Art Diary: Week Ending 22nd November

16/11/2014

I went out for a couple of walks and even did a bit watering in an attempt to get back to some kind of normality. I didn’t feel too bad during the day, although I still spent a lot of it resting on the bed, but felt considerably worse in the evening so that plan didn’t work!

During the day I scanned another sketch book.

.

17/11/2014

I woke up feeling a bit better even though I was feeling much worse last night. I spent the day writing with too little blogging in the evening – or was it too little: I may well cut down on the false pretenses of my artistic life on the internet and get back to a modicum of reality.

.

18/11/2014

Still ill, any improvement being slight. I scanned a large sketch book of drawings, managed a tiny bit of blogging and spent my rest of the time laying on the bed feeling very sorry for myself!

.

19/11/2014

The general malaise continues with me scanning one more sketch book, producing less than a handful of digital art works and a miniscule bit of blogging. After this I sat downstairs with my wife and subsequently spent the entire evening watching a film – the first film I have seen all year!

Landscape Painted While The Artist Was Feeling Ill

Landscape Painted While The Artist Was Feeling Ill

.

20/11/2014

I went to to the doctor again. He still insists that all my problems can be attributed to a viral infection and chronic rhinitis – he did actually give me a course of antibiotics but told me not to use them. Once back in my study I scanned another sketch book of drawings: they are quite big books with 124 pages in each. Nothing much else was done and I spent the evening watching another film.

.

21/11/2014

I scanned the last of the sketch books I set myself to scan this week and some other work on the computers but as I am as weak as a kitten nothing much else was done. Also I do so wish I could get my appetite back!

My illness has prompted an evaluation of priorities. I am (permanently or temporarily – I am not sure which) fed up with my digital creative life; so all being well I am back in my studio from next week. I may even postpone the bit of photocopying I have left to do (a couple of hundred loose pages – plus some folders of notebook scribbles I wasn’t planning to do this year anyway).

,

22/11/2014

I went out shopping with my wife and sister even though I didn’t feel like it. I am actually feeling slightly better even though I still have no appetite or energy.

Posted in Uncategorized, Diary, Art, Computing, Photography, Writing, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

16/11/2007

This was my last day on the Spanish galleon. We sailed into port (with two glasses each side) as the moon turned into a sickle. I had spent a lot of my caterpillar crawling time trying to find a piece of string but still managed to trip over the words I had written earlier. The mummified cats had already lined up to dance the cancan – Ali held on tight as the last wave went by.

.

17/11/2007

The start of a new snail person era. I felt tired as I was peeled of the backing paper and spread on the arena floor. I picked flowers and planted myriads of model Earths while the sellotape clock kept ticking. The voice in the sky was learning a foreign language and the police came to the water rats who live next door. I raised the flag and lowered my eyes.

.

18/11/2007

Large fish were hunting for small men as the stair rods came down like old people in wheel chairs. Having several sacks of time in my hands I sat in the Red Indian shed chanting and moving my peace pipe pencil in complex spirals. The lost tribes walked round aimlessly in the prison yard. I went out to unlock the door and then went out to lock it again – having never gone inside.

.

19/11/2007

I walked to the paint draped town for the very last time, pulling behind me a horse and cart. The dungeon man and I took the boxes downstairs after I gave the puzzled fairy my flowers. On the walk home I invented a new form of mathematics so that every sum now ends in zero. The redundant fly and I contemplated the future while riding a hump backed whale called the Flying Saucer.

.

20/11/2007

I went to the seaside, I had the customary bucket over my head. I got very wet walking to the solid rock ships and I dropped in on a friendly white witch to dry out in her vapours. The railway stations were talking among themselves and the train went in and out without being noticed. I tied a polecat to a stick and waited for another.

.

21/11/2007

The morning was wreathed in buttercups – hands were removed from breast pockets to grasp them. The ladder leant against nothing and cast man like shadows. I pulled the room apart to form a field and walked out in it until the weather (still walking on stilts) changed and the rain man danced. I danced with a lady who had a mobile phone for a head.

.

22/11/2007

The alarm went off inside a marsh mallow; Poppy, the dog, took off her pyjamas while I made a World War Three sentry box in the bed. The caves were quiet and I roasted memories in cans strung on string. Pipe Man visited and we held up the traffic in the kitchen while June, my wife, held up the stagecoach in the parlour. I wore a skirt for the evening.

