Waiting for the other shoe to fall

Someone once said that my nature was such that it was like 'always waiting for the other shoe to fall'.That was many years ago and to my amusement it has just recently bubbled up and fallen out of my head.The interesting bit of this little ramble is that the painting evolved (as they do) and I realised the little person sitting so bravely with her baseball bat waiting so patiently to swat the ? away,was me.And it is how I felt when going through chemotherapy.Of course one shoe= one breast,but you guessed that already.

A Good Memory

There's a train coming in
I can hear it.
At the station
Cold wind whipping 'round my legs.
My hands are shaking.
I am waiting
For the train.

There's a storm blowing in
You can see it.
From the platform
Dark clouds racing 'cross the sky.
My knees are shaking.
I am waiting
For the train.

There's someone now alighting
I can see her.
On the platform
Rain pelts loudly on the roof.
My heart is jumping.
No more waiting
She is here.

The Lady of Shallot absolutely finished

I woke up this morning around 2.30 and leapt out of bed and ripped the giant feather from the painting .I think it looks much better without it .

The Lady of Shallot....my version finished

As I said this is based on The Summer Tree by Guy Gavriel Kay.The King was sacrificed on the tree in times of severe drought.Also of course The Knights of the Round Table.Lancelot Guinevere and Arthur are featured prominently in The Summer Tree.I see the tree as devouring the landscape and dividing the realm.

The Lady of Shallot......my version. 2

I have managed to create a  lake where I intended a river but never mind,that's the least of my worries.I want the yellow to stay and lead the eye up to the castle ruins mmmmm. .....

The Lady of Shallot......my version.

The setting

this is the castle in ruins but they are still in residence

the plume in the top left corner represents Lancelot.At the bottom are all three  lovers.

I have always loved the story of Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot.I remember as a child I enjoyed comic books based on The Knights of the Round Table. Then a beautiful story called The Summer Tree.The author escapes me but I will include it when I find the name. Sooooo I had this idea ,and this is it.In episodes because it takes me so long to do anything. To be continued........

Twisted Sisters 1 Trampoline

Bouncing on the trampoline
heading for the light*
one point five ks in each hand
Did you tumble *
Little Twisted wants to know
Yes I tumble
I am tumbling in my head.

Deafened by the music
blinded by the light
holding my life in my hands
three kilos
that is all it weighs
Bouncing on the trampoline
Little Twisted says
Have you tumbled
Yes I've tumbled
How I've tumbled
In my head.


* Song references(Travelling Wilburys)

Perfect

This is not Shakespeare but it relieved an itch.


Perfect
You said that I was perfect.
I said "No one's perfect".
You said
Unsmiling
"No".

Perfect
I said that it was perfect
You said
Unsmiling
"yes"

Perfect
You said
"I'm leaving"
You said
Unsmiling
"You're not perfect"
Smiling
I said
"No"

The Second Lamest Song in the World

It's rainin' it's rainin'
My poor heart is painin'
I'm sick and tired of lookin' at your face.
You're poison,you're poison
My temperature is risin'
I'm getting out of here.
I'm going to any other place.

The stars have been against it from the first time
I tell you now that this has been the worst time
You've wasted all my money
That's just fine with me honey
I'm just gettin' out of here and going to any other place.

I'm movin', I'm movin'
My life is improvin'
I'm packing all my gear and moving out.
Don't doubt it,don't doubt it
We're better off without it
I'm just getting out of here and going to any other place.



Sorry I don't know what gets into me sometimes.It falls out so quickly and there is no stuffing it back.

The Lamest Song in the World

I am not sure what possessed me but somebody I met thought I should play a role in a musical she had written about a hasbeen country and western singer having a last ditch attempt at making the bigtime.I was to be the singer and could I please write a song or two. When I recovered from the shock I thought why not? So here it is.

Oh take advantage of me dear
Please take advantage of me
Advantage has never been taken before so be a good girl now and open the door
And take advantage of me.

I'm here and I'm available
Ma says I'm of age and trainable
You can take that with salt and a grain of bull
But just take advantage of me.

