Baby sister, the gift that just keeps on giving

Image from here

We may live in the same town but we do not see a huge amount of each other. Lucy is young free and single devoid of all that weighs me down. I sometimes think that she see's the compromises I have made throughout my rather chequered life and she thinks nope not for love. Not worth it.

Instead she has despite a shockingly poor start to her education clawed her way up the food chain to what I think is a pretty brilliant job. Now she is replete with an MA and a career that allows her to dine overlooking the bay of Monte Carlo.

My baby sister has always been wiser than her years, frequently mistaken for my older sister, which was a reflection of my juvenile behaviour rather than our looks. She stands 6 feet tall, a natural strawberry blond and a rather chunky size 18. She can be mean with words but generous to a fault with her time and money. My sister once spent a month sourcing tickets for an FA cup semi final that I desperatly wnated to see, it fell on my birthday and she not only found them but booked us into a hotel and drove us to Manchester to see it.

Through her dogged persistence she has allowed me to see Muse play live not once but soon to be three times. This may seem a small achievement, but tickets are like gold dust and frequently exchange hands for £300+. It would have been as cheap for us to fly to Spain to see them for what she paid, but she has and we will, tomorrow night float on a cloud of ecstatic jubilation at the O2 arena. In return I string her up a few beads and pick the phone up at 2am to help her find the lost passport she will need in 4 hours time for a business trip with her boss!

These are a selection of my favourite images currently on show at The National Portrait Gallery. They are some of the winners from the Taylor Wessing Prize, which will forever be known as the Kobal prize to me.
I have always enjoyed this exhibition, it is neither too showy nor does it try to be too clever. The above images are a fairly staple diet for the entrants, I have had to print screen to get hence the smallness, if you click on the image I am sure you will see it large enough to see the artist's name too.

these two images however are a more recent departure. I suspect they were always there, just not short listed.

I really am starting to love this genre of photography,and even more pleased that this whole genre is still alive and kicking. I thought it was not allowed that you could take random images of the public, but a student has tracked down a copy of the privacy law and it seems you are, as long as you take the photograph in a public place.

So long live the candid shot.

That was the weekend that was

Saturday we plunged into the sulphurs fug that descends upon London at this time each year to celebrate the metaphysical burning of Catholics, well OK, not ALL Catholics per se, but Guy Fawkes.
Every single Au-pair we have had furrows her brow trying to understand the phenomena that is Bonfire Night. They never do, but it was really rather brilliant this year.
Even princess I'm Bored seemed to enjoy the fireworks which we always go and see on Blackheath.
Previously I managed to schlep all the way to Bromley by bus and then forget to get the two things I went for. One of which was my boot that the bloody dog had chewed the zip of and my magician cobbler has fixed. Curiously poetic justice was deliciously served since I then forgot to buy his coat from the pet shop. The dog is semi hairless, neither pretty or particularly useful at this time of year. trust me it is bloody freezing, frost on the ground etc etc.. Yes yes yes before you all report me I WILL go and get him a coat next week.
I was sidetracked by Little Sister who took me to Bluewater. I used to love a visit there, but it lacks my favourite shops, so now it is a trial. I did buy a fab stripy pair of tights in John Lewis and having been shocked at the rather hideous colour of my current lipstick appears to be in the cold light of a November morning I bought a new one MAC Naked Paris. I'm still waiting!
My second attempt at getting a passport past the first hurdle of the miserable beasts in the Post Office FAILED again. I am on my third attempt tonight!

Love and hate Berlin

One for my wish list

and this book is on my wish list too.

And this book I have ordered

What I love about Berlin

• The space, Berlin has a population of just over 3 million in a space not much smaller than London that houses over 8 million.
• The trees, they are everywhere.
• The vistas, they do a fabulous one point perspective vista.
• The history, every street has a story and you are never more than a stone throw from an iconic piece of architecture
• The Hamburg Hofbahnhof, one of the most excitingly curated art galleries in the world
• The footwear, every shop sell such beautiful footwear Think! Birkenstock, I love how sensible/comfortable everything is.
• The coats, oh such beautifully cut coats they mix them up with their boots to perfection.
• Vapiano They have branches all over the place but I have only been to the ones in Berlin, it is such a lovely venue, cheap and easy to use.
• Fantastic train links, truly their infrastructure is a marvel

What I hate about Berlin

• The smell, they have sewer covers with ventilation holes, THE SMELL is horrible.
• The exchange rate, OK that is not quite their fault but it is a real pain.
• The bloody aggressive cyclists.
• That I have never been there on my own, yes I KNOW that is not their fault either.

