow.

You are the most beautiful widow.

I bet you are the most beautiful widow in town,'

And that's just the opening verse and chorus.

I also love Sparklehorse's style. His album artworks, his sense of experimentation with his lyrics, his obvious love of language. His music is probably an acquired taste. He plays with his instruments and arrangements, his songs are a mix of electronica, acoustic, rock, folk and pop. He is slightly indefinable, and I like that. I like that he makes you work a little. Have a listen to him - even if you think it's awful, I think you'll agree it's done with love and sensitivity and originality. Sadly, Mark Lincus, the guy behind Sparklehorse, died earlier this year. He shot himself through the heart. I think the music world is a slightly less sparkly place without him. You only have to hear his album titles to get a sense of his uniqueness, they are like poetry in themselves:  

Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot 

Good Morning Spider, 

It's a Wonderful Life,

Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain,

Dark Night of the Soul,

In the Fishtank. 

 Dreamt for Light Years... is probably the most easily accessible album, and a good place to start if you want to get to know him. You can also visit his website: http://www.sparklehorse.com.

I could talk for ages about lyrics and my favourite song writers (Van Morrison, Devendra Banheart, Adem, Blondie... the list would go on and on). But I'm going to end with a small nod at The Smiths who I have only really started appreciating this year. I find their song lyrics so refreshingly simple and direct compared to many other songs. They are blunt and unusual and wonderful. Here's a selection of my favourite. I've deliberately not said which songs they are from, or copied them exactly word for word, but if you'd like to know, then I'll be happy to tell you. I think they stand alone rather well though:

'Punctured bicycle on a hill top, desolate...'

'I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now...'

'How can someone so young, write words so sad?'

'Girlfriend in a coma, I know, I know, it's serious...'

'Shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you'd like to... so ask me ask me ask me, I won't say no, how could I?'

'And if it's not love than it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb that will bring us together.'

What I'd really like to do, if I was slightly less lazy and slightly more talented, is create art journal pages for all these. Maybe I will one day.

Are there any song lyrics that stand out for you? Is there anybody out there who feels compelled or inspired to create some art pages from these lyrics or any others? I'd love to know.

Until then, add some music to your day and see what it inspires you to do...

Rosie

A cherry on top

Well, I was absolutely delighted to be awarded a Cherry on Top award:

Thank you very much Jennifer. I feel very chuffed.

I understand that there are some conditions I need to fulfill to accept it. I need to list three interesting facts about me, post a picture I love and nominate five other blogs for the award. Well, the first two tasks I'll fulfill a little later this week once I have access to my photos and have thought about the facts I'd like to share.

As for the nominations, well I don't follow a very large range of blogs at the moment, and the ones I do, I think already have the award. But I would like to nominate the girls at Copy and Paste Project. I love their blog - a wonderful blend of book love, craft ideas, inspiration, beautiful art and random things. Check them out here if you haven't already.

Rosie x

Revelation...

So, a sweet and short post as I reveal,  as promised, the meanings of the words in my 'word collection'. And congratulations for those of you who already knew one or two of them, please go ahead and enjoy that sensation of being a clever-clogs. Here is illumination:

Sesquipedalians   - multi-syllable words   

Duffifie - to make a bottle 'confess' (that is to lay it on its side until all its contents are drained).


Colus - a whitish beast with a hogs head that drinks through its nostrils.

Quizling     - an enemy/traitor.

Wobble Shop  - illegal intoxicant shop.
    
Spelunking - exploration of caves.

Tchotchke - (pronounced chach-kuh) a trinket/knick knack.

Tyromancy - the divination of the future by reading coagulation of cheese.

Discombobulate - having your composure disturbed, a state of confusion.

Limn - to depict by drawing, to portray in words, describe.   

Obstreperous - noisy and stubbornly defiant, unruly, boisterous.

Bombinate - to buzz, hum.


and finally (and possibly my favourite):


Bibliobibuli - to be drunk on books (a state I often find myself in).

Should you wish to locate a good word of the day generator for yourself (and I highly recommend it), I can heartily suggest wordsmith.org (today's word: Sward), or sign up to a free email service which will send wonderful words into your email box. Go to: http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday  
(today's word: Schlep) and sign up to email or SMS (you'll have to pay for  the first SMS).


