Developing Work

The first painting is a quick sketch of a new character called Khagiso. The second painting is more work on the Talents painting.

The Kidney Stone Conclusion

So, if there was any doubt before, there's definitely none now: I am not nursing material. Rich went into hospital and had the stent removed and the last 3 stones lasered. I arrived at the hospital as he came out and I helped him put his clothes on. This time the pained expression was more from the wedgy he got from me dressing him than the actual pain he was experiencing! Anyway, eventually he has something to eat and the tray with the food hovers above his groin area.
Rich asks feebly for me to "lower it" and I assumed he meant the tray with the food on it, so I press the lever but forget to put my hand under it to stop it from slamming down at high speed...
His eyes rolled back and he let out a few groans. Then I establish that actually he meant "lower the bed". So I hunt for a lever to lower the bed and his eyes pop open in horror and he says, "Just leave it."
Eventually, the nurse walks past and I ask her to show me which lever lowers the bed and in a terrified start, Rich says "No thanks, I'm fine!" his eyes are still enormous...
So, I guess it should be no surprise then that this morning instead of phoning me to come and fetch him, HE WALKED HOME!!!
Sigh, I meant well, you know.

Voting in SA

So, I got my "little" black smudge on my thumb that resembles a painful slam in the door, but I'm really disappointed to find the ANC has no real opposition. I was really impressed by the arguments of COPE's spokesman in a debate the other night. He was the only opposition who wasn't finger pointing. He spoke of practical problems that weren't addressed and the need to address them while all the others talked wide berths around the point... In spite of the lack of performance, the country is still not ready to vote a different party into government and are quite willing to continue living in squalor and poverty while the upper echelon reap the benefits of policies that suit the wealthy and well connected. So, what can you do?
I believe education is a huge key, but also we need to get rid of all intimidation. This morning in PE one of the COPE representatives was shot to death in his lounge by 3 assailants who got away in a vehicle with ANC stickers.
Not to mention what goes on in the rural areas...

The Burning Lipstick...

Ha ha! Denae, I breezed through your blog and the make up entry reminded me of an experience I had. I might have told you this one...
I was sitting watching TV one evening and I saw an advert selling this lipstick. I didn't catch the whole advert, just the bit about getting a free mascara with this amazing new lipstick. So, I went of to the shop that was advertising the special, found the lovely colour that suited my skin type, and didn't bother to put it on in the shop since I don't fancy putting that tester near my mouth thanks very much.
Anyway, I get home, go to the bathroom and put on my fabulous new lipstick. I walked down the passage (which isn't a long way - it's a short passage) and the overwhelming burning sensation starts searing my lips - and I don't mean just a little tingle to tell you it's working - I'm talking deep heat, vicks kind of burning... I race back to the bathroom and start removing the offending specimen - which doesn't really help, since although the colour is gone, it's still burning like the dickens...
That evening, as I'm sitting considering if it's actually possible for lipstick to be rotten to the extent that it burns the living daylights out of your lips, I see the advert again and this time, I watch really carefully - undivided attention time.
It turns out, the lipstick has collagen in it, for fuller, plumper more kissable lips. Hmm. I think this might be just the thing for me. Richard is inclined to call me snake lips at times and this sounds like something I could really use... Of course, then I start imagining Goldie Hawn in First Wives Club and I take myself back to the bathroom for a test run.
So, on it goes again, this time I prepare myself for the searing fire and I wait for the "plumping". Well, after an hour, I realise that I'm going to have to be happy with the colours that suit my skin type and burn like the dickens for at least the first 10 minutes of wear...

So...Am I going to have to walk to hospital again?

Ha ha! Thought that might grab your attention! While everyone was settling into a chocolate frenzy on Friday and the town resembled every Sunday from the early 80's, (No shops were allowed to open on Sundays in SA) Richard was writhing in pain and agony as he struggled with yet another bunch of kidney stones.
We live around the corner from the hospital and a few years back when the kidney stones started, Richard phoned me one morning to come and fetch him from work in the 8am traffic. I was due to see one of my students off at the airport - he was off to Kenya for 2 years and I got moderately het up at the thought of a major detour in the opposite direction of the airport. So, I finally got back to the flat and barely screeched to a halt (the car might have been still moving as Rich collapsed out the door...) and I told Richard to wait at the flat, I'd be 15 minutes. He moaned dreadfully and I told him to stop being such a Nancy and wait at the flat. I knew if I dropped him at the hospital, I'd have to stand and fill out forms as he sat on the chair all grey with his eyes rolling back...
Well, I raced off to the airport only to see Mawande's aeroplane glide smoothly into the glaring white sky. By the time I got back to the flat, Rich had walked to the hospital and do know that he milked that one...
When he tells people he had to walk to the hospital with kidney stones, they look at me completely horrified...
It takes one minute with a walker, man! There's an old age home around the corner too and the old folk often take a stroll to the doctor in the medical suites attached to the hospital.
So, as Richard sat quietly in a corner with beads of sweat at his hairline, he asked rather pathetically, 'So, am I going to have to walk to hospital again?'