So you see what is not to love. I would LOVE to spend a couple of days there on my own just to get a feel of the gallery scene. I know where most small galleries are in London but just have not got a handle on where they are in Berlin.

It will be a while before I return so instead will live vicariously through literature instead.

If you have a moment this weekend to spare please check out this amazing Flickr site. Truly inspirational. The link is to my favourite image which I found by getting involved in this excellently curated Flickr Pool, which of course I am contributing to.

I wanted SO much to see this, but I am bogged down at work and I now have to queue AGAIN to try and send off Kitty's passport, which is akin to a blood sport in this country.

Moving on

Well not literally of course, but having unburdened myself in that last post I want to bury it.

I have spent most of today creating a new 'note book' I love spiral bound books to write and draw in, I wish someone out there could spiral bind a ream of recycled paper A5 and sell them, that would be my ideal. Instead Daisy came home with a bag of freebies from visiting a local hospital's pathology lab. Of the many items of junk was a cheap spiral pad that I have customised, much like I did at college. I hate starting a new book both scrap. sketch or note. What I do is take out some pages from the previous one and stick them in the new one that we it does not feel so new, so precious.
I have also done some drawing today This like threading beads is so therapeutic, I love it.

I did buy in Berlin the most beautiful spoon made of horn. There was a whole stall selling spoons and various items of jewellery all made of horn, it was gorgeous, I have been drawing the spoon too, which like 'what I wore today', I find strangely compelling.

Berlin: the gift that just keeps on giving

WARNING

THIS POST IS BORING

Yes, I have a stinking head cold, 6 days of schlepping round the streets of an increasingly wet, windy and very cold city took their toll. I should of course hunker down with hot chicken soup and a hot water bottle. But I live with 'he who does not care' (yes that IS the worlds smallest violin you can hear) So it is easier to drink the undrinkable (Lemsip) and soldier on. That includes the dogs late night walk and the early morning 'lets mop up the dog piss' ritual.

Am pissed off? Yes, very. To be fair Emin paid for me to stay in the lap of luxury, it is my own fault that I am clearly ungrateful, I hate sleeping in an air tight overheated box with no way of cooling down. If you opened a window the noise of the traffic would deafen you, if you closed it you were hermetically sealed in hell. No of course we are NOT allowed the air con on , that would be a waste! never mind the air miles.
I felt really crap before we even went. I had to endure a raft of meetings on the Friday, none of them good. I was very tired and really wanted to rest. 6 days of walking for miles is not conducive to unwinding. I am shattered. Best of all not one second did I spend by myself. Emin had whole days where he walked off and did his own thing. As I intimated earlier Leyla was generally great but only as long as you danced to her tune. Yes, I know I chose to have kids. Yes I know I should be grateful, but sometimes it can get very claustrophobic. I longed to just sit and write for an hour or draw a 'what i wore today' outfit but I am so weird in that I have to be on my own or just with the girls. I cannot work near him as he just keeps asking "what are you doing?" Then commenting "what a waste of time" "what is the point of doing that?" On and on until you just give up, it was easier to read.

I hated leaving the other two behind, when he asked if I wanted to go I said no, primarily because as always I am broke. but also I was leaving the girls for the entire Christmas holiday I was not keen to leave them at half term as well. Churlish I know.
So as it was booked I went with an open mind and a positive attitude, only my body just kept emitting weary sighs, and so I 'apparently' came across as very negative. I was not wholly aware this was so, but yes, I had PMT and yes, when my period started I ached to stay close to a bathroom. It saps the very strength out of me. By Thursday afternoon he had had enough. The crime? I wanted to find a toilet and so he walked off leaving me to find my way back sans a map or any money. I was apparently

• Miserable
• Moody
• Moaning
• Uncooperative
• Sullen
• Sour faced
• Lacking a positive attitude

Oh and "he had paid for me....."
and on top of that, shock horror, I had expressed a desire to travel a little when I retired rather than sit holed up in a studio flat with him. He took every single opportunity to throw that one back in my face.
So having watched him march off leaving me with Leyla I found a couple of Euros in the bottom of my bag and just kept getting on trains until I got back to the hotel.