Alternatively, become my follower and I'll post a round-up of all the best words once a month.

Enjoy! 

A word a day...

I used to work for an academic publisher in Oxford. Although the job often felt like little more than a glorified admin assistant, I was very lucky to be surrounded by some of the best people I've ever gotten to know. Which is funny to type now because after my first day I returned home to tell my boyfriend that I could never imagine myself making friends with anybody there. How absolutely and fantastically wrong I was about that. 


Not only was this publisher a haven for like minded souls, but it seemed that my own creativity festered well there. It was a long drive in and back and I'd often find my mind just ticking over so that by the time I'd arrived seeds had been planted. As I carried out the tasks of the day those seeds would take root and grow and by lunchtime I was scribbling pages and pages of a story that was playing in my mind. I wrote the first outline of a novel within 3 months. Sure, I've been working on the same novel for three years now, but the essence was conceived and written in the opening months of that job.

As I was clearing out stuff from my desk drawer today I came across a bundled roll of post-it notes. And as I unfurled them a sudden storm of memories swept over me: of cardboard weaponry on rainy days, of surreal conversations over tops of computers, of a time when I my brain was actively engaged in working and talking and dealing with people in a job that, although was mundane, was also somehow in tune with me.

The curly post-it notes were remnants of a whole forest of bizarre words that I used to surround myself with. They would be stuck on my computer, on the grey thin partition around me, on the book shelf, on the filing cabinet. Words plucked from my 'word a day' generator that emailed me every morning at 11am with a new word to learn.

The ones I really liked I wrote out on a post-it and stuck up.  So as I enjoy a satisfying misty eyed rememberance of an easier time, I thought I'd share some of these wonderful words with you.

I've listed them below, but I'll leave their definitions until Friday. Have a guess if you like, but no cheating by googling them - all will be revealed. Of course you may know some of them already - in which case you are allowed to smile smugly and feel superior - I'd never heard of any of them until they bounced into my email all shiny and new. Say them out loud, they bubble in the mouth!

Sesquipedalians       

      Duffifie               Colus

Quizling           Wobble Shop            

Spelunking

Tchotchke         Tyromancy         

Discombobulate

Bibliobibuli        Limn     

Obstreperous   Bombinate

A wall of wonder

As you may be able to see from my header, I have a wall of postcards. I've been thinking a lot about these postcards recently because I had a move about of my study and, as often happens when you start moving things around without planning it out, I became slightly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I have. Trapped, in fact. Trapped by my past but also by all the things that I hoped would be.

I don't know if it's the same for everyone, but for me things take on a life of their own. So, a crappy broken necklace I keep in a box on my desk is forever associated with my brother when we were younger. 

He found it for me up a hill when on french camp. He had an awful time at french camp. He was bullied very badly and was homesick. And yet, he saw a pretty broken necklace on a walk in the rain when he was feeling unhappy and he thought of me and picked it up and brought it back. 

So I can't throw that old broken necklace away because it would be like throwing away that moment. It's silly of course, because it still happened whether or not I have the necklace. But keeping the necklace is proof and it makes me remember. 

Well. I was sitting on my floor surrounded by this kind of clutter. The kind of clutter that to an outsider means nothing. But is in fact steeped in emotions and memories. And I was feeling exasperated. Why keep these things? 

I have boxes and boxes of old letters that I used to receive from my friends. Friends I saw every day, and still wrote to with alarming regularity. These letters are full of nothings. But nothings that are strangely significant and bitter sweet. I hate to think what the ones I wrote in reply are like. I would never like anyone to trawl through them at a later date to assess my psyche or to get an impression of my childhood and teenage years. Angst ridden, delusional and arrogant I suspect they are. My bossy know-it-all younger self can be a cringe worthy memory to revisit at times.

But anyway, to my wall. As I sat there, trying to sort through all the genuine clutter worth keeping and the bits and bobs that weren't, I came across a stash of postcards that I had brought ages ago with the intention of putting up on my wall.

 I love postcards. Postcards of everything. Beautiful postcards, silly postcards, thought provoking postcards, inspirational postcards... if it touches a nerve, or emotion in me, up it goes on the wall. People send them to me, or make them. I buy them at exhibitions I enjoyed, or I collect free ones from cafes.