Posted in Diary, Poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Weekly Diary

16/11/2014

I followed the lady who was leading a unicorn through a field of white corn. She said she was the queen of the icebergs and only spoke to sailors – I couldn’t swim so knocked a hole in a brick wall and looked through it. I found the only thing the wall enclosed was itself and offered to help hold up the porch which Scarlet O’Hara walked along in Gone With The Wind – I would have continued if the Steel Claw hadn’t fused the mains, becoming invisible and emptying the fish pond filter in the process. Wanting to make a new start after my return from the second Trojan War I decided to put my childhood in a box and then seal it; however it escaped while June was searching for the packaging tape, instead we filled the box with obscure sounds, flashes of light and shoes that hurt my feet.

.

17/11/2014

I had to find my way round fallen masonry after two semidetached houses had collided while reentering the Earth’s atmosphere and then went downstairs to eat a breakfast of stardust and petrified waves crashing on an isolated beach. June went out on caterpillar track skis while I stayed inside to turn rows of dots into an early form of landscape (the sky is a series of minute tears, too small to see with the naked eye and trees are the spaces once occupied by vowels in words). A letter that came in the post stating that my life was a series of concentric circles but didn’t say if I was moving in or out – or even how far I had got. My head felt full of Crimean War bandages as June came back holding a lamp. Her shopping had already begun to form bonds in the orphanage of her bag.

.

18/11/2014

I woke thinking all existence is Muzak and resolved to make my own sounds (as soon as I am well enough). I wiped my face with a red squirrel tail I had grown during the night and then climbed down the drainpipe instead of the stairs – June was simultaneously climbing an ivy clad wall to place a digital alarm clock in a disused birds nest and the head of an examination board was hiding in a large clump of bamboo waiting to pounce on any incorrectly answered questions that walked out into that part of the garden (I was secretly glad that I had found time to plant some open questions right at the top). I found out later that the examiner was a distant cousin to Timur the lame and had a collection of skull shaped bells strung round his waist – from a distance he sounded like lambs gamboling in a field.

.

19/11/2014

I noticed the bedside cabinet had grown wings during the night and made sure I shut the window before going downstairs with dragon claws instead of hands. June was almost completely covered by a light grey cloud and was letting Poppy, who had metamorphosed into a dark grey wolf, out into the garden. The fish had become little gold coins and I briefly thought about wading out into immediate wealth before realising that my dragon feet would tear the pond liner. When I went back inside the house was reduced to black and white and June was a charcoal drawing; I had to be careful when walking by in case I rubbed part of her out. Knowing that the front door would lead into a medieval mason’s hut I stayed indoors with the eight arms of a friendly spider wrapped round my neck.

.

20/11/2014

I was still too unwell for my early morning journey and looked at the small figures clinging to tree branches in what has quickly become an out of control garden. I like to think of weeds as strands of a laughing girl’s hair and sat on my chair by the window as if I was seal and it was a polar bear. The sun would have risen behind a fairy tale castle if the sky wasn’t covered in grey cloud and the spectre I pulled from a Rupert Bear annual from the year between 1963 and 1964 hadn’t pushed a corkscrew into the sodden earth and pulled out the carefully hidden cork. I went to the doctor again, he had shrunk further since my last appointment and was preparing for the scene where he gets attacked by his own cat.

.

21/11/2014

The man who spoke from inside swirling blue clouds told me he had left a message inside my head which he would come back later to read out. I had a good look to see if I could discover it first but found only a guitar I never learnt to play properly and a small ornament which I broke while trying to protect it from breaking. I still can’t work properly and instead pretended I could change into a candle flame and then into a blue wick – the sky is really the inside of someone else’s head and all that we ever see are precast shadows. Like most days this week June went to town carrying a shopping bag full of black ravens and then came back with one full of white doves. I secretly knew this was an illusion and the same birds went down and back (we really only have one shopping bag in life).

.

22/11/2014

June and I joined a caravan train to the big town in the desert. She dressed in names and I dressed in numbers (I was taught to never call anyone names) and we rode many legged camels into a rain chandelier distance, the thoughts between us frozen in time. We met my sister as a woolly mammoth frozen in ice and glided into the warmth on woodlice legs. I was keeping my trousers up with a narrow band of distant horizon and had to sit down quickly when the trees lost their leaves and an army of little men got larger. June hadn’t noticed anything untoward and was burrowing like a star nosed mole through rows of brightly coloured clothes. My sister, as the flagship of the Dutch fleet during the Battle of Lowestoft in 1665 couldn’t quite make up her mind.

Posted in Diary, Poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

No Art Diary: Week Ending 15th November

09/11/2014

Today was a repeat of yesterday with the weather not very good and me not feeling well enough to do any gardening. Two more sketch books scanned and a little more computer art completed.

Silver Sun

Silver Sun

.

