Phonaphobia----blue ocean

Hoping to tick a few things off my to do list today. The ever present phone, still not working as I have to activate it. phones. Phonaphobia.
Many people to put into my phone. People I will be talking with again and texting. Several phoneless miles.
Fire the weatherman. It's raining. Helpers to come and fix the downed curtain rod today. Talk of finding a two bed flat...help with that. Like this flat so much apart from the lack of an extra bedroom. Nowadays, a living room is considered a bedroom. That's not living. That's existing. What about finding someone to sponsor a studio for me? Art is always is a bit messy. I did some of my best pictures on Drury Lane in the rabbit hole attic propping up a drawing board in bed. That was a distinct lack of space. That was Alice in Wonderland.
ahh. Ben says I so love this sloveen. So happy with his dr. who toy.  Like Christmas.

Blue Ocean

Idea for party game--actually could evolve into a board game: Get some cardboard and make a giant compass with a revolving needle. NSEW. They spin it and it lands on North. Get the giant world map from the shed. Ask them to choose a city that lies north of Brighton.  Name a country East of Switzerland. Name a body of water south of the Pacific. A stack of cards for city or country, continent or body of water. There would be fewer cards for oceans infact body of water could refer to a river, a sea, or an ocean. This game teaches geography and directions. Extra points if you can say something about that country or city. This could be a game that I put forward to the school and present as a workshop. Then the children can make their own compasses. Talk about the history of maps.It could be adapted for each age level. Children could be given homework to investigate the country or city  that they have chosen. They give spoken reports about their topic. Speak about ways of describing a country. The people. Their beliefs, their food, their past times, their topography, things they produce, history. This is a circle cut into a pie. Each section to be filled in with a picture. The internet is a useful resource for finding this information. An aside....create a food or a toy or a figure representing this country. Make a flag. etc.

Art Horse

THe mosaic mural I helped out on had its place. A mum's morning once a week got it done at a rather slow pace and gave us time for chit chat. But being a more serious artist, I found that frustrating sometimes. It's time now. I feel it. To be honest and not whittle away my talent making tissue paper tigers or fiddling around too much with little tea cups. I enjoy being part of that, but it has to have a place not so central to my being. And if I need a social outlet, make it outside that. Three completed collage paintings on canvas in the flat and one I'm working on. And something I'm composing.
Found another wedding ring today on the way back form chat with the magician to make sure he's coming. I passed a gypsy looking man on the road and he followed me then swooped it up just as it caught my gaze. Two rings in one week, the other found on the beach. He let me have it and I gave him a note for it. I left him and crossed the road for a coffee and chatted with a nice girl from Thailand who was studying English. Gave her some links for theatre tickets etc. She knew some Korean and so we brushed up on our Hang guk mal together. Miss those teacher days, but can't resume that. It's time to get on my art horse.

The Inner Island

Making new friends lately, not purely the art crowd. Most are just there to clink glasses. Then again, I've not been out to an opening for a long while now. Making friends in the neighborhood- a coffee with red hair man, a movie and fish fingers with Priscilla- future Texan Princess, a chat on the bench with Sonja who I've always felt had a friendly face and who I find out has been through some of same. She's an artist, rides a bike, and is a single parent just like me. Wondering if she should continue piecing together bits of her life in order to paint or get a gull on full time job. Picking up the slack for seven years on her own, she said she felt last year like a sad cow---like a sand castle being washed away by the tides and waves of her child until she was just sand. Likewise. I'm being my castle further away from the sea so as not to be washed away. And at this age, the child also needs space to splash around....make his own way. And at my age...I feel no age. I feel fine. Making friends is becoming easier since something is loosening its grip. The inner island. I just wish Jerry hadn't thrown me up in the air and dislodged my vertebrae. I'd love to get it back in place.
Things between my mother and I have mended and resolved. Differences have dissolved into acceptance and appreciation. I may have got too much done yesterday. A busy one. Busy = sleep.
The simple to do list is working. There also needs to be times of not doing. I slept well last night. I will get this phone working soon hopefully. Many people have them and many people use them. Six or seven months without a mobile would wipe out most people's social life as it did mine. ...was a choice. Why have a phone if it doesn't ring? But it will ring again and soon. 