I can't really remember when this started. I have a feeling that my dear friend Pamela may have helped instigate it, I certainly remember collecting stacks of the free postcards you used to get at cinemas with her. She is also largely responsible for much of my collection, having sent them to me over the years with unerring taste of what I like. I still get a tingle of excitement when I receive a letter from her, just in case she's slipped in a postcard for me. 

It's not just postcards, there are greeting cards, pictures from diaries, or magazines, hand drawn post it notes, photos and even interesting book marks or ticket stubs. They span years as well. Some I have had since I was little, carefully preserved for the time I would have a wall to put them on. Some are from my days at Uni, some are from my times of travelling. Some I love with a strange intensity because they epitomise something special or something I yearn for. Others I have up because I don't understand them, or because they are strange and unusual. But all of them have a story behind them (sometimes literally in the case of those written on and sent by my friend). I am confident that if required I could tell you where I got each and everyone of the cards and pictures on my wall. And why I have kept it. 

So, why do I keep them? Why the fascination with them? 

It's the same reason as I keep clutter. Because I love stories. And I love worlds within worlds. On my wall around me are countless possible stories and worlds. I need only look up and scan the erratic layout of cards to see glimpses of stories, to taste hints of other places, to remember emotions, to get sucked into a daydream. Like putting on a CD, a striking picture can remove me from myself and open up endless possibilities and I think I collect them because the idea of there never being possibilities or opportunities is terrifying for me.

There is so much in this world and there will never be enough time or money to see or experience it all, and this is not a bad thing. I think, with my wall of wonder I am trying to remind myself of this, that there is more to life than this square little room, that there is always something new and interesting to discover. That is wonderful to me. 


Oh, and I did eventually get the study sorted. It's much better now.


Rosie x

A giveaway from my favourite blog

I know I may be a bit biased, but my favourite blog at the moment is Jennifersjumbles. Not least because she's giving away an incredible stash of goodies to celebrate her birthday. I thought she was supposed to be the one receiving presents? 

Well, I enjoy reading her posts too, so it's not all about the paper. And to prove it I'm putting it here on my blog for you all to find out about it and be in with a chance of winning too. 

This is, of course, a wonderfully safe gamble because as yet I don't think anyone is reading this, so it's a win-win situation. I look good and generous without much risk of anyone finding about it, and I also get an entry into the draw to win that coveted stash. Huzzah!

So here's the link and if you follow it from here, leave a comment so I can knock my socks off that someone's reading me.

bye! 

Rosie x

Fossils, flowers and a collage of pictures

I've had the Artist's Way weekly tasks pinned up on my desk this week as a way to urge myself into action. I've been quite excited about these as they involve doing, not just thinking. The ones I've been tackling have been:

• Find 5 pretty/interesting rocks
• Find 5 flowers/leaves
• Create a pictorial collage of your past, present, future and your dreams.

The thinking behind these tasks is all about appreciating yourself, your surroundings, and recovering a wonder and sense of possibility about the world.

For the first task I spent the evening at Kimmeridge Bay. Kimmeridge is a rugged, windswept bay full of smooth clacking pebbles and soft grey sand. The sea is shallow and warm, alive with forests of seaweed and swirling glittering grains of dark sand. I come here not only for the breathtaking views and gothic romance that clings to the cliffs, but also for the fossils and sheer beauty of the rocks. Here are my five finds:

For flowers, I didn't have to look much further than my garden. It's bursting with colour at the moment. From the indulgent red roses, to the sunshine dandelions, it's a kaliedescope of plants bursting into bloom.

The collage was really fun to do. You can see mine below, but first I'd like to share the process with you as I found it uplifting, insipiring and satisfying. Ideal for days when things are getting you down and you need something simple and fun to get you going.

First, arm yourself with at least 10 magazines - any kind of magazines. Don't limit yourself to only what you normally read but pick up free leaflets, or publications that grab your attention becasue of pictures, or colours, or words. The most important thing is that you are going to be ripping them up, so they need to be ones you're not intent on keeping. My stack included old copies of Wanderlust, Muse, Mslexia, Bookseller, Young Writer, National Trust, and Gardners' World.

Once you have your pile, limit yourself to twenty minutes and go through the magazines ripping out pages or images that appeal to you. Maybe you see something that reminds you of your past, or you notice a picture that embodies hopes for the future, or an image that encapsulates now, or maybe you rip out a page that just calls to you for whatever reason.Don't be too choosy, go on instinct, you can always discard later.