10/11/2014

I finally went to the doctor as my cough worsened and I continue to feel extremely unwell. I now have a different nasal spray (which hopefully works) and antihistamine tablets plus sterilised sea water of all things which I have to learn to rinse through my nostrils. The doctor didn’t think I have an infection just a severe cold interacting with my chronic rhinitis. Whatever it is I haven’t felt this ill since getting chicken pox in 2007. All I did today was scan another sketch book and a tiny amount of blogging.

.

11/11/2014

I felt even worse today and spent most of my time in bed. I did only one computer art work all day and a very modest amount of blogging.

.

12/11/2014

I am still feeling very poorly although there may be a slight improvement. I did a tiny bit of work on the computer but spent much of my time laying on the bed.

.

13/11/2014

The slight improvement didn’t last and I am now feeling worse again. By willpower alone I managed to scan two large sketch books.

.

14/11/2014

I feel terrible, all I want to do is stay in bed. However I did manage to scan a couple of large sketch books.

.

15/11/2014

I am still feeling like nothing on earth although I accompanied my wife on the two occasions she walked Poppy, the dog. I managed to scan two large sketch books but precious little else.

Posted in Art, Computing, Diary, Painting, Photography, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A Much Earlier Weekly Diary

09/11/2007

I dragged myself out of the peat bog but realised that the art clock hadn’t managed to escape from the submarine resting on the bottom of the wine coloured ocean. I pulled the rope but only bells rang. The frog behind the counter smiled as I placed more swine before pearls. I walked the dry land while the arrows flew across an ancient night star called……

.

10/11/2007

It was the last day at work for Megan the young bullock who dreamed of being a head waiter in a five star restaurant. We embraced at the lights went out and a canal boat full of refugees from the future pushed its way through the concrete floor we had prepared for a returning Second World War bomber – it had four and a half engines.

.

11/11/2007

I had to dodge the showers when the winged dog and I returned from our sojourn in the sunken lands. I finished the breakfast cereal (a survivor from the gunfight at the OK corral) and went to watch the stream of Danaes falling from chlorophyll coloured sky boats. I turned the page and started a new chapter among the ten green bottles – soon there was only one.

.

12/11/2007

This is my last week of forming part of the floral pattern of a plush international carpet. Seagulls called within the hanging bells as I trudged to the shops across the solidified lake made from facile facial expressions. I briefly held up the Earth while Atlas visited his mother. I then dug a hole in the past and buried myself in it.

.

13/11/2007

I felt very sorry for myself as I had to climb out of the hayrick with grass stalks instead of eyebrows. I noticed a periscope revolving in the sitting room but didn’t think any more of it. Having licked a skyscraper window amount of stamps I discovered that the smile at the bottom of the page was false.

.

14/11/2007

Today was a comma sort of day and I didn’t see a full stop anywhere. The sonic screwdriver was in my hand during the sandwich filling time and I glove puppeted the walk home. The afternoon was puff puff and “Pam of the evening” showed me to how dial up the Knight Templars to describe the visions I had of the lady in the pink petticoat sky.

.

15/11/2007

I was out in the morning disguised as a walking canoe. I waltzed through the rapids and tangoed down the waterfall. I then came home inside the world’s biggest chicken. I had to pace the deck for a couple of hours before unrolling on a honeymoon carpet. The evening was shorter than anticipated and a stick of seaside rock came through the door as a surprise.

Posted in Diary, Poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Weekly Diary

09/11/2014

The day started with a Roman legion of emperor penguins marching up the bed I felt extremely reluctant to leave. I had already woken up in the night to find Eighteenth Century engineers building the world’s first iron bridge on my temple. June was sleeping like a dolphin with one eye open and music was emanating from a cloud that was moving up and down instead of across. I pushed the button on the dog’s nose before finally getting up and walked downstairs with an ancient battlefield dragged across my shoulders. I couldn’t work outside even though the ethereal beings I had planted as philosophical premises were coming alive. As the night straightened its black tights I set up the keyboard in my mouth and blew on it.

.

10/11/2014

I was feeling extremely unwell and went to the doctor riding a rhinoceros with superpowers. I found the doctor to be a very small man who sat on a very large book in the corner of the room. Apparently the over big tome did not contain any information at all but did keep his feet several feet off the floor. He gave me the smallest tablet in the world and, what looked to me like, a gothic torture chamber of preparations – one of which I had to place up my nose like an imitation snake in an early Tarzan movie. I took a very slow walk home, overhearing a lady at the bus stop state that she had spent the night with a cello last played by Pablo Casals – I would have danced a rain dance in response if it wasn’t already raining.

.

