When shopping online does work

A recent post on Out of the Bag highlighted the seductive, but oh so flawed practice of Internet shopping. My fingers have been burnt so many times I have all but ceased on what was an often fruitless exercise in anything other than deflated dreams. I like to feel the weight of the fabric, I am very tactile when it comes to buying anything remotely sartorial, I often chide Leyla for walking into a shop and touching everything, only to find I do that too. One particular minefield when buying online has to be shoes. At what point can you be sure they will fit? And yet curiously I have had the most success online with shoes than most other purchases. The trick is to know your brand and stick to it like glue. I lover PF Fliers for pumps as well as Converse, the sizes stay the same making it easier to buy online.

Last summer was saved. really saved by a very basic pair of Fly Flot mules. I was not keen to move on to boots in case they were not sized the same but as luck would have it Pavers have a shop in York and so I could try them on. I then bought these online, only just the right side of orthopedic Blackpool Landlady I know, but with my feet, if the shoe fits....

They are much nicer in the flesh so to speak, they do gape a bit at the top but the shaped curve does not make it so obvious, I must be the only fatfoot who does not have cankles! But what I love is they have just a little height enough to ease the pain in my heel. They were not my first choice but I came late to this party. Not the next though, so later this year when their boots get restocked I will be more on the button.

So with spring ahead I am now tempted by these.

The perfect work shoe to wear with skirts I hope.

I am today wearing a black dress/tunic form COS, (see top piccy) purchased yesterday before meeting Lucy to see Richard II (mmm 3/5) For me it was serendipity, there was only one on the rail in my size, and it was in the sale, (as was the grey cardie I bought on impulse before the bloody sale!) an otherwise itchy combo of wool and angora it's really lovely and not at all itchy, which is more than I can say about their trousers. 5 pairs I tried on, and my normally reliable source dried up.

But back to the grey cardie, yes, I know I said no cardies, but it was lovely, what I really want now is a rich clotted cream jersey top with a scoop neck and 3 buttons down the front, I used to own some old men's flannel undies that had that and I loved them, now I can't find anything silky enough to wear under a jumper which has the desired buttons.

It is on my wish list.

The view from there to here

So yes, I have returned, we made it there, and I have come back infection free. A small miracle I think.
I have painted a lot, and I have read a lot, I have even become quite bored a lot, but that was my fault as I went as per usual woefully unprepared for the extreme dip in temperature and prolonged darkness once the sun dropped like stone from the sky.
It was 70% sunny and warm, but the other 30% was, I have to say, verging on Old Testament biblical in it's extremeness. The house sits high up on the converging points of three peaks, so the clouds scud at some considerable speed across the sky and the rain lashes down in torrents with enormous flashes of lightning. I don't know why, but Mediterranean thunder storms are quite hairy at night.
I managed to take some more photographs which I will post next week. Plus I survived a really crap head cold, which was pretty much obligatory considering how busy I was before the end of term.
But more importantly I painted, nearly every day. nothing special, but I have defiantly moved forward for my project, which somehow has morphed into a landscape project. But what landscapes. I did not have the emotional connection that I have with Scotland, but I have enjoyed the challenge so far and have come home with numerous ideas to explore. So this was the view nearly 3 weeks ago, balmy days picking flowers. My life was made very simple as Leyla went to school each day, so all I had to do was cook. The garden needed very little attention so despite lugging very heavy wellies, I did not go into the fields much.
The one down side is that because a wall is being built at Easter, the extra planting has to wait until next year, so despite assurances to the contrary we will be going back next winter...Joy!
Back home and the gales have followed, going home last night my scarf was woefully inadequate and so I dived into TKMaxx, and fell serendipitously on these Scottish lambswool gloves and the softest cashmere moss green eternity scarf.
Sometimes it is the small things that pep up my day, because I sure as hell did not want to be back at work.

I do have plenty to look forward to though as I keep on writing here, but I need to keep writing about it to convince myself that life is good.
So, I am attending lectures at the Tate Modern ..Good, but have to write 50000 words by May...Bad!
I have some great ideas for painting..Good, but teaching keeps getting in the way ...Bad!
But best of all I am going to Madrid in February, and guess what? There is a HUGE art fair on at the same time ..Good... so I have my carrot to survive, and I need it as there are 3 parents evenings in the next 5 weeks..Bad very bad...

And one more thing, I really, really miss writing. I wrote not a jot for 10 days, I thought my head would go *BANG!* with the muddled mess backing up. So in the end I wrote and wrote and wrote, all on scraps of old paper. I essentially annotated my paintings, but boy did it feel good, really good.
I should really just bite the bullet and get a computer to use, but in a way I do feel that absence from gazing at a screen forces me to evaluate and appreciate. I don't see reading blogs as wasteful at all, I have learnt so much you would not believe. But I do think I need a break occasionally, but thank you all, to any poor soul who wades through the meanderings of an increasingly old and addled brain. And especially to those who comment, into what seems like an empty vacuum. I do read them, I long to chase you up, but this effing job just keeps getting in the way. Yes, that same effing job that pays for those glorious holidays. me complain?

The view from here

tomorrow morning will be this. Please, please,please. I just hope it continues to rain rather than snow. if the weather allows it we will take of tonight and land in warmer climes. And yes that is the sea.
I managed to make a bit of progress with my painting on Wednesday, so much so that when I got out some previous work I appreciated just how far I had come. Sadly I know from experience that the holiday will change me, and so instead of picking up where I left off I'm going to start afresh. So I have packed away the oil bars, it is watercolor time now and then I have to come back and try and paint with just my oils.
We are away for quite sometime and so I have books galore to keep me going, mostly on curating, as well as articles from back copies of Artreview. I also have a rather worthy tome on Caravaggio borrowed from mother and finally one of my all time favourite Christmas presents, a signed copy of The Incredible Human Journey by Dr Alice Roberts. She came to Daisy's college to lecture and so Daisy managed to get her to sign the book. I was SO touched, you can't believe how touched I was. So that too will be read. I think the woman is just amazing.

