http://www.jesusonthetube.co.uk/ for my other website about Jesus being on the Tube.
http://www.agracefuldeath.blogspot.com/ for the A Graceful Death exhibition, paintings about the end of life
antonia.rolls1@btinternet.com to email me
Oh But My Nails Are So Red. Like A Lightshow As I Type
20 Year Old Daughter came home last night. "I am," she said on the phone, "depressed and hungry." "Ho," I said, "fancy that." "I will," she said,"be coming home then, right now, to Bognor." "Ho," I said. "Fancy that."
At 7pm I collected my large, tanned, well fed, jolly, bouncy, blonde, six foot daughter from the station. "Huraah!" she chortled. "I have brought my washing to dry in your house!" "Fancy that," I said as we drove the 16 yards from the station to my house.
Well. When 20 Year Old Daughter comes home it is like a party. She is full of fun, wit, life, love and music. She likes, as do all my children, to eat. I prepared what I called a Snack Line and lined up on the kitchen table a row of extremely healthy but substantial foods in saucepans and bowls, so that the three of them (20 Year Old Daughter, Muppet, and 13 Year Old Son) could have an ongoing buffet until dawn if they wanted. Here is the menu from last night's Snack Line. Have a chocolate bar ready while you are reading it in case you get peckish.
Avocardo Pate...Spicy Potato and Courgette Soup...Basmati Rice...Veg Korma...Coleslaw with fresh cabbage from friend's garden and Tons of Toasted Sesame Seeds and Raisins...Veg Kievs (looked in the oven like baby roasting hamsters)...Garlic and Cream Cheese Broad Bean Thing. And, Ryvita, Oatcakes, Pringles. And Crysanthemum Tea care of the Muppet who likes that kind of thing.
We listened to Daughter's latest Reggae collection and that is when I found my nails were red. I have not the faintest recollection of wresting the bright red nail varnish from her as she showed it to us all, and painting all my nails. I am told I did do it though, and I can only put it down to something in my genes wanting to own all things red, coupled with the anaesthetising effects of reggae and an ongoing Snack Line.
Painting. I have so many paintings to do. I can't wait to do them. Some I will finish today, and some I will start on Monday. Some I will start when I get the Cheque. Others I will do because it is for A Graceful Death and since I am getting funding in at last, I can pay myself at least for the materials and time. Phew. At the Arundel shop where I sell things yesterday, I met a lovely old lady who gave me such a useful lecture on How To Display Stuff and then - went ahead and did it for me. Thank you kind Lady, she was absolutely right and I am amazed that if I hadn't gone into the shop to see how things were doing, I may have never met her and benefitted so much from her ideas. Who was she? I don't know. She will, though, go to heaven.
The project on Angels at St Barnabas House Hospice is all going ahead. That is for August, and I am very lucky to be doing it with Stevan Stratford, the extremely talented and empathetic Artist in Residence there. He is a very good artist. I was inspired by him with the first image of one of his paintings that I saw. And he talks sense. Excellent fellow.
So now. I am going to Worthing to collect some painting wood. I am calling all sorts of people today too to Follow Things Up. I am packing to go to Ireland too, because I am taking all my hungry brood of huge Russian Creatures to stay with Dublin Friend and her family in their cottage by the sea. We go every year, and started when I only had two teeny blonde babies. Between us, Dublin Friend and I have added another 3 kiddies to the mix, and have watched them all grow and blossom. Dublin Friend and I celebrate our brief moment of being together by going outside the cottage, in the sand dunes, in our rainproof coats and hats and sitting on sun loungers and eating Cadbury's Milk Chocolate. It is the only way. Dublin Friend's husband mans the doors and tries to stop any kids coming to join us, so we can, for about 1 0 to 15 minutes, chomp and chat uninterrupted like the Adults we Once Were.
We leave at 4.30am tomorrow. Arty Man with Camera and Sound Equipment and Motor Bike will be holding the fort, and maybe, maybe, the Gardener will come and do more in the garden.
I must go and get the wood. My flashing red fingernails are mesmerising me and I may never get off the keyboard and computer because I am hypnotised and lost forever, or at least until the nail varnish starts to peel. And I need to get to Ireland, or Dublin Friend will eat all the chocolate.
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