Sunday, 29 March 2009
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
We have half packed up and will probably move sites on Monday. I feel sad to the bottom of my boots that this day has come. But it has and I will have to deal with it. Worst of all we leave the school just as the trees are coming into blossom and the daffodils are out.
The view from next week will be a half finished building site, as the new school will not be finished when we move in.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
If I am so spontaneous, why do I always need something to look forward too?
This time last year I was only three weeks away from my trip to Paris. This year I satiated my desire by watching half of Before Sunset (Half because Leyla got bored as there was "no kissing" like there was in the first one!)
Last night I watched one of those travel programmes full of inane useless information about Paris.
--Did you know that there is a Vineyard on the slopes of Montmartre? It appears to produce half bottles of highly sought after red wine and some of the grapes are alleged to be hallucinogenic ( yeah right that’s one hell of a USP)
--Bees are making honey on the roof tops of the opera houses, Garnier and Bastille. Organic, no less. I am always puzzled as to how honey can be guaranteed 100% organic. How do the owners know whether their bees have not been on some orgiastic sojourn to some far flung genetically modified pesticide riddled field of rape. Well I guess because the bees would themselves die which as we know is happening, so I rest my case, there is no such thing as organic honey.
Under the same opera house there was said to be a trout farm!
--For a year from September 2005, under the nose of the Panthéon's unsuspecting security officials, a group of intrepid "illegal restorers" set up a secret workshop and lounge in a cavity under the building's famous dome. Under the supervision of group member Jean-Baptiste Viot, a professional clockmaker, they pieced apart and repaired the antique clock that had been left to rust in the building since the 1960s. Only when their clandestine revamp of the elaborate timepiece had been completed did they reveal themselves. More here
--The same group are now secretly mapping and archiving the various underground quarries that Paris is built on and from. Yep when you tuck yourselves into bed in that delightful boutique hotel, remember every brick that is above ground has been quarried from right underneath you. You do the maths and I don’t think you will sleep quite so soundly. I have seen the 300 kilometers of tunnel and that’s a lot of empty space precariously supported by only a few rickety pillars. That is what Paris is built on.
--Finally, In Paris 70% of bread is made by hand. In London 3% So Paris has hit the 21st century and still it can’t make a loaf of bread last till lunchtime. How on earth is it ‘a good thing’ to have to shop twice a day for bread?
Monday, 16 March 2009
Throw into this heady melting pot of chaos He Who Must be Obeyed walking around with his iPod* in, so every time he tried bellowing for the dog to come back, he managed to bring the park to a standstill that is everyone but the dog.
Mix in Leyla and her friend chasing the dog at every available opportunity and you have a less than satisfying experience.
Images from here
What people consider most important is Life and Peace. The most horrible act that destroys them is war. War should not exist. The only way to build Peace and to give importance to Life consists in giving people mutual confidence to discuss these two values and to try to make them become real.
Friday, 13 March 2009
Create or Promote?
Well I guess I am 50-50 on this blog but this post is shamelessly promote. Normal service will resume next week.
It has taken hours of sorting, filtering and uploading. If you happen to run a gallery or need a travel photographer for a few days I am more than happy to accommodate. Seriously, really, really more than happy.
The rest of you happy band of bloggers can have a peep too, but you've probably seen most of it and so will be sick to the back teeth of them.
Sadly 'he who must be obeyed' decreed that NO images of 'spawn of the devil' should be loaded, which is a real shame as some of them are quite nice. Hey Ho.
* please tell me you know where this came from?
Thursday, 12 March 2009
The column was so good it was chilling – it was beautifully written, but also had a rawness to it, an honesty that was breathtaking. It was real. The writer was ruthless in her descriptions of herself – here was a mother who had no idea how to handle her children's tempers and tantrums, and who was bewildered by her conflicting feelings of exasperation, love and loss. And the teenagers!
From the very first episode they were living, breathing, three-dimensional people – appalling, sometimes, but also funny and vulnerable and charming read more here
"Well FUCK YOU" I hear as I walked downstairs this morning. It was Daisy, and the person on the receiving end was Kitty. The crime? Kitty had failed to co-operate and prepare Daisy's school bag with the correct books for the day. The consequence was a stream of vitriol peppered with more fucks than I ever hear please or thank you. I poked my head round the door to calm troubled waters, after ranting some more Daisy says "Mum can you get my shoes out of the cupboard?" I comply without a mummer.