After twenty minutes you should have a good stack of images. Now it's time to arrange these in a pattern or an order that you like. Take a couple of sheets of newspaper, a stapler, some glue, sellotape and get to work arranging them. You may like to cut images down neater, and be more choosy about what you include. But try to work quickly, letting your instinct lead you. This is about throwing out a reflection of yourself and your memories and your hopes and dreams - it's not about constructing an artifice.

Once the collage is done, step back and admire. Then hang it somewhere special. Share it with others, or keep it private, whichever you prefer - but use it when you are feeling lost, or down, and it should brighten you, invigorate you and make you smile.

Mine is on the wall of my study. I'm really pleased with it. I love the combination of elements that I recognise as being intrinsic to myself: themes of fantasy, literacy, childhood, travel and exploration, wildlife - all this runs through my blood and is reflected in the images I chose. It reminds me of the colours of my soul whenever I begin to feel a little faded. Here's the finished collage, and some close up details.

My favourite image, without doubt, is the woman about to dive off the rock. It symbolises how I want to be: brave, fearless, bold, bright and daring. plunging into the unknown with a smile on my face.

This is how I aspire to be.









That's all for now. I have a crafty night planned tonight with two of my most favourite people - I can't wait.

Bye for now,

rb x

A date with an artist...

Or rather, an artist's date (see last blog post).

When I talked about this last time, I emphasised how artist's dates are supposed to be for you and for you only (i.e don't bring a friend along). The more I thought about this, the more I felt it was probably aimed more at people who have regular jobs, a family, and basically no time for themselves at all. For me, it's different. I am on my own pretty much all the time. So for my artist date this week, I decided to make a concious effort to surround myself with people.

As proof that the universe supported this decision an old friend of mine who I don't see very much emailed to see if he could stay over as there was a wedding in the area. Normally my defense mechanism would kick in: social interaction is dangerous - avoid! avoid! avoid! But this time, I overruled it and set myself to manual control. Basically, I said 'yes, come and stay.'

As the weekend drew nearer I was plagued with misgivings. I worried we would have nothing to talk about, that there would be awkward silences, that I wouldn't get him off the topic of Playstations and X-boxes. All in vain! In fact we sat up until 2am drinking red wine and talking about books, tv, film, love, relationships, travel... most nourishing for my inner-artist, and my soul. The best bit was a late night text from another friend inviting me to join her for a long walk in the countryside the next day. My friend and I were delighted to accept.

Sunday was sultry and hot and G and I roared off into the Dorset countryside with a picnic in my rucksack, memory card in the camera and a taste for adventure. We arrived in the car park of Badbury rings raring to go.

Badbury rings is a beautiful spot. An old Iron Age fort overlooking Dorset country. The inner sanctum is crowded with beech trees and sun dappled paths. I felt like we were entering a fantasy novel by Charles De Lint, I'm sure if we had waited long enough a spirit guide would have appeared and asked us to choose a path and follow our destiny.

However, we had many miles to tread and so we began the journey proper on a long roman road, the sun high in the sky and feeling like we were in the beginning of the movie 'Stand By Me.'

What followed was one of the best days I've had in a long long long time. We spent a perfect June afternoon bumbling about the countryside. We got lost a little, adventured through fields of barley and fields of 'hmmm - not sure what it is, beans maybe? peas? cabbage?' that grew higher than our heads and were splashed with the red splatter of poppies. We dabbled in streams as clear as air and as cold as ice. We ate lunch in the shade of an old 13th Century church. We followed a river that twisted and turned through meadows rich with flowers and dragonflies and we waded through a river-ford when we realised we'd missed the stile.



We arrived back in Badbury Rings car park just before 5pm and there was a flurry of activity as we all changed in or around the car. It was time to take G to his wedding reception.

The evening was spent getting lost down country lanes, chatting in pubs and politely gate crashing weddings to semi-dance to a fantastic Gypsy Jazz Band.

A wonderful wonderful day.




And yes, I have continued my morning papers. Next post will be revealing some of the tasks I've been working through this week.

For now though, here's a quote to ponder...

"Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know how, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows. We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark."

Until next time,

rb x

Finding my way...

