Friday, 10 June 2011

Wishing my life away or planning for the future?

It's a fine line isn't it? I don't make many lists, what I have are visual scrapbooks, but they amount to the same thing, looking forward to something I hope will happen. It may not, anything could happen to divert the dream and yet if I don't have the dream I wonder at times what is the point? What happens if we don't plan for the future? Which in turn becomes living for today. Lost? How do you think I feel?

Seriously, I am good at living in the present, I love it and try hard not to waste a minute, it's mostly about self gratification, looking forward to my morning coffee, catching up on iplayer, my current new squeeze is Desert Island Discs, you can catch pod casts of the last 50+ years they are awesome. Yes, I visit galleries, go to plays, walk, take photographs incessantly and believe it or not, I know I make it look effortless, but this blog takes some effort too. All living in the present as well as just doing enough not to lose my job.

I made the mistake recently of telling my mother that we were looking to move to a bigger house, "why?" she enquired...I then explained Emin's ridiculous plan about bunking up with his sister to save some cash to secure them a better financial future and us too. God did she rant, going off on one of her bitter little diatribes, on and on and on. I could not at any point be bothered to point out that there is more to life than rattling around a large house that I am out of most of the time living, and that I'm using the inconvenience to do an MA. I also wanted to scream at her that when she was my age she and my savant father had lost their life savings and remortgaged the house all on a bloody restaurant. At my age she was beginning again, yes, well done, but really? Was it well done? To then have to slog your guts out for nearly 20 more years just to get to where I am now, because Mommie dearest I am on my home straight, I have a light at the end of my tunnel, short term pain for a long and hopefully fruitful retirement not hamstrung by money worries or wondering where my next conversation might come from.
And, just in case he does fuck off with some one needing a British passport like my savant father I have had the presence to save for myself enough money to live on anyway. So there!

Now where was I? Dreaming of sunny climes and planning for the gulag in Cyprus. I have recently been very distracted by this blog which is where these images are from. I have figured that as the roof is now on I should preempt any further work on the gulag with a look book to avoid the Formica tiled hell that we presently endure, retro living is fine in pictures but grates to live with. So I give you my favourite kitchen for Cyprus, he loves it too, so this will be our model. The next two images of bathroom's he is less sure of since a 'finish' on any surface is challenging for Cypriot workmen but I think we could give it a

I just like the ideas of a raw surface as opposed to tiles.

I have always dreamed of a wetroom.

Viola the bedroom,I am going to keep it all white and very simple, we are putting sliding doors in all the rooms which will frame the view so no need of clutter which I am hoping to keep, in dare I say it in a studio...we shall see, it's not like there won't be room and as we are looking to make this our permanent address he will just have to suck it up so to speak.

And if he leaves me for some more attractive goat then I will buy myself a beach hut in Cornwall so win win mother.

And talking of the here and now ,I am absolutely gutted to have lost my Saturday's in the city. Leyla had the last 4 weeks of her classes cancelled, I am not sure who wanted to weep the longest her or me. I was already intending on try to say hello to Badaude tomorrow as she will drawing live at the Tate Modern, I also need to go to plan a school trip, so it was going to be a good day for me, I will attempt to get there after lunch instead, but I'm really going to miss those Saturdays.


materfamilias said...

Your relationship with your mother is so much more intense than mine -- and although much of that intensity is negative, sometimes I'm almost envious. Funny . . .

I LOVE these photos of your dream home in Cyprus -- the kitchen is simple enough to work anywhere, yet has style. The best of cottage holiday and everyday . . . And I approve the other rooms as well!

Oh dear, too bad about Leyla's classes. Hurry and find something for her so you have time to romp around London taking photos for us! (No, I'm not selfish at all!)

indigo16 said...

Yes, poison comes in small but potent doses as does my mother.
I am defiantly going to try for the Tate Modern, but maybe the lack of London visits will help my bank balance!

Mardel said...

I love the photos of the dream house, so nice.....I'm dreaming now.

My contact with my mother is almost nonexistent now, but I remember what a toll those conversations took.