Chilax

is a horrible word and yet encompasses all that we have done this week. Kitty above is modeling her night to day wear outfit whilst allowing the dog who thinks it's a cat to lounge on her lap, breaking the cardinal rule of 'no dogs on the sofa'
My view of the mutt is this, whilst out he operates on two speeds, gallop or trot. A casual walk appears to be an anathema and so I semi jog twice round the park.
Which is probably why I can fit back into these. It has been a long time since I have worn jeans but I decided to bite the bullet and buy some for the holiday. Denim plus the seaside is a pretty ubiquitous combination and whilst I have an abundance of denim skirts I do shy away from jeans. 

This is strange because before I became a Head of Department I wore nothing but jeans. My colleagues jokingly asked if even they were seasonally adjusted. Well obviously! They think I am strange the way I rotate my clothes seasonally. But to me wool and cashmere for the winter and silk and linen for the summer is a no brainer. Their idea of seasonal adjustment is to stick a cardie on. 

 I could not face GAP this time and managed to find a perfect pair in M&S Autograph section, the only ones without  creases. Very slightly bootleg I bought extra long so that I could turn them up. This is perfect for wearing with walking boots or flip flops.

 I came back home to rotate my wardrobe and found this GAP pair languishing unloved. They fitted perfectly, and they are light enough for the summer, which of course will be baking.
On Sunday I went up to London with mother. All the shops were shut but we did finally make it to Whitechapel to see the refurbished gallery.

The Isa Genzken exhibition is a mixed bag, I would have loved to have taken some photographs of her glass constructions which were beautiful but her work upstairs was less engaging. I felt I was missing the joke. Other work on display were interesting and best of all like so many places it was free. 

After a long bus ride back mother decided she wanted to eat, not just a bog standard sandwich, but proper food. Everywhere seemed closed being Easter Sunday, however I had a brainwave and went up to the top of the National Portrait Gallery where this restaurant is. 

Stunning views wonderful food it is everything that The National Dining rooms is not, If you want to sit and look at a wonderful view, this is the place.
My book for the holiday was Kingdom by the Sea by Louis Theroux.

 It was a bit turgid at times but the subject matter managed to triumph over his rather dry writing style in the end. The book was written way back in the eighties and reflects the era well especially his trip around Northern Ireland. As someone who has visited most of Britiain's coastline I did not feel he understood or came close to understanding our relationship with the coast. 

Growing up in towns many miles from the seas I crave it which is why we so often spend time there in my holidays. If I was given a choice I often wonder if it is where I would like to live. 

We have all decided on Suffolk next year, we have all been, but not for a long time and so I am currently trying to find a place in Aldburgh or Orford. I can smell the sea already!

The View From Here

And so I packed my bags for a week by the sea. During the car journey up Daisy let me know that they did not appoint anyone for the Head of Art post, which made me feel strangely lighter. The reason they gave for my rejection was apparently I rather cavalierly announced that I felt that drawing should underpin the syllabus and IT should be discreet. This was it seems contrary to what they wanted and so I was rejected. What is it with Head Teachers and IT? What a bunch of Muppets.

We arrived via a delicious pub lunch which set the tone for the week. 

Not of course without incident. Could my life ever be without incident? No sadly not. My mission was to put Daisy and Kitty on a train leaving from York station at 8am on Thursday morning. They were to go to Kings Cross and make their way to Waterloo where they were to connect onto a train to Poole where they would go to the registry office to watch their father marry. The blessing would follow on the Saturday where they were both bridesmaids. We had the tickets, I checked they had the tickets, but due to some mothering insouciance I placed the tickets in Kitty's hand bag nestling next to her MP3 player, book, spare £60 and DS. No one could leave without such a bag could they?

 Well we were up at 5am and out by 5.40am, it should have been 5.30am but Kitty had a bad hair moment. 45min's into the journey Kitty whispers something to Daisy, 

Daisy shrieks "STOP THE CAR" It is only now that we all realise Kitty left her bag hanging on the banister. I bang my head on the wheel and cry. Months of planning lay in tatters. I turn the car around to go back, it is obvious we will not make it now and so  I decide they can get a train later. My mother who came with me decides they should go, so I drive. 

At the station we are told that the best way for them to travel is via Reading and Winchester it costs £105. The train leaves in 7 min's they get on it, get a cab just in time to the registry office. My mother paid, I cried, Kitty cried. The original cost was £40. 

Today, less than a week later Kitty asked if we could go shopping for her spring clothes in Zara!!! God give me strength.

I found it hard to unwind on holiday but returning home I have slept deeply, no Emin to fidget and  no Lelya bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning, they are having fun in Istanbul instead.

The house from the rear

Gull's are everywhere. Although remarkably nicer than there St Ives cousins

Lots of beautiful houses. Sadly ours was pretty grim inside

One for Materfamilias knits

Tide out

Cute streets & houses

Neighbours, spot the whale bones

The house from the front

Fossil hunting

Where I would like to live

The view from here

Tide in

Blackthorn everywhere

The weather was amazing, not a heat wave but glorious blue skies. It is a wonderful place to stay and I found an Amonite and a Belamite. We are daughters of a Paleontologist and it is in our blood I guess.