I hate it when I can't sleep. It's not natural for me; sleeping is one of those things that I do best. So, when I can't sleep I know that something's wrong and I need to sort it out. On the occassions it happened when I was younger and less self-concious, I used to write poetry about it. These days everything I do or think or say is tinged with self-doubt and cynicism and the act of writing poetry, or doing any writing that touches to the nerve of me, seems like whiney self-indulgent angst. And yet, I truly believe that self-indulgent whiney angst is necessary in order to function properly. You just have to make sure that you're not letting it take over your life.

I've been thinking a lot about the younger me recently. I feel so souless these days. Everything is an effort or a pretence. I used to be idealistic, optimistic... an absolute believer in the power of dreams and self-belief (although admittedly I still had my gloomy moments).

In a bid to recover a sense of myself and to reawaken the more innocent, earnest me I ordered Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way: A course in discovering and recovering your creative self.

It's a twelve week course that's meant to confront your fears and self-doubts and imbue you with the belief that creativity is a gift that must be nourished (she refers to an inner-artist-child that needs to be allowed to play). There are a couple of rules that have to be followed on the course. The first is the morning pages - you wake up in the morning and you spill everything out of your head and onto three pages. You write, write, write and expunge all that crap and debris that clutters in your head and you start the day afresh.

I cannot stress enough how utterly brilliant this exercise is, and the utterly utterly best thing is that you DO NOT read over what you have written. You put it away and you DO NOT read it. If you read it you are simply imbibing it all over again.

When I did the morning papers the world was a brighter place. Did you notice the past tense? Yes, I am no longer doing them. Why? Because I was embarassed about them. And lazy. Embarassed about taking time out to write down stuff that is cluttering my heart and head. But lazy too. Too lazy to get out of bed 15 minutes earlier to do this one thing that makes me feel so much better. The longer I left it, the more ashamed I grew, until I stopped doing the course. I got up to week 8 and stopped. Why? I want to continue it... I felt it was helping and yet I stopped. Foolish foolish me.

The second rule that you have to keep is the Artist's Date. This is a date you make with yourself where you spend two hours, once a week, 'feeding' the inner-artist-child. Basically, it means you indulge. You do whatever you want, as long as it is something completley for you and your artist. And you do it alone. No combining it with a shopping trip, or picking someone up, or doing a favour for someone else. It is a completely selfish two-hours to spend on yourself and your dreams.

I have done 2 artist's dates in the 8 weeks I've been doing it. For exactly the same reasons as I stopped writing the Morning Pages: I felt embarassed by it. Like I didn't deserve to do them. That somehow letting myself have two hours of fun was wrong. I suppose I should have just made sure that everyone else was getting thier two hours of fun too, and then I wouldn't have felt so guilty. But I wish I had the guts to do them. I wish I had the imagination to think of what I would do if I took myself on an artist date.

So, as I was lying in bed tonight with a hundred million stupid things whirling about my head, fluttering in my chest and making the walls close in tight, I made myself a promise. That I would stop punishing myself for wanting to be something. To let myself enjoy things again. To stop taking life so seriously.

Of course, promises are easy to make in the middle of the night when you can't sleep. They help you pull the duvet up a little higher, roll over and drift off to dreamland. I don't know if I can keep it. I don't know if I care about myself enough to do it. But you have to start somewhere. So I've made a promise and I am deliberately writing it in this rather earnest, embarassing blogpost as a sort of testimony to the earlier me who would have thought nothing of penning a few angst-ridden lines to appease her inner-artist-child.

However, to prove that I am taking this seriously, here is photographic proof that I have done my (very early) morning papers today. Normally I write in a notebook, but the closest thing to hand when I got out of bed was some business stationery. Which worked too.


If I manage to keep this promise, I will make a record of it here. I will write about artist dates, I will discuss exercises that worked, or that didnt' work. I will write up inspirational quotes like a starry-eyed teenager. But I will not write about the Morning Pages. Because that is the other rule about them. Apart from the photo above, which is serving as a sort of pledge, the Morning Papers are never to be shared. They are a release. Release and fly free.

To get us started, here is a quote that I absolutely love. I have written it up and stuck it on my wall. One day it will be in italics at the beginning of a book that I have published. Maybe I will have it in every book I ever publish. But for now, it is here for you to read and ponder:

And with that, I bid you good night and hope to enjoy some carefree slumber.