I know you could do it
I'm sure you'll be fine in having your way with this body of mine
I'll ask you again and beg just once more
Please be a good girl now and open the door
And take advantage of me.

You can do anything that I want you to
You can take anything that I give
I swear I will love you as long as you live
Do you think this is something that you can believe?
I've not made an offer like this one before
So be a good girl now and open the door
And take advantage of me.

Tears and Tina Turner

For the lost love.

If I were a poet
I would write something
About your tears.
Or about mine.

It's difficult to tell
which is which of the tears
that slide across your face.
One hangs across the bridge of your nose.
One second it pauses,then falls
And soaks into the pillow.
One second is enough
To make you look foolish.

In my mind
You become foolish
And I am sad about that.
I send you a silent apology.
But the damage is done.

April 1990

It is raining and cold,somehow on a dreary Saturday afternoon I have recalled a lost love.Ah! As I remember painful but wouldn't have missed it for the world.

I will always remember
The first sight of you.
Hunched in nervous embarrassment,
Half smile flickers across your face
Unsure of who I was.
Unsure of who I am
I smiled in welcome
Knowing you would be
important in my life.
In that first instant
I knew.

I will always remember
The last time I saw you
Your face closed against emotion
Unsure of what you wanted.
Unsure of who I am
I left you there
Knowing you would be important
in my life.
In that last instant
I knew you.
,

The Road to Damnation revisited

My goodness me I am so nervous and feel quite sick to my stomach. I have decided to paint a collage ( the road to damnation) it's on the blog somewhere.I wanted to paint it as soon as it was finished but until Third Sister suggested it I had pushed it into the too hard basket.Now here I am at the point of seriousness.I have washed the colours in roughly but it looks so confusing and I don't know where to begin overlaying.My god I don't even know if I am using the right terminology.You have to laugh don't you?

The Flasher

When I was around six or seven years old,one of our neighbours flashed me .It wasn't premeditated ,rather an opportunity taken is how I recall it.Anyway the incident,while not causing me any fear,has bubbled away in my head until this fell out.

       He shelters in a little wooden room
       His furniture clamped tight about him,
       Protecting him from prying eyes.

      He scuttles in the street
      He feels the hostile glances brush his flesh
      Their angry murmurs pain his head
      He worries to be home instead.

      His eyes are sly and womanwise.
      If needs be met he must be seen
      His parts displayed,
      To be admired,
       To be judged.
      Then home to wonder
      At the emotional upheavel in his breast.
      This?  
      His life reduced to this?

We are still here.

This really did fall out of my head in about five minutes I hope I haven't read it somewhere.It's very country and it made me cry bwaaaah.It is sort of what my Dad might say to Mum.
       
Life has lined your face
Disappointment dragged your mouth.
Twisted limbs betray my steps.
Bones that creak and knees that crack
The pain residing in your back.

Love has kicked and bruised your heart
As mine has damaged been.
Still I think of you
Recalling how you were.
Now I look at you
And love the way you are.
Candles glow and in their light
I see that we are beautiful tonight.

Blue boxes

So there I was looking at boxes again ,only this time I could choose one colour with which to paint.I chose blue for no particular reason.And it turned out like this .

Boxes

Three or four weeks ago,I have lost track of time as it has been a hectic month, my Third sister came to spend a week with me. The object being to do some serious arty stuff.My mum had bought me paints and brushes for xmas and I had spent the following six months looking at them in terror and bewilderment.Therefore sister to the rescue,she is an amazing art teacher and after several hilarious failures I actually drew some boxes

Chopped Liver

How many paths to the top of the hill?

How did she manage to choose the very path 

on which I was standing

Like a stunned mullet

Trying to choose my own path.

Like two crippled Clots on the landscape

We stumbled and limped up the bloody hill.

Until,wretched with our company,we dispersed.

I don't need you now

I have friends.

How many pieces of a journey can be divided by two?

I'll take Stupid and Lazy,

I can live with that.

You take Critical and Judgemental,

I hope you'll be very happy together.

Somewhere in amongst the accusations

I remember Laughter,

Very thinly spread,but there.

Raucous and Joyful once or twice,

But who remembers who owns what anymore?

I don't need you now

I have friends.