Whilst Leyla is away I am luxuriating on her Mac PC what an awesome piece of equipment it is. The rest of the photos are on Flickr.

That's it I have had enough

Once again I have endured the ritual humiliation that masquerades as an interview. I failed...again. For my own sanity I will stop, I will take a step back and focus on myself for a while. Two more days and the cobwebs will be blown away by icy cold east winds. As I meander the cold shore line, I will dig deep and find my wit, my joie de vivre and my ability to post more than once in a blue moon.

Utagawa Kuniyoshi

A Harvard law professor and sometime television presenter, Miller discovered Kuniyoshi in London while appearing as one of the sparring barristers in the popular 1980s television series Hypotheticals. "I had been impressed by some prints I'd seen in a friend's apartment and I wandered into a London gallery in a casual way. I looked through several hundred prints, and the ones I responded to were all by Kuniyoshi – they had extraordinary power expressed through colour."
This first encounter led to a 30‑year obsession that saw Miller build up the biggest Kuniyoshi collection in the world – which he is now giving to the British Museum through its not-for-profit organisation American Friends – and which forms the basis of the Royal Academy's exhibition.
Now, through Professor Miller's gift, we have the last and most vibrant flowering of this extraordinary tradition in its richest and most pristine form. But why didn't he choose a US institution for this magnificent gesture? "I've always wanted to see the collection exhibited and researched, and the British Museum, unlike American museums, doesn't sell or trade donated works.
"In London my collection will be permanently available for research and viewing. And as a scholar myself, I really appreciate that."

more here

I managed to catch this last week, really bloody brilliant. I will be paying it a second visit after Easter. Catch it if you can

The view from here

I was until today drained. Emotionally Physically and Mentally.

Emotionally

Last week I embarked on lengthy negotiations that the UN would have been proud of with Emin. At the heart of our relationship lies the the text book problem of love. Emin loves me unconditionally. He is able to do this because he is able to control the fabric of our life most of the time. For such love he would like 100% commitment, the kind that means I do all the housework and generally bow to most domestic demands. As a colleague once remarked many years ago after glancing over at a sample of his hand writing, he is a "Domestic Tyrant" This can put intolerable pressure on our relationship, add to this melting pot of friction my kids and relations can be strained.

We have come through 12 very turbulent years, but my defense mechanism at all times is to ration affection and love. My love I guess is conditional with Emin. He hurts, I withdraw. This pattern has existed since the beginning when he hurt mine so badly I learnt to use it as a form of control.

So negotiations centered around my commitment to our future. Whilst I often ache to be alone he want to spend his life with someone, unluckily for me I am the 'chosen one' I have agreed that Yes I love him and yes I will always be there, but he has to remember that I have an opinion and I will exercise my right to differ. This rendition is woefully over simplified but this took most of last weekend to resolve.

Physically

We moved schools. six years of detritus had to be packed along with all that comes with running an art department. That we did it is a miracle. That my assistant is so organised I am forever grateful. That we unpacked is amazing. That I am physically knackered should come as no surprise.

I have reached an impasse concerning my job. I like the trappings and the autonomy but I really dislike the attitude of the management team as to my worth. I therefore decided to apply for one last job.

Mentally

The job is at my daughters school. I know I can do it and it would be my dream job but as with Emin if I admit it, I know it will really damage me when I do not get it, yet I know that this will make me appear flippant and so I probably will not get it.

That I have an interview is a measure of how well I can sell myself. I really wish I could do the same at my interview. It is on Wednesday. If I succeed good, If I fail I will cope, It is absolutely my last interview. I will hunker down and take from what I have, what I can. I can no longer go through this incredibly draining experience again.

I finally missed you all on Friday, which was the first chance I had to draw breath. I am still off line at work, and I am having to tap way at Kitty's lap top whilst she is at her dad's. So I will be 'posti lite' for a while.

I am way from next Saturday, for a week. We are staying in Robin Hoods Bay if any one wants to drop by I will see you there.

The view from here ....off line

The network shuts down in 10 min's. I will only be able to post sporadically from home.
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.

Pop goes Paris: Andy Warhol at the Grand Palais

In 1963, the art collector and taxi-firm founder Robert Scull thought the Marilyn treatment should be applied to his wife. Warhol accepted the commission, pushing Ethel Scull into an automatic ID-photo machine and forcing her to loosen up by telling her jokes. After a tour of booths and 300 passport snaps, he made a vast portrait of 36 images. "She felt she looked alive rather than dead on the canvas," Cueff said

I have seen two Warhol exhibitions this year, if nothing else he brings out the competitive streak in curators because each one I have seen appears to have as much time spent on presentation as was spent creating the art in the first place. This is not a criticism, I have always enjoyed his art more because it lends itself so well to such a wide range of visual interpretations. He is Art Teacher Gold.

Sadly I doubt I will see this one unless I pop! over for the day.