Tuesday, June 29, 2010
When I use pictures rather than words- does this consitute a poem? Words for me are another medium to paint by, and sometimes I find difficulty expressing my thoughts in any other way than with a visual image. This is one from my diary.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Have a trawl through the links at the top of my page- it tells you about what I do, what I love and what I want to do more of: essentially creating stuff. I draw, I paint, I write, I make things and talk about them in an entertaining way. I've always thought that if you are given a talent in this life, be it with numbers, music, healing, art (everyone has a talent- sometimes its just that you can listen and not judge), you must use it. To do otherwise is a waste of the gifts that have been bestowed on you by your genes, or your gods. This is why I do what I do and don't work stacking shelves in a supermarket- I have no talent for that; I am too short by half and I'd just want to make groovy pyramid patterns from the tins. I'd love to be philanthropic but I'm the breadwinner in our household, therefore....
So I can honour my gifts; pass on my website address to everyone you know who might have artwork they need done, an illustrated talk they'd love to have, some creative writing they'd like to have ghost written perhaps, and help me to keep generating myself in the world as who I am. Much love to all my followers xxx
Friday, June 25, 2010
More from the archives- I thoroughly enjoyed doing these pics for Hugh; his stories are very entertaining and a wonderful trip down memory lane as a small boy in Northern Ireland all the way across to here, the characters he met on the way, the guiding he did and the tall tales and quite true...
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Here's a little montage of some pencil pics I did for a book of fishing memoirs that has yet to be published- Hugh is getting fed up waiting so if you are of a mind to publish a written book complete with pics- it's a great read from Ireland to NZ!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
I have a ‘significant’ birthday coming up in a week or so- I don’t have any particular worries about saying what it is. I want people to either exclaim ‘My God, how does she keep looking so young?’ or ‘My God, I can’t believe we have another how many years of her hyperactivity left? can we book her into the Rita Angus now and she can run the craft program whilst she waits for a room!’
In reality most will say ‘Oh no, everyone knows I went to school with her/ is my little sister and now the ageist cat is out of my wrinkled bag.’
Too bad gals- it was a good year and we should celebrate! But… that brings me to my only real concern about reaching the half century. Due to the recession and the fact that I’ve pigeon holed myself into a creative career that has plenty to do with fame but not a lot to do with money, the celebrations will be extra slim. It seems nothing much has changed over the years- I wrote this poem for Next Magazine in 2000 and it was just the same then. Dang! I have changed the age in the poem to more accurately reflect my age and I like to think I look even better in the fluffy slippers.
The nicest bottle of bubbly sent to me in honour of my day will recieve the original signed illustration sealed with a kiss. How good is that?
For my 50th birthday,
I’d always had it planned,
That I’d spend it on an island
With Dom Perignon in hand.
Lying in a lounger
On a beach with my two sisters,
I’d gossip, drink and toast myself
‘till I broke out in large blisters.
Gorgeous boys, just half our age
Would serve us mangoes sweet,
Then rub our backs with suntan oil,
And massage our bare feet.
Then when the sun went down at night,
We’d put our glad rags on,
And dance away the evening
To some South Sea Island song.
But looking at my bank account,
I see my wild dreams
Involve a better income
Than my current one, it seems.
So due to dwindling credit
(And the unrest in Fiji)
I’ll pour a Lindauer at home and sing
“Happy Budget Day to me”