This was after I had patiently looked around various flats on Monday, as well as walking for miles looking around, I will admit that on arrival on the Sunday I failed to respond to his suggestion that we look around the area we were going to see the next day, but I was tired and hungry and as it turned out we did anyway. But once again I did it with a 'negative attitude' I sat through meetings with the estate agent and the bank, asking pertinent questions. I had made lots of positive noises and felt I had discussed in a positive and upbeat manner all that he wanted to discuss.
I asked that I could go to a gallery on the Wednesday I could as long as I had Leyla as he wanted to "get things done and she does not walk fast enough" I looked after her Wednesday the rest of Thursday and Friday. He then made facetious remarks about me having to stay close to toilets enquired as to whether I needed the hospital, on and on like a dripping tap of bullying.

We then spent Saturday together relatively mute aside from his usual bitchy snide comments, I finally caught a cold. (I wish to God our relationship had caught a cold before Leyla was born!) Oops did I say that aloud.
It is pointless trying to suggest a way out, we are financially inextricably linked unless I want to leave with nothing. I stay to create a half was comfortable environment for the girls. I realise that I am not in any way helping to reinforce a positive model for a relationship, but right now I am exhausted. The yo yo of his emotions is so hard to live with but I lack the strength to go.

Don't get me wrong about Berlin. I would love to live there and especially it would be an amazing place to work, it is a huge city with a tiny population, it still feels very young, always changing and very relaxed. It has none of the polish of Paris or the rich glow of New York or the frenetic charge of London, but that is what makes it so good. What depresses me, is that when I am feeling so bloody miserable my creative MoJo pack up it's bags and that to me was the worst part. I wanted to take photographs but the heart was heavy so I gave up.

Back home I am sleeping much better and I will feel better by next week. I am slowly getting back on top of the new pile of paper work thrown my way and eventually life will revert back to the same old routine.
It is funny though, as I walked the dog the other night, I as always peered through the windows trying to imagine the life of others, when I saw two couples seated on a sofa chatting, laughing. They had probably had Sunday lunch together. My stomach churned I thought that would be me by now. Not the car crash of a lifestyle I have ended up with.

Berlin

Here we are again....

I am back from the brink. This is the first time I have been away at half term and so rather than coming back to work refreshed I am emotionally and physically knackered. But before the purge must come the images.

Gerd Rohling as seen at the Hamburger Bahnhof-Museum. I loved the way he lit the disparate groups of glass to create the most vibrant reflections.

Hans-Peter Feldman too was brilliant he created the most wonderful kinetic shadows from the flotsam and jetsam we find at the bottom of a child's toy box. This is why this Gallery is one of my favourites. Every time I visit I get challenged and inspired. The gallery is HUGE and can take all day to really see it, I of course was accompanied by the delightful Leyla who kept that notion in check. I would say though that her score overall this holiday was 8.5/10. Very impressive and I hope an improvement she can sustain.

This is the refurbished cafe in the gallery. It ticks every one of my favourite interior design boxes. The use of reclaimed office furniture, the deep red walls, the wood panelling and tiled floor. Behind where I was sitting was a wall of books and journals, I could have sat here all day. Sadly I was not hungry as the cake selection was awesome, weirs I know as a child I would have forced down a cake just for the taste, but having done up the top button of a previously very tight pair of trousers I tried hard to abstain from over indulgence.

Below is The Holocaust memorial. A very powerful tribute.

The photograph below was taken from our hotel balcony. We had a superb view over Alexanderplatz, but that block of flat you can see may look a bit grim but I promise you the view they have is stunning. I would love to live there, when you look up you can see the most wonderful book lined apartments and it is right in the center too.

The corner of Sredzkistrasse, you could almost be in Paris don't you think? A really lovely corner of Berlin colonised by the intellectual classes, it was originally in East Berlin and has a wonderful mix of old and new style apartments, very expensive now though.

MilkBerlin What a fabulous shop, you go in and customise your own bag. They are very popular, primarily because everyone here seems to cycle. They are sadly very aggressive cyclists and brook no pedestrian in their wake. I was dodging them on pavements, roads and bloody cycle paths which have appeared everywhere. Seriously I am all for it if only they could be a bit more tolerant of disorientated tourists. I saw one cyclist literally 'take out' two Italians!

This image of the Berlin Dom is so evocative. I had no idea Berlin was so green. Well not now as the leaves were falling, but because I have only ever been during the cold winter months I was not aware of the amazing proliferation of trees. They are everywhere and at this time of year look absolutely stunning.

I love the path through the government offices down by the river Spree.

The iconic tower, from our balcony a cliche but I love it.

All the gossip tomorrow!