Mother and I
The following photos were taken by me, many are fragments of larger pieces of work, they are my own viewpoint.
I love the London Underground map and this was a very beautiful collaged piece.
You will see a reoccurring theme, I love text and I seem to have enjoyed the lack of colour in many of the exhibits.
This very much reminds me of my garden at the moment, we have lots of very thickly spun webs with very butch spiders sitting in the middle of them.
fantastic photographs, the red ink is text.
If I could have bought one thing, this would have been it. My favourite piece.
Saturday I went for the dress and jacket combination, it was perfect if a little warm.
I had arranged to meet mother at 11ish to have a coffee before going in. At 10.15 the phone rings.
Mum "where are you?"
Me "waiting for a train"
Mum "oh great, well I am already here now, the bus just whizzed in, how long will you be?"
Me "I said I would be there for 11ish and that is when I will get there, go and have a coffee"
Mum "how am I supposed to know there is no traffic? I suppose I will just have to wait, I bet you are late and my phone is on low battery..."
Me "I will be as quick as I can"
I get there just after 11 I queue up for a coffee.
Mum "you will have to get a coffee from somewhere else I need the toilet and theirs is out of order"
I am now very irritated, I am left with crap Costa or shitty Starbucks but I do as she wants, I get one to go (it is shit) and start walking.
Mum "why are we walking in the shade? look it's sunny over the there"
Me "it is also packed with very lost tourists trying to work out which queue to join for madam Taussauds, we can cross over in a mo'"
Mum "well I have sat and read my bloody diary from cover to cover, next time phone me when you leave and I will leave then, I am so tired of getting here early and always having to wait"
When we get there the place is much much bigger than I had anticipated and would you believe it, you can take photos, so I now have a very irritable mother waiting for me to write notes and take photos talking ten to the dozen and guess what? my bloody camera battery was flat. My cup runeth over with joy.
Memo to self; next year go on your own and charge the battery.
P.S I should point out that my mother has always been pathologically early and it has been a constant source of misery that neither I or my father and one of my sisters, is or ever will be early or on time. For me time is fluid and if I find my self waiting, I will sit and read. I never leave the house without music or a book, if I do I will go and buy a paper then bin it if necessary. What I find so irritating about my mother is she will always project her irritation on to you and make out that because she has waited you must have arrived late!
To know her is to love her.