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I Have Been To An Arsenal Match And It Was Lucy And Cecil And Olivia's Birthday Weekend.
What, as an Artist, you may say with a sigh, are you doing going out so much? Why, if you have so many paintings to do and so many writings to write, do you keep slapping on the sequins and rushing off to parties and holidays and having Fun?
My answer to this is I Am Only Half Way Through Them All.
In my diary, May has been marked out as Party Month since about February. I have chugged through from January to the middle of April with a dilligence of which you would be proud, but as the final week of April drew near I began to scent the month of May and the parties and weekends away; I began to stand straighter and throw open the windows and gaze at the birds flying high in the sky and say That, pointing at the pigeons and seagulls dancing high above my head, Is Where I Am Going. I meant it poetically, not literally. I wasn't going to dress as a seagull and go to London. I was going to soar above the dreariness of day to day life as an Artist and Mother in Bognor Regis, as does a bird on the wing. I was going to Fly High in May.
So here we are. Two weekends have gone and I have been to Scotland with Alan for the first one, and I have been to London to Cecil's party and Arsenal v Fulham for the second. A quick courtesy visit back home to Bognor, checking that 13 Year Old Son has been fed and someone has provided him with a bed for however many nights (my elderly but graceful 80 Year Old Mother got the job because she knows about Feeding A Man Child), before gearing up for the next Foray into the Wild Blue Yonder, and weekend three will be taking 13 Year Old Son to Dublin for a weekend with my dearest old friend who lives and thrives there married, inevitably, to an Irish man. I have a weekend at home for the fourth weekend but it is not Home Alone. It is filled with Car Boot Sales and Elderly Aunts (no connection) (not selling one at the other) and finally, with a giddy and lightheaded gasp at the finishing post in sight, I am off for the final weekend in May, to Birmingham and Manchester to visit friends and go to a huge fabby festival type 40th birthday party of a Vicar named Rachel.
But, as with all good things, they can become addictive. Within 5 days of returning from Manchester I am going to Oxford with the Glorious Clarissa to check out the venue for the latest A Graceful Death exhibition in July, and the night I come back I have a party in London I have to go to. If I don't I may never ever survive. I think this is how Artists are meant to live.
So. How is the Art coming along. Fine, I say distractedly. Fine - I have finished the Angel Portrait which is very lovely. I am starting the African Ladies for the Surprise Birthday Present tomorrow, and I have been preparing more Angels on Stones for Arundel. I am looking to get an article published, and tomorrow I am attending an End Of Life Seminar that I have been asked to in my capacity as creator of A Graceful Death. There is much droopy and dreary paper work to do concerning funding A Graceful Death which I will do in between putting on the highest heeled party shoes I can find and, not at the same time, rushing to catch the next plane to Abroad.
I did get a nice surprise though today, I was sent a new book from a publisher that uses my Religious Work, because one of my paintings is on the front page, with a lovely write up inside. And Dear Old Dad sent me a copy of his parish magazine that has done a very loving write up of Jesus on the Tube on page 2, but Dad didn't put any postage on the envelope so it has come the Long Way Round to me, and I seem to owe Royal Mail quite a bit of money.
Before I go, I HAVE to tell you that Cecil's 50th Birthday Party on Saturday night in Wimbledon was FAB. Cecil wore the kind of dress you get your bestest friend to spray on you, and she wore it with her typical elegance and sexiness. Her shoes were higher than the Empire State Building and still she danced like Wow! Alan and I stayed with Lovely Lucy and her husband who I will now call Rocking Richard after seeing him dance at Cecil's, because the next day Lucy was taking me (yes, me) to the Arsenal v Fulham match. Bye Bye Football Mad Alan, Lucy and I are just off to the Arsenal v Fulham match. Catch you later (Lucy - did you get the beer and the dictionary of swear words too steamy to print on normal paper? Good, I have 13 Year Old Son's arsenal clothes, so we should fit in).
And because Life In The Fast Lane, where I am at the moment, is so busy and complicated, yesterday, the Arsenal v Fulham day, was not only Lucy's birthday, it was the Incomparable Olivia's birthday too. Oh Heavens we all cry, wiping tears of mirth from our eyes, what kind of life does Antonia live, what with all these Parties and Friends and Things and all Happening At Once too!
So. Excuse me, I have just looked at my watch. In order to be ready for Ireland, I need to finish my Art and look like I am an Artist who has holidays etc in May, not a Party Addict who does a spot of Art when she remembers. And, of course, 13 Year Old Son comes home from school soon followed by the French Student who is almost as hungry as 13 Year Old Son. I have to have a Whole Roasted Ox and Chips ready for them as they come in or they will turn into the Incredible Hulk from Bognor (and France).
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