What does that mean?

How do you decide when someone becomes chopped liver?

How do you come to a conclusion

without Bitterness and Bile?

How do you continue with them?

So you don't need me now

You have friends.
Well then,it looks like I'm the chopped liver.

Connecting the Dots for Lee-Ann

A few months ago I had an early morning Idea, yes another 3 am job.I wanted to create something that evoked the new connection that we seven siblings now have.I am not expressing this very eloquently but it had to be based on an Indigenous design yet not stealing from their art form.It is all about emotional stuff and belonging somehow to The Group.I have noticed that when connecting the elements together I became increasingly emotional as the gaps closed .It is not finished I still need a connection or two and then to glaze it but I am so impatient.

I love a good shed.

While rummaging about in the old shed (and I mean OLD) I came across some old augers, very rusty, and one of them had an old rounded wooden handle.I put them both on the one handle and thought they looked attractive.I found a rusty dog chain hanging on the little shed tied it on the handle so that I had something to hang it with.when I hung it up it looked kind of like a cross but cried out for some other element.A light bulb moment occurred and I added my rosary beads the glow in the dark type at least 50 years old. I've called it 'Getting Screwed' because I feel Jesus did get screwed, and in truth we are still screwing him around.

A Three in the morning idea.

At three am every idea feels like the best idea in the world.Unique and exciting. How will the world exist without this particular idea.And then you ring a sister or three and they either applaud or set you straight. Apparently this was a good one.
So I set about collecting the components.Two pairs of panty hose, a length of old door frame from the shed and a length of picture rail from the shed.I found stuffing from some old cushions I had disembowelled a few years ago,and I began to look lustfully at my neighbour's barbed wire fence.He was very kind if not entirely understanding and cut me off two metres.From the op shop I acquired a substantial roll of crushed velvet in exactly the right colour, for one dollar!
The idea is that women are bound by fragile bonds, and fragile bonds like love and compassion are the hardest to break.Her breasts and genitalia are barbed wire because they cause us the most pain and are objectified as is she hanging on her picture rail.She has no head because so many women in the world still have no voice and are not encouraged to 'use their heads'.The question is this .If we cut her free from her fragile bonds what will happen? Will she be better off or not?There are four more 'eves' to come, posing various scenarios for her.I am looking forward to finding the questions.

Lazy, lazy, cow.

I intended doing quite a lot today and have done nothing except fluff about on face book.Seeing as very little is actually going to happen today I'll rave a bit.
After I had finished with Arnie I thought I might cut the paper into thin strips and use it like material, like patchwork. My first collage using the strips was to be called Acid Rain and the strips would all run diagonally across the board.Not very inspired I admit, but, what can I say?
I had Ottmar Liebert's Nouveau Flamenco blasting my ear drums (music is sooo important) and I began by gluing each strip then sticking it on.What a twit? Then I started painting the board with glue and working like the clappers before the glue dried.
The darned thing took off and did entirely its own thing.So it refused to be Acid Rain I thought when this was at full pelt,"I am on the road to damnation here." so that is what it is called.

A shock to the system.

I have always been one to run from conflict.Conflict of any type let alone conflict involving blood letting. I would never choose a book if the hero or heroine were likely to suffer anything more than a hang nail.Yet out of my head has spilled a rather gory tale,quite wallowing in blood and other nasty stuff.I have only a few more pages to write and then the decision what to do with it? I do tend to be a meglamaniac but with underlying self doubt.However as I have spent this time with my heroine I found myself crying much of the time and wishing she could change,but she wouldn't.
So to my mind if she has affected me this much perhaps the story has merit.I guess I will stop wasting time blogging about it and get it finished then.

All a jumble.

This has been a very eventful and emotional week.My daughter and I had lost track of each other and have spent the last six years searching,and thanks to facebook succeeded.We spent this weekend together,my son ,my daughter and two grandaughters oh my! how good was that!Needless to say by the time they all left Monday morning we were all exhausted.I am so looking forward to the next visit.
I want to start a new collage today but my head is all over the place .I have some beautiful red clay and a yellow too I have raw linseed oil and I want to use them to paint the background.Then the idea is to have seven swirly round areas connected by flowing curved lines.I can see it in my head and I have sketched it out but my stuff seems to get a mind of its own and I end up somewhere else.I will try and maintain some control this time.
And just for the heck of it....


