Failing (by sarah)

I've failed at morning - there is pink tooth paste on our bed and Mary only half dressed in the car for school 🙁 Still I think that is the first proper melt down we have had so far this term with getting ready in the mornings so... getting there - of course Jean has taken the bright turquoise coat to school so I am sure we will be getting a letter or she'll be getting a detention or something about that as she's only allowed black ones :/ To be fair her black one is at the school drying out from yesterday still but she was supposed to take my coat!

My chest is still bad and I've failed to finish decorating the girls rooms. I've now been ill since the 2nd of November and am BORED. Hoping it will sort itself asap.

Yesterday was a System of A Down and Cradle of Filth et al kind of day, Jean came home sans coat and bag as they were too wet and she'd been lent other things in their sted. Which was a relief as I thought she'd gone out in the torrential rain without anything!

Today I wonder if she's remembered her jujitsu bag as she's going straight from school with her friend and I forgot to remind her - I can see the bag from here but that does not mean she hasn't got the trousers and t-shirt with her - the jacket is just too bulky for her to carry in with all her school things.

Maybe I'm letting her down by not sorting it all out, by not driving etc - I hope she is just becoming independent. She's actually pretty epic at organising herself considering she is organising herself and she is mine and Al's daughter and she is only 11.

Rain like this always makes me worry - in 2007 before Gloucester but in Gloucestershire we were flooded and ended up being out of our home for about a year. Rains since have caused issues with the new houses roof etc... and though I know that means it's now a good roof... the fear is there tangled in my brain, if it rains heavy I feel I should go and just check that things aren't flooding - because you know I'd be able to do something about it if it where :/

I'm all mouth ulcery - and run down... thinking it's the aneamia, thinking it's still on running issues of having gotten low levels of gluten etc... over the summer etc... but I don't know.

There are happy things to write about just feeling a little deflated so thought I'd share what was going on. Alaric's new job is great - he's loving it but due to traffic in Cheltenham he is not getting home until gone 7 at night and because he does school run in the mornings he's gone for like 12 hours to do do his 9 hr job. This is the first time I've been on my own on my own in the house everyday since having kids... there has always been a kid about and/or a husband. It's weird because instead of the relief of them having their 2 days in nursery it's like... the house is EMPTY.

I think I'm getting less done but I also think I'm getting more done as I am doing the new rest regime from the doctor to try and get the head bang healing properly.

Tomorrow there is coffee with a friend and at some point I need to go and pick up some bits from another... I have stalls to organise for Salaric Craft and The WigglyPet Press for December and I need to decide weather to shut down my Patreon account due to the fact I think I'm going to end up triple taxed on income that otherwise would be taxed once max.

It's a shame I like the platform... :/

Anyway I will now go and up load pics so I can get back to cutsie blogging and political rants.

A Thing My Mind Dreamscaped (by sarah)

I dreamt there was a group of refugee children and that the local library were trying to do a community bonding thing and so the kids did an appeal for people to come and tell them stories in the library. So I went and they were excited and they were all muslims and a Christian woman had organised it and the Synagogue provided food and I had a book my friends Tanu and Seth had given the girls about Hindu gods as children and so on. I put the book in a box of wonders the children had collected. But I told a verbal story and we ended up being transported by the story to a mountain by a fishing lake, it was a large inland sea with waves, my tale was of a boat filled with mean men who had kid napped a woman because she was supposed to be the most lovely but a storm blew up and the men were scared but the woman took the last fish that they had been saving for their their supper and offered it back to the elements and the storm calmed and they all knew they had done wrong and the woman led them to peace. We then all sang a song about her in a weird mix of fusion music and belly/bolly dance to gypsy fiddle and synth echo electronica under the stars now reflected in a still lake. We were all now standing in the lake - three of the children grew beautiful wings with feathers of different colours. One of the children was somehow my own little girl Mary who had followed me as she loves stories so much. The wings allowed them to breath under water and deflect bullets, each was a different hue and mix of colour, with shimmer, sparkle and glitter - they would help them protect their families and others if they chose. I asked who we were being protected from as we were safe - they told me a war was coming but it was ok because I knew the hand in the tear and I put the fish back and had seen the star light on the cross and the silver circlet and I knew that it was all metaphor and the doing needed doing and love needed to be shown. Then we were in the library and they were all sleepy tired and someone had made me a cup of tea. Probably should add I have a mild fever at the moment but it was too vivid, poinant, scary and lovely not to share.

Before the lens… (by sarah)

There was the brush...

I took a little set of travel water colour paints and a sketch book with me to South Africa, and I painted, generally from memory. I also sketched in pen bits I saw around me especially when the camera kept running out of battary!

