Alena Zhandarova

I love this portfolio of images from Alena Zhandarova, they elevate self portraiture from the mundane into something quite quirky but no less relevant to the genre.

Images from here

Lefkosa

I had resigned my self to not going to the city this time. but out of the blue Emin decide it was worth the considerable round trip, I think he fancied some nice food!, it was the best day of the holiday weather wise and plus I finally got to wander around this area. These are the original colonial buildings, they represent some of my favourite architecture. I love that despite everything they have kept the original colonial green of the paintwork on many of the restored buildings.


These houses are all clustered around one side of the city, very close to a school Leyla once attended, there is a fabulous restaurant called Hamur here which sells traditional Manti a kind of ravioli that Emin and Leyla love. My favourite is Borek, especially the sweet one made with a spiced curd cheese, it's delicious.
We met a fabulous Italian couple in there who had a house on the south side but preferred the traditional Turkish food. They felt it was closer to the traditional Sicilian food they loved, and despaired of the dull Greek food! They elaborated on there desire to partition Italy which was interesting and how embarrassing Berlusconi to have as their head of state!

I love this just sell one thing kind of shop.

A man can but dream!

All these shops and stall are around the cathedral cum Mosque it is still a wonderfully vibrant place despite the closing of the Grand Bazaar.

Backgammon is played everywhere.

Artichoke sellers above

and below, an image of huge market garden cum allotment, which in itself is not that special but what tickled me is just to the right of this photograph is the presidential palace, it's like the White House with allotments! Only here could you get this amazing juxtaposition of rich and poor. Plus check out those mountains they are spectacular.

Pronounced 'Lefgosha' it is the northern side of Nicosia. My first visit here over 10 years ago was to a very dilapidated city with little to offer other than a street market, a number of jewellery shops and some kebab houses. Now it is a vibrant city with offices for the EU even, amongst the burgeoning tourists destinations. T

he cathedral has been renovated and looks stunning, all the heritage is now being treated with a great deal more t.l.c than it once was and the most important change of all is the boarder crossing is open, you still need a passport to cross, but compared to the heavily guarded dividing wall, pock marked by bullets its a significant change.

Edith Maybin

I find these images both compelling and disturbing, I think the reason for this is that the relationship I have with my mother repels me and yet the relationship I have with my daughters especially Leyla I can relate to, this closeness of morphing into each other.
I realise it may sound superficial but I love the use of colour in the photographs and the fragmented composition, I love that not all is what it seems.

Text from here

Images from here

The view from here

So to town to meet Mother.

Sir John Soane Museum
Mmmmm, nothing a skip and a lick of white paint wouldn't sort out, seriously clutter doesn't even come close, and considering he was an architect there is precious little focus on letting us see the bones of what must be an achingly beautiful building. The location is pretty special too.

Kitty fleeced us both royally in Zara and H&M thank god we didn't get to Top Shop.

Dean Street Townhouse

I appreciate they did my sister a favour squeezing us in but even so sitting next to a door that was constantly banged open with increasing alacrity was irritating, the staff too all seemed to talk, much like my students do at school getting louder and louder and louder. Staff should be seen and not heard, sorry but at that price it's all about ME not them.
The table would have done Winston Churchill proud since you could have planned the invasion of Europe on it and had room to spare for a game of crib. I managed to semaphore most of my instructions to Leyla who sat opposite, but otherwise you are forced to raise your voice to compete with the staff or give up. Maybe they should just put telephones on the table! It reminded me of those heady days of Kensington Place which suffered similarly, but somehow carried it off with great charm.
The menu was esoteric but did tick Kitty's steak and chips box but poor poor Mother, I actually felt sorry for her, she always draws the short straw every time, she hates strong flavours so struggles as much as Kitty to determine what is edible and what is not. My sister said a friend had recommend the Mince and Potato, seriously would the name alone not ring alarm bells? And lo that is what she got, a plate of gruel, mince and a side dish of bland buttered potatoes . In prison it would incite a riot, here my mother with a heavy heart just sucked it up. quite literally. My salad was esoteric and a little too chilled, but I ordered it with chips, £4 chips which should have included a pocket sized leprechaun to feed them to me, instead they came in a metal flower pot, which is a ridiculous affectation, especially since it then steams the life out of them, plus they were frozen chips. Shame on you .