I have not left any post dated pieces, I've been just so busy, and have had little time to play around up town. I'm looking forward already to the New Year in terms of college. which moves to the Tate Modern, (hence my curating research) lots of plays. including Richard II and One Man Two Guvnors, a huge David Hockney retrospective, and Madrid. All this before Easter. so that should keep away the winter blues.

Oh and Kasabian? AMAZING really just AMAZING



So

MERRY CHRISTMAS

&

HAPPY NEW YEAR

LOVE FROM

ALISON

XXX

Last Friday seems so, so far away,even as I sit here I have no recollection, oh, wait, slowly it is coming back to me.
The original plan was for Leyla and I to go and see Noises Off at the Old Vic. Then Lucy joined us, and then Leyla decided a school disco would be more fun, and so then Kitty said she would come, and then Lucy had to have an operation and then Kitty had to work her shift, and then Leyla was banned from the disco, and then Leyla came to see the play with me. Got that?

So we went up town and went to John Lewis, picked up the camera I had bought for Daisy, and got mother some perfume. We zipped in and out of COS, wallet still intact and grabbed some food from Vapiano, before running down to Waterstones to pick up a couple of books for Leyla. Then back to the Old Vic. Noises Off is just Brilliant. I laughed and laughed. Just as well really.

Saturday, up at the crack of dawn, as was Kitty, who was on a 7am shift. Got the train to Kings Cross. NO, stop. Got on the WRONG train to Kings Cross, not once, but twice. Seriously thick as pig shit sometimes. I have lived in this city for twenty effing five years how do I do it?
So got there in the end. I too needed a book but nowhere sells the ones I want, I gave up and bought a newspaper instead and then sat next to someone eating sunflower seeds. Moved.
Got to York on a glorious sunny day. Forgot my camera! Can you believe it? I went and sat in a church for half an hour as mother was busy. I know I'm a walking contradiction, but I might not believe in God but he does do great architecture and All Saints in York is one of the very best with outstandingly beautiful stained glass windows. So mustered up, I went forth and had a very relaxing weekend, it was over in the blink of an eye, I travelled back to London, got home and sat in the bathroom sobbing. I miss Daisy more than I knew. She is a lot happier and so a joy to be with again.
I am now so not packed for a holiday I begin Friday night. And in stark contrast to the highbrow culture I have participated in this month I am going to see Kasabian at the O2 tomorrow.
Oh, and I have spent today painting. This is a good thing, I have worked away my demons and my watercolors are packed if nothing else is! Sanity saved.

Sometimes it comes good in the end

Some time ago I wrote about how much better my purchasing had become. From my mistakes I made some rules and give or take a wobble or two they have come good. My rule to stick to buying jumpers not cardies has paid dividends, not least because a pair of Pegged Zara trousers form last year has suddenly become wearable. Last year I wore them once, I couldn't find thin enough socks to wear with them consequently they rode up around my fat calf muscles and became so irritating I gave up. For some reason now they are fine. Two narrow skirts too have become worn after languishing unloved for over a year which is why I'm not panicking too much about what to wear with this impulse buy. The skirt is very high waisted so a normal length cardie drowns it. The dress on it's own is lovely but the top is so pale and made of a very fine stretchy jersey, (clingy) so I become quite self conscious and feel the need to cover it up a little. I have decided to be patient, it will come good in the end. I may try a yellow cardie, with it as yellow and grey are one of my most favourite combinations.

It was my last class of the term last night, a large cohort of students are unhappy with the teaching and during the group session last night we tentatively voiced the lack of direction. We of course were archly manipulated into seeing the small steps we had made as something grander. So I am pegging my hopes on some serious philosophical discussions when we are based in the Tate Modern next term. Of course after two weeks I will be bitching about that too!

Moomin Love

In the room euphemistically known as my studio, or resource room, I have photographs ripped from magazines pasted onto the wall. Half the room is devoted to art and all that inspires me, colour, shape and form all collide together. The other half is devoted to rooms I would love to live in. The wall of images sits behind the kettle, so as I wait to make a coffee I gaze longingly at the achingly beautiful spaces. I am ever ready for that sudden windfall of money, ready to shove a handful of clippings under the architects so they can conjure up my dream home. Pride of place now goes to this photo spread from this weeks Saturday Times supplement. What's not to love and covet?

I remember reading a Moomin book when I was young, I loved it so much I bought another, but for some reason it was impossible to read. It was like the first one was so perfect I couldn't move on. I had the same problem with C.S.Lewis. Still, I love the characters and now gaze longingly at this studio whilst the kettle boils.

The view from last night

I took these photographs 2 years ago at The Frieze Art Fair. I loved them then, I love them now, I love the controlled chaos of moving ink across a photograph. I love the colours and the strange juxtaposition of textures. Last night I finally made it to the Gerhard Richter retrospective.

I had almost forgotten that I had booked to go to a talk by one of the Gerhard Richter curators at the Tate Modern. I had wondered that despite loving his work if I would ever make it to the show. I am so glad I did. I used my student discount and managed to hear an excellent talk about how the show was curated, plus see the exhibition twice both before and after. I found that a perfect way of doing it. Once with no preconceived ideas and once with a lot more knowledge that forced me to look at work I had previously not really paid much attention to.

It was strange to go out on a Monday night, but the effort was rewarded with this stunning view over the Thames to St Paul's