Lynn an Lionel's garden or a montage of bits of it anyway 🙂

I know you are all eager to see the photos of penguins and lions but I thought I would share the paintings and the non-annotated pen sketches. Turns out I can't help but keep a field book and I will confess I had to keep reminding myself that correct angle and scales were not needed for photographs either!

Here at least are some paintings of Mary's animal friends 😉

Now I wasn't taking particular care with the paintings, or sketches part of it is trying to over come my fear of being watched when creating art. I loose my ability when I feel I am being scrutanised.

On the plane I looked out of the window and imagined what it was going to be like - I looked at the layered sky and tried to hold the image until we got to the hotel. I also tried to think of what symbolised the journey.

Also I am still learning how to paint water colours - still learning how to paint and draw one handed (though I am determined to get left hand back properly at some point!).

There were lots of plants and flowers and landscapes to paint. Alot just at the house itself.

I found myself thinking of the exquisite pictures that Darwin and other naturalists produce and whilst at Lynn and Lionel's I read a book about whales by artist Noel Ashton. I know I can not produce those sorts of images at least not without taking a long long time on each and then colouring pencils would be my choice. But I wont to learn water colours and I want to get better at live drawing and quick drawing - to get my freedom of the mad dash image back.

I like doing precise things but also to just take the impression and the feel of the thing. I love mucking around with styles and mainly I was aiming to just capture the essence of the day.

The Aquarium offered me birds as well as fish and a rookie mistake with a flat battery and no camera.

I loved the variety of shapes and colours everywhere - I was worried I'd have a large seizure and forget it all, all this wonder so I set about capturing as much of it as I could - I took nearly 2000 photos!!!

Cowfish are yellow by the way but I only had a green pen on me for the sketching. I had a limited pallet with the water colours too but that was fine really.

And of course there are a couple of kids stories I have written which I feel can only be illustrated by a certain style of water colour painting and so I need to learn how to paint that style.

I also wrote a few more whilst out there and had ideas for even more!

Rocks of course feature heavily in the painting, drawings and photography - well I am a geologist by training... love.

This ammonite mug was my favourite coffee mug and was there most of the time I was painting.

This is a cycad or "dinosaur tree" it is not the best but I can tell what it is and I put dots underneath it as we saw many cycads on the day we had our faces painted.

If we ever manage to get back to South Africa - something we would all dearly love then I would also take my sketching pencils and my mapping pens/fine liners (as well as a spare battery for the camera and a back up camera!).

Catching the mood also meant being inspired by the place and one such place was the Redemption Cafe in the Biscuit Mill. I loved the skull prints they had on the walls and it got mixed up with the surfing Jean had done as we talked over lunch.

The image was a montage of thoughts that wanted to be together.

There were things we did not manage to do and see including getting to the Cradle of Mankind and a few more sanctuaries and we hardly touched the museums, galleries or theatre stuff.

Textures can be hard to achieve in water colours I find so I did quiet a bit of experimenting - mainly at the side of the pages but I did do a few pictures that were all about texture.

Some paintings had multiple layers of wet and dry paint which reduced how quickly I could produce the image I wanted.

I painted the mood of sunset below the mountain in front of a wonderful pizza place. But most of the paintings where merges and mixes of what I had seen, I have taken many photos which I plan to paint more detailed and accurate images from now that I am back in the UK.

But I still have a head full of images so am still painting straight from the brain!

I would have liked a chance to find more local literature to read or listen too 🙂 I read most of a collection of Speculative Fiction which contained local authors and will be ordering a copy if I can to finish it.

Even without getting to galleries etc... we saw some amazing artworks but more on them later 🙂

Apocalyptic Politics (by sarah)

Politics and world news is not brilliant at the moment - on seeing that a climate change denier has been appointed to a roll that is ludicrous and in the wake of the Nice attack, the American elections mirroring Stephen Kings The Dead Zone, and how you cook frogs so they are tender - this poem happened in my head. So I am sharing it.

The apocalypse began so slowly
we did not notice it
it was a slow slide
and we thought we were on the upside
Instead we plunged down
And found ourselves at the bottom
of a well of pain.

