Pushing an Elephant up the Stairs

I really must get some sleep..

M and I arrived back home about 3am this morning after the best holiday I have ever had! Seriously!  So much to tell, so much to show, so much to share.  But it will all have to wait until I have had just a little more sleep...

Thirteen Things about Francesca's Holiday

1. My youngest daughter and I will be flying out to Kos later today.

2. This will be my first proper holiday for a couple of years.

3. My ex husband is paying for both of us!  My last post explains why. (Thank you, G ~smile~)

4.The decision was made and the holiday booked late Friday afternoon.

5. Kos is a Greek Island close to Turkey.

6. This will be my first visit to this particular island.

7. I'm so nervous that I can't eat anything.

8. I have packed a sketch book, pencils, water colours, charcoal,

9. and probably far too much 'stuff'!

10. The holiday company says that my walking stick will probably be confiscated during the flight as it is potentially a 'weapon'!!

11. M wants to sunbathe and go clubbing, I want to sketch and explore, this should prove to be an interesting two weeks, lol!

12. Did I mention how nervous I am? Correction, I want to go back to bed and hide, but I know I will be ok once we are there.

13. I shall miss blogging and reading my favourites.  I shall miss TT and my other children. I shall miss my cats...

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Dabbing it here, dabbing it there...

I am a messy painter.  Actually I am messy full stop. I can't even use charcoal without getting it all over my face and in my hair.  Some times I plan to be careful - put newspaper down to protect the carpet and furniture, wear my oldest clothes - too frequently I simply forget.  The urge to paint or draw is a single minded impulse.  There are few things capable of distracting me once it strikes. Which explains why most of my clothes have acquired extra design elements, otherwise known as paint splatters.  Perhaps the non-existence of a social life is a lucky thing. What would I wear if I did go out?

Speaking of which, I received a text from a friend yesterday asking me if I would like to be involved with an art group that she and a few other students from university are starting up.  My first instinct was to say no.  The habit of hibernation runs deep.  However the lure of other artists to talk to and maybe a little fun, as well as the fact that L had thought to include me, is temptation enough to give it a go. 

I won't be able to go to the first meeting, which is today.  My financial situation is still too precarious to stray from my budget.  Even for bus fare. At the moment the only income I have is Child Benefit and Child Tax Credit, although hopefully, my Disability Living Allowance will be paid into the bank today.  The way the system works I was unable to claim benefit until the 3rd of July, which left two or three weeks with nothing at all.  I had planned for this, but unfortunately the money claimed back by the Student Loan Company wiped out what I had managed to save.  Fingers crossed that the powers that be do not take too long to process my claim.

I have been busy over the last few days working on a painting.  'Not every thing works' has been my mantra.  My experiments this summer are about learning to handle paint and about practising my drawing skills.  As you might guess from those statements, frustration levels have been running high.

I began with a charcoal sketch.  Not great, but the composition interested me.

Nervous about using oils, I decided to underpaint with acrylics.

By the time I had finished the first couple of layers with oils I was aching to take a pair of scissors to the painting.  At this stage, I felt that I had ruined a reasonable sketch beyond redemption.

Oddly enough, looking at the photograph of this stage, I feel less negatively about it.  The high contrast is interesting and I think I could possibly of pursued this.

I worked on the painting until the early hours of this morning and was up again, paint brush in hand by 5.30 am. It looks very different from the previous image and better in a larger size (click on it). I quite like some of the transitions, but it is still far from the image i wanted to make.

Oil paints frustrate me.  I find them so difficult to handle effectively. Yet I love them.  The smell, the texture, the colours. Their versatility in the hands of someone who knows what they are doing.

I think that today I will put away my sketch book, my paints and do something else.  Leave the painting to dry, avoid it for a few days. I doubt that it will improve with keeping, but perhaps I can learn some lessons when I am able to look at it with a more objective eye.

Sneaking out...

On Thursday, I went out.  Out of the village, onto a bus and into town.  When I say village, please do not imagine cottages with roses around the door.  No, this is an Urban Village.  A place where miners once lived to be close to the pit. A place now absorbed by a near by town, surrounded by vast housing estates, yet still, somehow, managing to cling on to  something of its individual identity. The high street remains ( my house looks onto it), so does an old church. A patch of tradition and green, side by side with heavy traffic, blocks of flats and the older, Victorian,  terraced rows.

I could write more about the village.  About its community, its facilities and its reputation.  About the affection I have developed for this place despite its faults. But  not here. Not now.  Today I want to write about Thursday and going out.

It must be two or three weeks since I last left the house except to scurry across the road to the shops.  On those occasions, skulking beneath a hat, I slide from my home and then back again like a fugitive afraid to be recognised. I know the right times to chose.  Times when the street will be quiet.  Just after 9am, when those going to work or school have already collected newspapers or chocolate bars.  The point in the late afternoon/early evening, when the day has ended but the teenagers have not yet emerged from their hiding places. If my children are available to run errands I can avoid even those fleeting forays beyond my front door.

Last Thursday I had reasons to venture further.  A need to purchase more cat food. A particular brand, only available from a particular pet shop.  And a promise to a friend to see her photography, displayed as part of the student exhibition at the college I used to attend.

As though to encourage me, it was a beautiful day. Warm and sunny after a rather dull week.  The bus was crowded.  A small child in a pushchair cried and squealed throughout the short journey.  I felt sorry for his mother who looked tired and embarrassed at her inability to pacify her son.  I smiled at her and she smiled back.  When we reached my stop I waited until the bus had come to a complete halt before standing up.  Experience has taught me that to do otherwise risks finding myself loosing my balance and landing on some strangers lap!   New passengers began to board the bus and I had to push through them to get off.

From the stop to the exhibition was only a short walk.  I was surprised by the rush of emotion I felt as I entered the building.  Familiarity, nostalgia, memories of the friends I had made here. I realised that, happy as I am at university, there is much that I miss from my year at college.

There was a lot to see.  Fine art, photography, design, fashion, crafts and all of it impressive.  This is always a good exhibition and this year is no exception.  As soon as the web site goes live I will post a link. 

I did not see any students that I know, but it was lovely to be greeted by various members of staff and to realise that they still remembered me.  Even my name. These people encouraged and supported me as I took the first steps on the road to fulfilling my dreams and I owe them a debt of gratitude. 

The one sad note was to discover that J has taken the redundancy package being offered by so many further education collages as they go through a period of upheaval.  She is one of those for whom teaching is a true vocation. Who has a special talent for bringing out the best in her students.  I have seen this before, in schools.  Where the need to make financial savings too often results in the most experienced and valuable members of staff being lost.  I promised to stay in touch with J and she says that when I graduate she will come to my exhibition.

That seems like such a long way off.  Three years.  Too often I wonder if I will get there.