I totally echo the review above, the column was the first thing I read every Saturday morning, I would save it for Daisy to read as she loved it too. Beautifully written it had laugh out loud moments, as well as elements of real sadness tinged with the frustration that resonates with any parent of a teenager.
I missed it when it was gone and thought little about it until the latest brouhaha erupted over the publication of Myerson's new book The Lost Child which elaborates further the disintegration of Myerson's relationship with her eldest son.
I do absolutely count my blessings that both my teenagers appear very 'clean cut' I am Edina to their Saffy most of the time.
Reading Myerson's account of life with her eldest son, I can not help think that 'there but for the grace of God'. That Myerson has been so vilified for telling the story, especially of course by female journalists very sad and not a little unnecessary.
Many of us bloggers frequently recount tales of woe and destruction. Like Myerson theirs and my feeling is that a problem shared is a problem halved. I do not feel that I am using my own children for the entertainment of others, rather I am retaining my sanity in an often quite fragile environment.
This relationship was identified by recurring patterns, shapes or colours and the images derived from fragments and details of specific objects and places fixed or imprinted in my memory.
The method of working in series, groups and pairs were also reflected in the presentation of the work, where my intention was for the paintings to hang unframed closely together on the wall in the gallery allowing the viewer to make associations across the space.
This body of work comprised abstract paintings that were created in series or pairs, establishing a relationship between each image.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
I realise that you work your socks off; it is just that I don’t see it. Yes, you are quite right I must be blind. Of course you must be exhausted which is why you have to go to bed when you get home every night and absolutely, you need to unwind by watching inane comedy clips on You Tube.
I must of course take full responsibility for your lacks-a-daisical approach to independent study, because I foolishly guided you through the early years collecting resources and helping present your projects. I confess I remain very proud of the A* that I gained (on your behalf) for that excellent piece on the ‘Long March’ and treasure still the letter of commendation you received from the Head Teacher.
Yes of course you are right to have taken my guidance for granted and by way of an apology I have of course spent most of yesterday tracking down a range of under graduate courses that will inspire and delight you for the next three years.
I appreciate that you will move out to your Nan’s house but I thought maybe just a little further might be in order, hence my suggestion of Dundee. It does have the very best reputation.
I realise that to secure such a prestigious place you will need evidence of a work experience placement and I can assure you that it is all hands to the deck on that front, and I promise to have your CV written by tomorrow.
Monday, 9 March 2009
This little package from La Belette Rouge A VERY BIG THANK YOU
Second new arrival, this is a rare contemplative moment, he maybe over 5 years old but he has the body and enthusiasm of a puppy. We spent over 5 hours at Battersea Dogs Home last Sunday and decided on this abandoned Staff. We have named him Firat, a Turkish name that I had chosen if I was carrying a boy and coincidentally the Au-pairs boyfriends name too!
He is a joy such a lovely dog we spend all day shaking our heads as to how anyone would not want this dog.
Tod Papageorge (b.1940, USA) nominated for the exhibition Passing Through Eden - Photographs of Central Park at Michael Hoppen Gallery, London (7 March - 12 April 2008).
On Friday I took my year 12 students to The Photographers Gallery
to see Deutsche Börse Photography Prize
Taryn Simon (b.1975, USA) nominated for her exhibition An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar at The Photographers' Gallery, London (13 September -11 November 2007).
I then walked up past St James's park
Thursday, 5 March 2009
image from here
The beautiful Georgia O'Keefe ran her a close second as I got older
image from here
But now jostling for first place is Louise Nevelson
OMG I was trailing through some old posts when I saw the work of Zoe Arnold, finally the penny dropped, I taught her art. She was an amazing artist even at the age of 13, that she has gone on to produce work as exquisite as this is heartening.
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
The series reflects on the architecture of colonial and post-colonial Africa, looking at the many city streets named after Patrice Lumumba, one of the first elected African leaders of modern times. Lumumba became the first Prime Minister of the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 1960 but was assassinated in 1961. Streets that bear his name have come to represent both the idealism and decay of an African dream
Currently on at The Photographers Gallery