Circles. Sketchbook. Playing

 Still circles. As ever....

The Tate no longer shines for me

 I fear the Tate Modern is losing it's shine. For years and years it's made me happy. Raised my spirits... in a sort of nourishing, sustaining type of way. But this time I just feel a bit flat. Deflated. I adore the building... that has not changed... perhaps I felt that even more strongly than on previous visits. Maybe it's because the anticipation of the building, the space, was so great that the collections could do nothing but leave me feeling frustrated. Maybe I shouldn't have spent so long in the Turbine Hall. But that's the bit that does it for me. Felt a bit cathedral-like with the sun filtering through its vastness. Could have should have stayed there. The sunflower seeds were... er.... intriguing... because of the sheer volume (that thing again about visualising enormous numbers that is still haunting me). How many where there? Quite amazing actually. Beautiful porcelain. I would have loved to kept one. But that's very naughty and I'm very good. Anyway... forced myself to leave the Turbine Hall and head up to the galleries.

 It's not that the work was bad. Or of no significance. It's just that it didn't feel right. The whole point of art is that it touches or affects you in some way. And it just didn't. (Not like the Baltic). The spaces felt crammed. Not used well. I didn't understand the connections. Also too busy. Felt like merely a tourist attraction. I was on a converyer belt being taken from one room to the next. Integrity? Not sure. Won't go back. Life is too short....

Had intented to go to the amazing Saatchi Gallery instead. But it was shut. Grrrrrrrr....

In the Bleak Midwinter

 Traditionally I hate the 2nd of January. National hangover day. Back to work if your not a teacher day. My birthday. Last year I  seriously considered changing it to something more friendly, less hardcore, like the 2nd of July. But no. My mum went through several days of labour and that is when I arrived. Three decades and some ago. So January the 2nd it is. I always plan to do something. So that I can pretend to the world that I'm happy. Having a good time. Pleased that everywhere is closed. Pleased that everyone is broke. On my thirtieth everywhere was really and genuinley closed. I had fish and chips with my nearest and dearest on the dining room floor. Can't quite remember why it was the floor... Anyway. This year, today, somehow went to plan. Was tentatively quite perfect. The Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Again (of course). Nothing had changed. No new works. But that was what made it right. I like that that things change so slowly there. I need the YSP to be constant. I rely on it. The seasons change around the artworks. That's what works for me. Today was about wrapping up warm. Donning wellies. Watching my daughter run with her cousins. Pretending to sound knowledgeble to my brother. Showing off my beloved sculpture park to people I love and willing them to love it too. Today I actually quite liked my stupid birthday...

Just Passing Through on the way to the Bin

Sometimes it goes terribly wrong and gets put straight in the bin. Sometimes it sits around a while before I can allow myself to accept that it's hidious. This is one of those such times. Hidden on a shelf. For a while. Bad. Bad memories associated with when it was made. Needs to go. To the bin for you bad piece of rubbishness. Good riddance.

New beginnings

Hello

Not quite making it to the woods

 

 Didn't get to the woods. I tried. Really tried. But was thwarted. Taking too many photographs. Getting carried away on the way there. My battery died and didn't bring a spare. Stupid girl. The snow was so deep. I was wading up to my thighs. Was only fun for a while. It started getting dark and I'd barely done half a mile. Was on my own and a little afaid of falling over and getting stuck and being eaten by wolves. Or gruffaloes. Gave up and went to look for bread instead. Not in the woods though.



Narnia

Today has felt disjointed. Not right. Like living in one of those dreams in which you are certain you're awake. But then you wake up. It was wrong from the moment I actually did wake. No sounds. Then a bird attempted a tweet. I looked outside to check I was awake. That made it worse. 18 inches of snow changes everything. Literally. It's still autumn. The apple tree two gardens beyond mine has frozen red apples shining out from white. White. Everywhere. Brave orange leaves. White. Wrong. Everything has stopped. Apart from people. Walking down the middle of the main road was the only way to get anywhere. It became a path. Impassable even for sledges. Knee high. Thigh high. Everywhere was new. So beautiful. Still. I traditionally hate snow. But today was magical. Tomorrow it will be intolerable again. Narnia. I did expect Mr Tumnus to turn up at any given point. Might brave the woods tomorrow....or maybe I'll get back to normal and have a little rant about something instead....

Elements: Fire...

Light. Colour. A reminder to myself. That's what it's all about. In my head...Warmth. The best type of company. Stumbling aound with my camera. Happy. Pottering. Blurry. No tripod. Mulled wine. Thank you x