Rosie x

Friends and weddings

I seem to be at that time of life now where everyone I know is either engaged, married, preganant or already parents. It's weird that these things really do come in batches. Calculating guests for my own weding next year I realised that if everyone brought their children we would have eighteen under 5-year-olds running around. Now, I'm all for having children at weddings, but that's a lot of little people!

However, there are some little ones that I most definitely must have at the wedding. My brother will have a little girl by then and I can't wait to see how mischeivious and cheeky she's going to be, and of course, it wouldn't be the same without Jennifer's little girl. And then there is my little god-daughter. I say god-daughter, but it's not really religious. I suppose I'm more of a guardian to her. David, my fiance, is guardian to her twin brother.

We've just spent a wonderful weekend visiting them, and attending another friend's blessing and wedding party. The day was a classic June afternoon - hot and sultry. My favourite part of the day was spending time with the Applin family. The twins are just so much fun and seem so happy and full of joy.


We got changed at their house and then raced down the M4 to meet up with friends in Reading before catching a taxi to Aldermaston Mill for the wedding blessing. I'd been up the night before making a card for the lovely couple. It was a bit of a last minute affair because I'd completely lost track of the date, but luckily I was able to borrow a red card from Jennifer and then found enough stuff amongst my random stash to create something (it helped that Hobbycraft have been having a sale on the last few times I've been to visit!).

I cut the heart shape out of patterend cardstock and used pop-up foam squares to stick it on. The romance embellishment is from a pack of stickers I let myself buy a few weeks ago.

I managed to find a photo of the two of them together and printed it out. Then I cut out a frame of patterned paper. I didn't have any scalloped shaped-scissors, so did the scalloping with normal scissors, but it worked well because I wanted it to have a rough and handmade feel to it. I'm not keen on everything being perfectly straight and symmetrical. I like a bit of disorder in life!

The one downside was that the ink smudged on the paper tag once it was glued on (you can see it on the top and bottom edges), but apart from that I'm quite pleased with it, and I know that Mr. and Mrs Smith were really touched to have a handmade card (exact words were 'the card is genius', which I'll try not to let go to my head).

It was a good day, and really fantastic to meet up with people I hadn't seen for months. Now it's back to searching for work, filling in application forms and doing the accounts. Oh Joy.

Rosie x

Answers in a blog post...

The wonderful Jennifer's Jumbles tagged me in one of her posts recently, she had some questions which she needed answers to.

I don't normally like these sorts of things as I find it so hard to come up with one answer and then I over-think it all and probably miss the point of it anyway. But, seeing as it was Jennifer doing the asking, I didn't want to let her down, and so here are my answers. And as I was answering hers, I thought I may as well answer the Copy and Paste's questions from their birthday party a few weeks ago.

As suspected I dithered and dallied over the questions and my answers are probably vague and slightly nonsensical. So I don't know what that says about me... that I'm indecisive and fickle, hmm, maybe.

So here goes, Jennifer's first:

1. Do you blog on a laptop or desktop?
Laptop, (I think it's technically known as a notebook). I'd quite like a nice new desktop screen as I end up squinting at my baby one.

2. If someone offered to buy you a plane ticket to visit a country you've never been to before, where would you go? (I'm not offering though - sorry!)
Too many choices!!! Africa, Russia, Japan, Canada, Newfoundland, ANYWHERE!!!

3. What do you most like to cook from scratch?
Prety much everything from cakes to curries. I suppose my favourite cooking is something that is simple and delicious and that I mostly make up as I go along. LIke the other day I threw some asparagus spears, tomatoes, olives and a little white wine into a dish and warmed it in the oven for 15 minutes with some fresh rosemary. Then I served it with salad, potato wedges and sweet chilli chicken kebabs. Delicious. So basically, if I'm cooking, it's starting from scratch. Pizza being the only exception because my bloke tends to buy them. Ready meals, I do not do.

4. Which animated movie is your favourite?
I had to think about this for days and days and have narrowed it down to these: Aladdin and Who Framed Roger Rabbit. But of course there's also Toy Story, Shrek, Lion King... the list is endless. Depends on my mood, and the time of year... and look... next question!