There was an old man frog on a log
Out there in the pond waiting for his lady fair.
Patient and still in the morning chill
Making barely a sound as the sun shone down.
Slipping sadly out of sight in the evening light.

Then,one day at the sun's first ray
Our old man frog with his eyes agog
Spied a lady fair on the bank,just there
Where the path comes 'round by the garden chair.

All day he sang and his old heart pounded
While other frogs looked on astounded.
He sang as though he'd never known
His lady fair was made of stone!

Just a little ramble

This is very exciting ,I don't know where to begin.I am still waiting on a memory card for my camera,that is what you get for living in the sticks.,then I can add photos of the things I m trying to do.In the meantime I'll just have a little ramble.

A month or so ago I was having a moan and a whinge to my sisters about what a loser I am..I had discovered quite by accident that this was a way to get them to say nice things to me.Now this works well with close family but not so well on outsiders.Their eyes glaze over and they avoid you from then on. Of course this presents you with a tool with which to ensure that certain people do avoid you.(It doesn't always work).

I also discovered that it might cause a particular type of person to form a propensity to hang about and make a complete nuisance of themselves.I called this person Ratty .And I will from time to time make reference to our interaction,as he was not only a source of irritation but amusement too.To my credit I tried to be kind and never surrendered to my desire to cause him bodily injury.But time will no doubt tell.

It is called a collage not a picture don' t you know anything?

I really enjoy it when something I am working on decides to
take off and evolve a little.It is such a surprise at the end.
This one began as a dig at the world of body building and power lifting.
After following a dear friend around from gym to gym and competition
to competition I began to see something that I did not like.I can't even explain it
in this small space.Anyway I chose dear Arnie as the epitome of all that
is in the body business,but when I had almost finished and held it upright
for the first time lo and behold it was Adam falling from the grace of God.

Let's have another go at pictures.

Civilization is my first foray into the world of glue and
paper.I have tried to depict the beauty of civilization
and the underlying corruption. It seems that any
civilization rests atop abuse and oppression of a

'lesser' one.We will get it right eventually.

This is my favourite and I hope I don't sound
too precious about it.

I think I might just have conquered this blog.

Who is Me?

You may as well all know I am challenged on all fronts.Vertically,probably horizontally, and definitely technologically.I am no good at maths and can't sing.I have also proved it is possible to fall over the handle bars of your bike three times in one day and not break anything.Oh and it is possible to fall over the same fence three times in one day. At the moment I am having difficulty with facebook.Somehow I have managed to create two me's and I can't get rid of one of me. Consequently I have friends making friends with the other me, who only yesterday requested that I befriend her.How can I befriend myself? I have tried to find out more about this other me but apparently it's me. Now facebook are emailing me demanding to know who this person is and can she access my account. Well of course she can access my account its me, and could they please remove her? Yes they can please but which one of me is going? At the moment it is a stalemate and we are coexisting side by side. It makes me very cross to see friends and family members who should know better going willy nilly over to her side.

Sobbing,weeping,generally blubbering

Scary week,computer virus meant I was cut off from my loved ones,meaning I couldn't eavesdrop on anyone I should have been a spy.A new camera sent me into a dither of which button to press and when, and finally when I had the button pushing worked out I took photos of my artistic efforts and put them onto facebook.It was akin to throwing my children off the cliff .Phoned Sister of my soul who spent the next half hour deciphering my hics and wails and said she totally understood .That is why she is Sister of my soul.

       I also have Sister of my conscience.She is the one blessed with common sense and other essential tools for living a relatively successful life.Sister of my conscience can hear the problem and extricate the bullshit in one second then tell it to you like it is .

     Then there is Sister of my heart who runs happily into the realms of  Spirit with me .Each of my sisters are tied so tightly to me and to the other that we are surely one unit.I do not know if this is good or bad I only know I would be lost without them they are my Muses. And I am blubbering again.

Present and Accounted For.

I am here.