Wednesday 14 July 2010

Got No Energy And Where's The Blinking Sun? for my website for my other website about Jesus being on the Tube for the A Graceful Death exhibition, paintings from the end of life.  Just back from Milton Manor in Abingdon, Oxford to email me

Yes.  So Where Is This Blinking Sun And Who's Idea Was It To Make It Go Away?

Before I go into how unamused I am, let me transport you back to a weekend when there was some goddam sunshine.  Last weekend where the sun shone all day and night (sort of) and we all were jolly and wearing short sleeves and sun cream.

Outside the A Graceful Death Tea Rooms there were some pretty good artists set up. This is Cressida, with her Dad.  (The blonde pretty one.  I am the one in the green night dress).  Cressida was a very interesting young artist.  She had a distinct style and vision and I responded to her work with pleasure and a deep concern that she didn't let go of her own unique take on the world.  Her Dad was a lovely man, seemed very proud of her.   Cressida's Dad was very taken with A Graceful Death too, and I was grateful.

Well.  I have cleaned the house from top to bottom.  I have cleaned the studio and hoovered it.  I have changed all the sheets and done the washing.  I am now ready for a spell on the hammock and blow me down, God has taken the sun away for some reason or other.  "No," says a celestial voice, "rest is for the wicked.  You are doomed to forever be fussing about when there is sunshine and now that there is none, you are doomed to answer your emails and secure your future."  Well, thank you God.  If the sun does pop out this week, then I will risk my security and future etc and take a cup of tea and a nice detective book into the garden and take to the hammock with a sigh of mutinous pleasure.  (Wouldn't it be funny if I forgot to put "book" in the sentence above.  That would be an afternoon to remember.  What kind of memory is open to debate.)

I have now got a gardener.  He starts tomorrow and what a nice man.  He put a flier through my door and for the first time ever, I called someone from a mail drop.

He is meant to be here because it turns out he has been a grave digger for most of his working life, and has just left a Cemetery as a Head Gardener.  Ho, I said.  Just come and look at this exhibition I have in my studio ....and a great gardening/artistic partnership may be on its way. 

So perhaps if God took away the sun and gave me a grave digger gardener, then I can't really complain.  The grave digging gardener, just for the record, is a happy, smiling, youngish fellow with dimples and the longest eyelashes you can imagine.  I expect you thought I had employed someone who looked like Uncle Festus from the Adams Family, but no.  Not at all.  I have employed a kind of Peter Pan of the Cemetery World.

The Edinburgh Festival is not going ahead for me.  It didn't work out at such short notice this time, but I am very interested to see if I can go next year.  That would be truly wonderful.  Mary Tate, who directs Livewire Theatre Company was very inspirational and extremely kind to see if I could accompany her with A Graceful Death.  With luck, she wants to put AGD on in her home town, and I expect if she does that, she will make it very successful indeed.

One more sunny photo, then I must paint some Angels.  Goddam Gloomy Angels With Coats On.  And Sunglasses In The Bin Because There Is No Sun.  Bah. Humbug. 

A Graceful Death in Milton Manor Tea Rooms Festival Of The Nine Muses last weekend.  Here is the very interesting musician who was very dedicated to his quest to make people feel inspired.  And me.  And the Muppet.  Can you see the rays of sunshine through the window?  Mutter mutter mumble mumble complain complain.

I don't care.  I can go back to bed.  That will be a win win situation and will prove that as ever, I am not to be trifled with.  Night night.

No comments:

Post a Comment