My sister and I watched the table opposite order an afternoon tea. the cakes would have done Katie Price proud such was their synthetic luminosity, Lucy did wonder after we had dissected the colour of the macaroon (which truly was the most hideous pink) within an inch of it's life that we were not just a little spoilt? No we are not, we just have high standards and when places like this say they are selling the dream then that is what we want.
The waiter fared no better constantly harried not once did anticipate anything without us asking, begging, pleading. I gave up and finished with a coffee. Kitty and Leyla did say the ice cream was lovely so that must have been bought in. No, I would not go back, it is a place beyond any form of redemption, they have not an ounce of humility, it is a triumph of hype over substance.

I bought a lovely scarf in COS though !!

Saul Leiter Courtesy of the Howard Greenberg Gallery

I must have seen this book so many times and not once did the penny drop, don't laugh but I thought it was a book about colour theory by Saul Leiter! Seriously how thick am I? In fact it is a monologue of images so beautiful it almost makes me want to jack it all in, I said almost, a curious arrogance lurks beneath my insouciance which makes me believe I too can reach the heady heights of visual perfection seen here.

Of course it's sold out now, but you never know....

Takahiro Kaneyama

It is always difficult to know what to say in the face of personal loss, no matter what the statistics say each and every person is a personal loss to someone and as time creeps ever forward the whole notion that Japan is a country able to deal with a seemingly endless stream of trials thrown at by nature has been soundly disabused. Their Yang can no longer fight the Yin violence of nature.
One of Japan's most iconic images is The Great Wave Off Kanagawa by Hokusai, it neatly encapsulates visually the battle Japan has with the sea, even the word Tsunami originates from the Japanese language. What Hokusai would have made of the ugly fall out of nuclear power we will never know, the menace is invisible and as deadly as the sea

Japan has always been high on my list of must see, and still is, but these images beautifully illustrate the pain of love and loss.

images are from here

Monochrome Miffy Must Try Harder

That camera is bloody brutal, what possessed me to wear leggings under the skirt on Tuesday? Seriously I look like I have got Elephantitis, not an attractive look. Emin bitched a bucket load about how short Monday's skirt was, sad to say I may have put on a few pounds causing it to ride up. There is a stain on Wednesdays dress, why did it have to be on the lightest stripe? And yesterday's outfit, which I thought oozed lux looks a tad frumpy. Leaving me with Friday...and to be honest I'm not convinced I have the right necklace on.
This somewhat shambolic array of errors is do to time, I am not leaving myself any time to make last minute changes in the morning
.
Memo to self must try harder.

I was roundly put in my place last night by a girl with a clip board, having wanted to smuggle Mater & Pater into the teachers private view of Ida Kar I was forced to retreat tail between my legs having decided I could not possible sit through someone in a lecture theatre droning on about the show, especially since I will be back in two weeks for... a teachers evening. My failure to sit through the talk meant I was unable to elicit the said free tickets and so Mater & Pater kindly rewarded my uselessness with a delicious meal out instead.
A big THANK YOU for that, despite us both being voracious blogger's we talked like there was no tomorrow, which of course there isn't as they will be hot footing over the channel to live as Parisians.

Bon Voyage.

Tomorrow I get to schlep around the Sir John Soane Musuem with Mother and Kitty, what a joyous combination that will be, Kitty loves nothing better than a bit of gilt & chintz!
I have planned a carrot in the guise of a nearby Zara & H&M for her, COS for Mother where she can fashion stalk me to her hearts content.