Thanks Missy!

An Innocent Abroad the Net

A few weeks back I got an email in my junk box that said something to the effect of: Have seen your work and like what you do, we have a site you might want to join because there are jobs going that would definitely suit your work. Oh, my goodness! This was tantamount to offering a dying man in the desert an oasis of bliss hosted by a suspicious fantastical figure...
Obviously there were a number of warning signs - but let's face it, when you are in the desert of your career, producing work quietly in an encapsulated tomb in the hopes of producing a big enough portfolio to KNOCK THEM DEAD when you finally have your solo exhibition, the last thing your hopeful little conscience does is pick up on the indicators of a scam as your excitement swells to ludicrous proportions in the hope that this is your break - finally!
Well, I eagerly went and joined the site before checking out the jobs and the people on the network - then I went and checked the jobs and suddenly it became glaringly clear that this individual who had sent me the email (which I'm sure was a generic) had no idea what my work looked like...
Besides the fact that some of the jobs that were posted were laughable, "Looking for someone to make me a jersey like Princess Dianna's from the 80's" (Ok, not that bad, but close...) the supposed "business people" on the network looked more like talent scouts for movies that don't get to the video store, nevermind the cinema... Including a very suspicious looking person calling themselves Oprah Winfrey... Hmm.
The final straw was when I got a friend request from a guy in India who looked like he was trying out for a part in Baywatch.
And I thought Facebook was bad...

Talents & Therapy

So this is Talents and the Therapy painting - the therapy painting is inspired by a colourscheme of african design and patterned mosaics - I'm still going to include a beige and blue in that design, the Talents painting is still in the very early stages and needs a couple more layers. The background I've ignored for the time being, but I'm contemplating a subtle less detailed pattern - the type of pattern that is made on the floors of the huts.

Prelim Therapy Painting

I've been feeling a bit jaded by people and circumstances that seem unjust around me and somebody suggested I vent my frustrations through a symbolic painting... So, here's the prelim drawing.

The Profitable Servant or Talents?

Painting titles are still a work in progress for me.

Hi Missy

So true!! But does repeating the mantra instill belief eventually? Kind of like you don't really want to paint and you start working and eventually as you work something brilliant happens? Or having someone repeatedly tell you something and eventually you actually believe it?

The Profitable Servant

What a surprise - with a lot of pent up anxiety and stress and frustration, I worked on the new painting this past weekend (In between coughing up a lung and trying to look sympathetic as Rich suffered more kidney stones). I managed to get a good few hours in on Friday and Saturday night - packing up around 1am and only dozing off an hour later.

Rachel has thankfully recuperated from broncitis and I'm getting there. I think the weather is really aiding and abetting the perpetuation of illness though. It has been appallingly hot in spite of the cool mornings, and the inclination is to put the fan on which doesn't really help the already infected!

So, I had a discussion with Nan in which we spoke about internal critics. She told me the adage "you're your own worst critic" just isn't true. I agreed, since I know someone who is a much worse critic than I am. She went on to say that she never critisizes herself and I was surprised at that. I gasped, Really? I'm awful - I always look at the work and think it doesn't look professional enough. Nan yelled NOOOO!!! YOU MUST LOVE YOURSELF AND YOUR WORK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!!!
So, I'm to repeat vehemently: I LOVE MY PAINTINGS! I LOVE MY ART! It sort of reminds me of a tongue in cheek litho print I did when I was studying: I combined a self portrait with a picture of an artist from the 70's holding up a sign that read: I'm a Real Artist.

I've been thinking about Norman Rockwell this weekend. I was thinking about the subjects that he painted - the old fashioned virtues and neighbourliness - and how he did all that in a little studio in New York City. I wondered if he painted those subjects as a longing escapism, or whether in the midst of the violence and decay of the city he was witness to small, innocent scenes like that.