Lately

Good days and fine line moments where I have to stop and regroup. Doing less is more. More gets done that way. A restless night on the 30th up until 5am. But otherwise, sleep comes. Staying close to home. Making home into a papanest. Into a palace where I know where everything is. The sewing kit in an old fashioned Singer tin. The tools in a silver box out of reach of thieves. Boards cut up for mosaics. A pleasant worker stopped by today and noticed my art. A conversation. Not just taking pills. A big rotation. Never see the same person twice though there are 14 on the team so soon, someone will come back around. I spoke to the people last time also about my scene on the beach getting Ben's ball out of the river. How a few people applauded and laughed. Then a panic attack. Panic attacks just because strangers might smile at me. It throws me off. Thrown off again today at the service. A deep sweltering sadness. Then moments of clarity and activity. It will take time. A letter of apology to clear the air between me and someone who ignored me and it irked me. I sit on it rather than sending it. I clear my own air. Gone. Much easier to pass. Mum laughing about "Pape and daught" with Taesi and Ann up at a supper club in South Beloit. She is happy, relaxing again, back at home. And now, when we talk, it is much easier for her to picture where I am or what I am doing. That is the gold of her visit. It is real now. Not just pictureless words about where I went or what I did. Her advice is to do less and worry about myself a bit. Treat myself better...have a beer, go out, do some shopping, take some time off, have a bath, put on some makeup, dress up, dress down, chill out. The doctor's advice and hers.
Chicken .....Palace. Road near Elephant. Chicken and Palace are a strange compliment. Chicken Cottage is my local crispy shack. There's chicken shack too. But there is no chicken hotel...chicken motel, chicken river, Not that I'm about to go into the fast food business. There is a distinct lack of fast good food in Holborn. Then again,  there is Itsu sushi and it suffices. I thought I'd lost my camera again. But I haven't. My both zips were open on my bike bag  and I think perhaps a library card and perhaps a credit card are gone. Some thing is missing. Someone is missing too. Hopefully he will be back soon.
A few hours cycling this evening. A mishap. Thought I had dinner party tonight in soho in chinatown, but it is next Sunday. I am off by a week. It is July. I need an Iphone, a new number, and then I can send out the party invitations. Two cakes. Order the cakes. Got the booze. Got the cooler. Need some ham and some crackers and rope for tug of war and the magician...he better call. I meant it. I want a man with chemically altered red hair to perform at my son's party. Yeah. And Saturday, our routine...the cinema, Gulliver, a friendly mum called Priscilla, shopping, a pencil holder, a new datebook, and Queen's Square, a leaflet about boyscouts, a spiritual healing session, a calvin klein boy's shirt stripes like paul smith...some bling. the bling babe. and so a busy day that was ...and yahoo....I've won the tardis playset....for something under 30 pounds when it is 70 in the doc who shop. a win. cutting bamboo for jewelry holiday. cutting up boards for mosaics. drinking more beer. Anchor Steam is agreeable. Henney's cider is agreeable. Leffe is agreeable. Sam Smith reserve cider...agreeable. Prefering white beers, dry ciders, and thicker ales. Watched the bike boys at southbank on the way home and meant to do some beach combing, but not the night for it. 

Long Meal

Nothing like taking a day to make a meal, a long meal. A long day, solstice like. A roast chicken, roast potatoes that ended up as "vichy swah with a twist." as Diana put it. POtatos boiled in French onion soup mix, chili pepper kernels, nutmeg and salt....mushy so took the broken ones and mashed them up with double cream and soft goats cheese spread, milk, then added chopped chives and spring onion soaked in fig vinagrette.
a roast chicken-a stuffing of one slice of seven grain bread soaked in milked, added crushed sliced almonds, lemon peel, crushed garlic. and it was enough. Had some Patisserie Valerie cakes to test out for a party later on this coming month. Selva cake with dark choc, cherries, custardy cream, fresh cream, choc cake...the winner. two gateaus. and green tea in my Belgian China cups from the forties. Some Glastonbury on tv. A catch up with Diana. Mum there grumbling about my fussing over food and plates. Ben away at Tony's. Perfect evening, made better by a late night bike ride down to the Southbank. Meeting some nice fixie folk who admired my Nesquick water bottle holder. chits chats, some beach combing. Found lots of things. Found a bike seat and seat post! found a carry on suitcase on the way home. Score. Love Lee  

Sanity

Feeling better and planning on being less imaginative. 

What Happened?

Well. I woke up around midnight by a shorus of angels telling me I was a bit late for the end of the world, but there was still time...infact, It was going to end at 4:32 in the morning. It got weird. There was a whirlpool. The good angels were going up and the bad angels were going down into hell....and I was on the cusp...I was just holding on...and the good angels said...sorry. I''ll have to see you later. So I concentrated on my pathway to Hell as I was told that this pathway was going to be repeated into eternity. Dark things.

There I thought suddenly because of my very mild protesting, that the FBI and certain government groups had wired my flat and I was under surveillance. I was going down for being wasteful. Accounting for every sin .. INsanity. Then the people from NY were actually members of the KKK and were back...coming back to get me.

It was a bad bleeding fantasy. I imagined that we were going down. Babies that get shaken to death in metal containers. Where it came from, I don't know. But I became the mother of this person.I ran with Ben I told him I'd save him. I wrapped him in a blanket and took him to Tony's first, but there was a weird vibe. Then to. By this time, I was convinced that we were all going to be collected and tortured and then burnt up in smoke. I was trying to hide. It was like the holocaust. The nieghbors. I told them to turn off the tv. They called the school to come and see me. The lady who is the liason officer had a burn on her neck which just added to my idea that she was part of the torture gang.

Then finally I was convinced that this was not the end of the world and infact I was on a Big Brother type game show. I was then lead out in a wheel chair to an ambulance. To a hospital where I was waiting to meet a certain someone.

Something about being transported to the basement of Buckingham Palace. To be interviewed for the purposes of  marrying one of William's friends. But then, I was not accepted and then....they decided that my son was the Prince of Darkness and had to die in order to bring in the new .....new. I was in danger of being gang raped by the policemen in the basement. I kept pleading with him....Please...just kill me gently. Don't hurt me. Just kill me.

The thing is...this man was a police officer in the basement of Euston Hospital and really...all he needed to say was....don't worry. You are in Euston Hospital. But instead, he kept quiet and seemed a little amused by the scenario. Then they said they were going to transport me. I thought I was going to killed en route. But here I am now and I have just had an incredibly intricate night mare.