5. What craft project / scrapbook layout etc are you most proud of? (Share a photo if possible!)
I was quite pleased with my party scene (see first post), but I also compeleted a scrap book for my brother as his wedding present, which detailed his relationship with his (now) wife. I was really pleased with that and I know they were touched and I've even seen it on their coffee table and I know they show it off to family and friends. Unfortunately I have no photos, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was brilliant.

6. Do you still have a teddy bear / soft toy that you love? If so what's it's name?
I love all my soft toys and teddy bears. Don't make me choose! Some of them I've had since I was a baby (such as Eeek-eek the mouse and Sarah Snow my rabbit).

7. What's your favourite online store? (Does not need to be craft related but can be!)
Ummmm, I don't know. I don't tend to buy a huge amount online. I suppose the ones I use the most are amazon and ebay.

8. What's your earliest memory?
Ummmm, I don't know. I have lots of memories but no idea how old I was when I had them. One of my most interesting memories, is lying in bed - my dad has just tucked me in and as he goes downstairs I suddenly realise that he carries on existing when I'm not there. I remember trying to imagine him walking down the stairs, lifting the latch to the front room , walking across the living room and sitting down on the sofa next to my mum. It blew my mind to realise that people existed even when I wasn't around!

9. Picnic or posh restaurant - which would you choose right now?
Normally I'd pick a picnic everytime. But actually, right now, this exact moment in time, I would love a fancy restaurant with nice food and lots of wine and candle light and being utterly indulgent.

10. What have you done recently to make someone else feel happy? (Can be as simple as listening when they wanted to talk).
Babysitting!

Phew! You see how dithery I am? Right, now for the Copy and Paste project's fill in the blanks...

1. Everyone knows that I love reading and writing but you'd never guess that I secretly write trashy romance novels when I'm feeling blue.
2. I'm proud to admit that I enjoy eating healthy food but my guilty pleasure is raw cake mix.
   
3. I'm inspired by art and going to new places and it surprises me when other people have no curiosity about the world.
4. I'm always moody but I'm never satisfied.
5. I've got lots of big ideas but I've always wanted success.
6. I tried to live my life through someone else and it didn't make a lot of sense.
7. If I never stop dreaming it will be always interesting.
8. I didn't really know what I was doing and now I still I don't know.
   
9. It's not that I am unhappy. but I'd really rather be somewhere else.
   
10. Doing things makes me smile.
    
11. Someone once told me that I was good at something and then I couldn't stop doing it.
    
12. I'm happy to say that I have no big regrets and even when I am feeling blue I have wonderful people to help me smile again.

Ok, that's me then. Hope you found that interesting. I would reccomend answering some of these yourself. It can be quite revealing.

Now, I'm concious that's there's a lack of visual stimulus on this page, so here's a knight in shining armour that I happened upon in Lulworth Castle to keep you amused until next time.

Bye,

Rosie xx

Playing Mum

Last Monday, my fiance David and I looked after The Cheeky One (my friend Jennifer's little girl). This was so her mum and dad could spend some time alone celebrating their 2nd anniversairy. She came for dinner and stayed the night.

I love it when The Cheeky One comes to stay. I get to play at mum, although I think she thinks of me more as her friend (which is fine by me!). Jennifer and I often have to work at her house, and if The Cheeky One is about she finds it hard to accept that I haven't come around simply to play with her! I used to look after her at least once a week when she was very small, but I don't do that so much anymore, which means that I really relish every opportunity of playing with her. She is such a little character, at times as stroppy as a teenager, and at others so small and little girly that it just melts my heart. When she stays over David and I both play with her and look after her, it's like owning my own small family for a few hours.

This last visit just gone we spent some time painting mugs as a present for mummy and daddy. The Cheeky One had a great time, as you can tell, even though she took it very seriously too.

Afterwards we all went out for a walk in the early evening light. We meandered around the town walls and played for ages amongst a mass of skeleton-dandelions, blowing the seeds away.



At one point The Cheeky One fell over and grazed her nose and head, but after the shock had worn off, and I had wiped her tears away (and David had distracted her with a dandelion), she insisted on contuining the walk and we ran around pretending to be horses.

I think we all had a great evening and following morning, including mum and dad! And as lovely as it had been to have her stay, it was also quite nice being able to hand her back. Cheeky, charming, micheivious and beautiful, but most of all exhausting!

Rosie xx