We were doing a morning of experimenting with different mediums and Anne did these atmospheric paintings with acrylic paint
A beautiful watercolour from Dawn (F)
Sue isa really improving with her watercolours
Margaret was doing a bit of decoupage
Gill was painting some cards
Frances always does beautiful watercolours
We decided to paint flowers in mixed media
Jackie was continuing with her sepia painting from a photograph
another beautiful horse from Christine
Eric has been struggling with this portrait of Jan – he is nearly there
I was also struggling this week with watercolour – it must be the moon or something as Dawn wasn’t happy with this painting of wisteria
and I don’t think Cate was entirely happy with her pastels this week
It was lovely to see Stuart and Michele back. The cockerel came back for some fattening up and Michele was showing us how she covers lampshades
Francis was not affected by the moon and was doing a beautiful watercolour
On Tuesday morning Cate was using gold leave to cover her box – and the floor
Pauline is really improving
another acrylic from Patricia
Daniel was painting this for his ‘soon to be’ grandson
Helen was making this stunning crocheted blanket
Colin was using some watercolour based pens
Sue brought in some cornflowers (we think) and we all did a little workshop
Steve was continuing with his chateau
Anne was teaching herself to crochet
… and I did another tile
Sue was learning to water colour again this week and I think she is doing fantastically well
… this was mine
Both Jackie and Dawn were painting in water colour too on Thursday morning
I found this old one of mine that I had put under the tap because I wasn’t happy with it
These are Patricia’s acrylic paintings this week
Colin was working in pencil and pen
I love this from Pauline, I think she is improving immensely but she was not happy painting on canvas
Gil was doing this wonderful paper cut
Sue was knitting mittens
… and I did another couple of tiles
What a treat, Tony stayed behind after the writing group this morning and cleaned our windows
On Tuesday Gill brought in her dye cutting machine for cutting fabric for doing appliqué
Chunky knitting by Margaret
It was lovely to see Cate back in France and she is always trying something new
A couple of paintings by Patricia
Dawn was conning with her oil painting
Steve finished off this one
On Thursday Cate was doing a large pastel
Jackie was doing this ethereal water colour
… and I was painting on roof tiles
Patricia did both of these paintings this week
Another water colour from Daniel
A stunning painting in acrylic by Steve
must do this – Dawn (S) had painstakingly painted some colour charts starting with one colour and adding different colours across and white going down. It must have taken ages.
Dawn has finished her archway in water colour
Sally was continuing with her cross stitch
I decided to try another collage – need to get into the swing of this again
I have finished this now
Colin and Sue came this morning for the first time. Sue had never painted before so this was impressive
and this is one of Patricia’s quick acrylics
This last picture is a take on the American Gothic painting by Grant Wood. Needs a bit of tweaking but nearly there.
The writing group has started off again and here is some of their work
Jenny writes:
“One of the many conversations we had at the last creative writing meeting was about the importance of particular moments in our lives. Brian considered the pain of parting and the joy of meeting up again and for him, the station at Angoulême was particularly significant.”
The Station by Brian Wilkinson
How many more of these sad departures shall I witness –
The last hugs, the last kisses, the final waves? The sadness.
Platform Two hosts the long carriages all too briefly.
Impatient, the engine is eager to wrench my loved one away to other loved ones in another city;
They will warmly hug, kiss, smile, even laugh . . . then hurry away
To a short adventure.
And now I once more stand on Platform One.
Stand, pulse stirring within . . . waiting.
Wanting to see engine headlights, saying “Soon!”
The station clock, ever so slowly teasing away the minutes, long minutes. Before
She alights, smiling, beautiful. Here. Now. No words but urgent kisses.
And warm hugs.
Welcome words bounce between us.
Let’s leave this place for our own warm place.
To embrace another welcome of tail-wagging, kisses and joy!
±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±
“Someone at the meeting said ‘You have to know when it is your last time‘ and this struck a note with Jenny, so she wrote about that idea.
No Time like the Present by Jenny Gilbert
“You have to know when it is your last time,”
Otherwise, later, you will feel cheated.
You have to know when it is the Last Time
You will ever be facing each other,
In case you don’t pay enough attention.
What if you rush your final words –
Or you overlook some detail?
What if you turn your back too soon?
Then you won’t remember clearly
That Last Time.
If only the brain could alert the heart:
“Watch out, the end is about to start!”
Then what a chance and a gift that would be –
To stretch your last moment eternally
And spin the Present fine like silk
To catch every last detail fast
And keep each one to view later –
Then you could endlessly repeat
Your Last Time.
So, this Now, I know, this is our Last Time.
Our farewell.
My eyes can’t leave the detail in your face
Or your eyes.
I breathe in your breath
Speak to hear you speak
And it’s impossible to touch enough
Or for this, Our Last Time, to last
Long enough.
±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±
A couple of poems from Anthony Kirk – Tony the Window Cleaner to his friends
Mont Buet 1st April 1987
“We made a fire that night.” “Do you remember?”
My front was hot
My back was as cold as hell
A frozen lake unwrapped itself before me
And lay solid like giant cubes in disarray
as if stuck fast to the inside of the wall
of a forgotten fridge-freezer compartment
“We looked up into the sky” “Surely you remember”
Their! Their! Hale Bopp presented itself like pieces phosphorous,
which had made its escape from the end of an old match
Dancing through the space in slow motion
like a Catherine-wheel that had lost it’s pin
”You do remember, don’t you?” “Say you do”
It crept slowly across the fabric of the night sky
Continuing on its mechanical, melancholic return journey back to the sun.
Leaving behind in its wake,
bits of old cogs,
springs,
some dials,
some second hands,
and some postcards from a long lost and forgotten letter box.
Throwing out its sodium streaks, which ripped through space
Like a beer stained 1980’s asteroids gaming console
in the corner smoke filled wine bar in Bordeaux
Only to makes its return in 4534
“ You will come and see me again?”. “Say you will “ “Please”
Plastic People
I know people.
Real people.
Common people but…….
They are all plastic people.
Stretchy, bendy polyethylene people.
I have nothing against plastic
And nothing against people
But when you connect them together
Everything they touch turns to mastic treacle
Contaminating the world with their plastic faecal
We have become purveyors of plastic
Food wrapped in cling film and see through plastic
Then we throw it all in the sea
Hoping that nobody can see
Until it leaches and hits the beaches
And ends up in the stomachs
Of lots of sea creatures
I know people.
Real people.
Common people but…
They are all plastic people.
Stretchy, bendy polyethylene people..
I have nothing against plastic
And nothing against people
But when you connect them together
Everything they touch turns to mastic treacle
Contaminating the world with their plastic faecal.
Tony your tea drinking Window Cleaner Man working in the Charente and the Dordogne.