Dystopia had arrived whilst we slept
Eyes closed to the reality at hand
Televisions glaring
Music blearing
Internets swearing
Masking the sounds of warning
And as we became aware
One at a time
No one would believe our cries
The please
Each of us was afraid and on our own

Tides kept turning
So you were sometimes the good
Sometimes the bad
No one was safe
All and everything the enemy
And the time ticked slowly
Pulling each and every one of us
Down further
Into the mire
Where our feet stuck
Our hearts sunk

Emotions denied
Ripped at the bodies of us
Shredding self and foe alike
The Earth baked and froze
Flooded and crumbled
Useless dust and dank mud
Rotting roots
Blighting leaves
GM could not save us now
masks of annihilation in the crowd

It tore us down
This end of the world
Seeping undetected
Unbidden
but not unwanted
No never that
People crowed for it
in the streets
Washing with blood
Stones that should have been foundations
Sooth sayers entralls
garrotted them all
As they swung from town halls
And winnowing trees

Nothing but skeletal hands
Reached to the sky
Waiting in the half light
Of half lives
Toxic and consumed
Twisted in decadence
Hiding the hunger
Of nutrition and health

Everything decayed
Sprouting moments of agony
The seas over turned
Ice caps melted
Crop fields were salted
By the tears
Everyone was to blame
No one shouldered it
And the world fell
City after town after village
Death consumed them
Ripping flesh from bone
Stringing out the flesh
In sinu-y ribbons
To snag those
Who had managed to hover above

The devastation rose up
Gnawing at the sky
Until it turned black
Burn all the oil
No vaccinations here
Their suffering is not real
Not as real as me and mine
nuke 'em
nuke them all!

And the horizons drew
A line
At the sound of a whip
Super sonic
Boom

It started with small things
The end of the world
Little insignificances
They grew
Each was stoppable
Reversible
Until the tipping point
Cascaded
Medicines stopped working
Or pulled behind the pay walls
Hidden remedies
It began yesterday
It began decades ago
It began with the first thought
It begins tomorrow
It begins right now
It is always happening
Armageddon

That doesn't mean
We should not fight
The hopeless fight
Fight it
In peace and love
For they are our graces
And our only saviours now

Paid-Mockracy (by sarah)

Bricks are being thrown through windows as part of in party fighting, and the leadership contests show us just how bad our democracy is. We need to fix it and not break it further - people are saying they are tired of democracy that they don't want mob rule, well that is an issue with education and access to information not a reason to take votes away. Yes people are actually suggesting IQ test and for people to have to pay to vote so only those "serious" about it can take part.

On top of that we are seeing that those who decide the leaders of our political parties are not the voters, not the supporters but those who have enough money to pay for the right to vote. This is a barrier - this is inequality, it is part of the broken system. I have written this poem as a warning and a reminder of what taking away votes actually means, what happens in countries where that happens. And also that it is not your neighbour who voted different to you that is to blame but our politicians who have mostly slunk off to leave others to sort out the mess.

Paid-Mockracy

Paid-mockracy
Part of the lock and key
Chain and stock
of Slavery
To "counteract" plebiscite democracy
Is this really what you want to see?

An intellectual elite
Is sweet
Like rotting meat
Cos my family are no
dimmer than me
with my degree
I was just lucky
I got to go to university

And that's part of the problem
With no safety net to catch
Futures can be snatched
Pushed back down
Never to bloom
Stunted in the ground
Because its hard
No one hands you
A get out of jail free card
When there's no bank of mum and dad
It doesn't make you bad
but career is a pipe dream
When you are floundering in the stream
Drowning

No buffer to fall back on
Yes if you make it you are strong
But you shouldn't have to be
Exclusion is exclusion
and that is wrong
Like taking the vote
Off of "little scrotes"
Without bothering to ask why
Without checking the stats
On who and how we die
Of socio-economic class
And how getting by
Makes you pass
The chance of better
It's a gamble
Gambling's for tools
When it's not just your future
On the line

You can climb out the poverty pit
Fooled ya!
Can't believe you fell for that shit

So think

When you take the vote away
When you make people pay
That's tyrannies way

Paid-mockracy
Is paid for in blood
Yours and mine
Whilst fat cats dine
On the wine
Of generational wealth
Dynastic stealth
Toast to monarchies health

Violence rocks the boat
Bloated faces gloat
At what they have or have not done
This road is short and a dreadful one
We know the destination
It ends in devastation

Human rights anulled
Sold
To the highest bidder
Who's the winner?
When the masses are sent to war
Because you know who dies?
That's right the poor
In shit and gore

Those with little to loose
Those who don't get to choose
Those powerless against
convincing rouse
Societal's short fuse
Whilst the comfy snooze
And the desperate booze
Their way to an early grave
Which is still later than our young brave

The unknown solider
Who shoulders the blame
Of buildings caved in
Of genocide's sin
Self mutilation
Of nations
Self cannibalism to win

Nothing

Paid-mockracy
Is eating us from within.