11/11/2014

I had been breathing in dead leaves all night and woke with prickles like a hedgehog; I thought to myself that I should have been hibernating and gave the Dominican friar who was scratching our door instead of his chest a tip. After feeding the animals I went back to bed where I built myself a French foreign legion fort and got covered by a sand storm until the afternoon when the patter of flying fish woke me from a Poseidon dream where I had been present at the birth of the very first talking horse. I would have asked for its thoughts on the short length of Hadrian’s Wall I was wearing as a trench coat but it preferred discussing philosophy with a first cousin of Socrates who had emerged from the animal painted cave wall for that very purpose.

.

12/11/2014

I felt the tide come in from over forty miles away and sat in the sand clock chair most of the morning. I was coughing like rain clouds blown over the supine countryside on a very brisk wind and felt that the weather forecast could only get worse. I watched a procession of masked people bring an isolated area of heat and light to my bedside as I reflected on the healing qualities of the dark. I was about to write a monologue to perform when another person entered the room. I thought their eyes looked liked petrels skirting the ocean surface and their mouth was a sunken galleon where the treasure is never found. I rose to stare at the wall, which promptly yawned and looked at the curtain which was showing a thin stripe of outside on its far edge.

.

13/11/2014

Before leaving one dream for another I spoke to the spiny anteater who was selling newspapers on a street in London in the Nineteen Sixties. I told him I was a superhero and could fly and was a bit disappointed when he replied that he would never need to – I told him the news he was selling was out of date and walked off. I am still as unwell as dragon’s breath and painted an orange sky in my head under which a yacht sailed away from one unknown port and headed for another. I first found it difficult to work and then found myself in gaol with Casanova planning our escape across the rooftops of Venice. It was easier for him as he knew what he was being imprisoned for. I waited for the dry ice effect to engage and dressed as a tree frog in the South American rain forest.

.

14/11/2014

I crawled out from the mountain I had been sleeping under, fed the animals food and myself information and then went back under the mountain – although in the interim it had grown legs and was flexing its muscles prior to tackling a twelve mile hike. I noticed that the man who started the race was wearing clock dials instead of eyes but as they were bereft of hands they would not have been of any use in the end. I would have laughed but the bank vole headed people were able to speak several languages which as always I found rather intimidating. Despite this I still unfurled my banner and charged a multifarious selection of enemy before I started to feel even more unwell and had to retire to bed yet again.

.

15/11/2014

Opening the curtains I saw a besieging army in a vast ring around the house. I have always wanted to be the filling in a doughnut and placed two small gargoyles each side of the bedroom window. The summer valley in my head was feeling the cold as a blue whale flew overhead using wings from a Messerschmitt 323 which had got lost while migrating. I followed June and Poppy around the nearest playing fields breathing outside air for the first time in a week while pulling the spirit ancestors of a race of octopi from underneath my rabbit warren hat. The landscape looked like a theatre set and I imagined the furtive rehearsals of tiny thespians; most of which were dressed in medieval costumes with the nearest to me having a hat that looked like an ice cream cone.

Posted in Diary, Poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Art Diary: Week Ending 8th November

02/11/2014

I never did any gardening: I am under the weather and the weather is under itself – raining for much of the day. I scanned one more sketch book and did more computer art, although possibly not as much as I thought I would.

.

03/11/2014

I still haven’t caught up with my gardening jobs as the weather continues to be inclement. I scanned two more sketch books and did a bit more computer art; this plus blogging in the evening sums up the day.

.

04/11/2014

I went out into the garden to find the fish pond almost empty of water; this discovery was followed by a catalogue of mishaps as I attempted to refill the pond and clean the filter etc. I finally got into my study in the afternoon and scanned a further two more sketch books but only did a little computer art.

Landscape In The Living Room

Landscape In The Living Room

.

05/11/2014

Still feeling unwell but had to spend another morning in the garden as the first proper frost of the autumn is forecast tonight so I have to get the rest of my plants that have been summering outside under cover. After this I scanned another two sketchbooks and did a bit of computer art – not a huge amount as it turned out. I didn’t do a great deal of work in the evening either.

Adam And Eve

Adam And Eve

.

06/11/2014

I was out in the morning and spent the afternoon fiddling about on the computers: writing, drawing/painting, tinkering with my web site and uploading photographs.

.

07/11/2014

If anything I am feeling more unwell than I did with my cough getting worse and I now feel extremely ill in myself. I scanned another sketch book and produced a very modest amount of computer art.

Rock Of Humanity

Rock Of Humanity

.

08/11/2014

The weather is bad and I still feel poorly so I spent all my time indoors. I scanned a further two sketch books and did more computer art.

Man Smoking A Cigar

Man Smoking A Cigar

Posted in Art, Computing, Diary, Painting, Photography, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment