Thursday, 28 December 2017

28 12 2017

Finished, pretty much. Tweaking to do - some omissions to be rectified. Taking today off to go to the neutral space that is  Carcassonne, clear my head.
Found a pro tem title and a decent introduction, I think. Reaching the stage where I WANT to see this in print, which is perhaps a good thing. Or not, of course. Certainly want shot of it.

Saturday, 23 December 2017

23 12 2017

dribbling on... quitting when it gets hard. Getting back when I can. Seems to work as a technique.
But now its xmas, nearly, and mega sociable. Then on the 2cnd Jan the building work starts in the studio and I must prepare for that. Not overjoyed.

Friday, 22 December 2017

22 12 2017

cracking on, getting at least some time every day. May have something ready to frighten designer with in the new year.
In the meantime, conversation (email) with Laine who is writing a piece about notebooks. I offered my installation from the Drawn by the Light of Burning Bridges show... then had to organise my thoughts about the thinking. (Its all embedded in this blog but couldn't be arsed to read it :) Besides, its always clearer in retrospect. Or more coherent)
That done, went out to an Indian music gig and took a notebook. After the trauma of killing the lifes collection I'd vowed never to use another but ... in the event.... and god! I enjoyed it. Nothing like an instant response to a sight.

Saturday, 16 December 2017

16 12 2017

silence due to the fact that I'm working!! Or have been prevented from working and lying in a corner gnashing my teeth- getting plumbing in for next building work, cleaning houses for cooking dinners, dealing with current builder, managing etc etc .
But the cartoon book looks feasible.
Its all going rather well.

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

05 december 2017

Back home and no sign of culture. Went to the Modigliani at Tate Britain and loathed it. All those wonderful pix I've known closely since I was a young artist, hermetically sealed under that thick non-reflective bullet proof and person excluding glass, ugh and thrice ugh. One of the pix I'd had next to my bed at boarding school pinned to the wall - couple of portraits, the nuns wouldn't have stood for a nude -  was slightly smaller than Id expected. That's about all I gleaned from the show except in future to avoid these things and just buy the catalogue. It was the same with the Cezanne. A minor fortune to get in to see some curators idea of an artists work without the ability to actually experience it.
Better go and do some work now instead of spleen-venting. Wasps all dead.