Brrr, brr, brrrrrr

It's mighty cold in my studio today. Fingers slightly numb, nose red and on the verge of running, toes...dead I think. I may have to lop them off and chuck them, mmm, that's going to prove difficult when I head to the Loft Party in Dec for a spot of dancing. No toes, just stumps for feet. I'll never manage it. Can you purchase prosthetic toes? Anyone, anyone......nope, okay, I'll leave the toes then. Layering, now that's a key word at this time of year, especially in this house. It's too expensive to have the heat on all day, and it's too dangerous to kill and skin a bear, not that I'm into fur, but for the sake of animal rights arguments, let's just imagine that it was cool to do such a thing. How'd you go about it eh? What do the eskimos do in such times when they're absolutely baltic and feel like abandoning life and curling up in their nice cosy igloos? I could learn a thing or too about temperature extremes from those boys. At least I have a roof over my head....count your blessings as they say, one by one. I could just bore the bear to death, maybe put on a few Jim Reeves numbers or Val Doonigan, that would do the trick. He'd be driven to sleep by the sheer tedium wafting out of my ipod. I'd seize my opportunity, unzip his fur coat and do an runner. That'll learn you, you big overgrown teddy.
Ahhh..delirium is setting in now. Must work, must do something creative that involves cardiovascular activity. I need heat!

Listen to this!

If you're wanting a little light relief, listen to this....it's priceless. It's Stanley Kubrick's 2001 A Space Odyssey performed by a school orchestra.

What are you doing?

What are you doing, right now, apart from reading this? I recommend you take about 30 seconds, stop what you're doing, and breathe in, a good deep breath. Concentrate on the beginning of the breath, the ending and most importantly, the space in between. Do that 3 times (minimum) and see if you can stretch the spaces in between, but not too much that it's uncomfortable. Now open your eyes. Has anything changed? I mean, do you feel like you're present where you are, observing your surroundings with new intensity. No love, what the hell are you spouting on about! If that's what you're thinking then I reckon your mind was all over the place and you found it almost impossible to reign those thoughts in. It is difficult, especially if you're standing on the tube, breathing into some big sweaty blokes armpit. It's takes a bloody great imagination to escape that one. Phew! But, and it is a very achievable but, it is possible and something I think we all should do occasionally, like pelvic floors, for those of you who've had kids. You're supposed to remember to do them, but days pass by and it's not until you're running about like a mad woman after your kids and you nearly wee yourself that it suddenly dawns on you, I need to do my pelvic floors! Well, I prescribe a dose of breathing, 3 times a day for the next....forever. It's all about the NOW baby, living in the present moment. I think I've gone on about this before, but I truly believe in it. We can't live in the present, we shouldn't be limited by our past, but we can fully embrace and be present in the now. As the wise Tolle said "you can always cope with the Now, but you can never cope with the future - nor do you have to. The answer, the strength, the right action, or the source will be there when you need it, not before, not after".

I've found this very helpful when it comes to being creative. I simply follow the exercise, open my eyes and the creative ideas come spilling out of me like some sort of burst dam. No, not really, but it does help to clear the mind, focus you, and I suppose it makes sense that when the environment is right for creativity, it will flow naturally. There you go, problems solved.

Some new work

I think I promised I'd upload some of the new paintings I did for the show in Aberfeldy, so I'd better keep my work eh!

They're all based on family. The first one is called 'Portrush'. From left to right, the leg with the red and blue socks belongs to my brother, then me, my cousin Jill with the scrunched up face and the little girl in the dark blue dungarees is Jill's sister Lindsay. The mini in the background is my Mum's. I have such fond memories of those days, down at the caravan park for a couple of weeks during the summer. Those were the days when the sun shone in Northern Ireland. We'd have the run of the caravan park, making friends and buying 5p ice-pops. Then chips in the evening with half a litre of vinegar and some salt. Then getting our teeth brushed and heading off to our bunk-beds at the back of the caravan. We'd be calling out to each other in true Waltons style, "good-night John-boy","good-night Mary Ellen", "good-night Jim Bob". I mean, who calls their kid Jim Bob? And that's how we'd fall asleep, annoying the life out our parents, doing their heads in with our constant call and respond. That was when life was simple. The only tough decisions you had to make were, how many rides were you going to go on in Barry's (the highlight of Portrush), was it the hobbie horses, the cyclone, the big dipper or the helter skelter, what shell necklace were you going to buy and what flavour of 99 were you going to devour after nearly throwing up on the mini rollercoaster. Ah, those were the days alright.

The second piece is of Foy with his dog Classy. I don't know much about this, but the colours and the composition of the old photograph intrigued me. I'm doing a much larger version of this but with a more sinister twist.

The third painting is called 'Granny Dickey'. It's my cousin Lisa, me, Jon-Paul Lisa's brother and Peter my bro. We look part of the fabric of Granny's skirt, gathering all her wee hens into herself for safety. That's kind of how she was, very nuturing, caring and made the best damn soda bread I've ever tasted. We'd get up on a Saturday morning to the smell of it cooking on the griddle. It had barely time to cool down before we were grabbing the big floury triangles, slicing them open and smearing them with butter, an inch thick. Then straight into our mouths, butter and flour coating our chins, our pjs, the floor, ohh, I'm salivating at the thought. I have inherited said griddle, but as yet have not braved the soda creating. I do rustle up a good pancake or 12 on a Saturday morning, which Ella then annihilates. I look on with pride whilst eating my cracker bread, and patting my tummy, "no love, you go ahead, I'm full up". She's in right up to the elbows, maple syrup all over the place, leaving sticky traces everywhere. Ah but sure it's worth it to see their wee faces happy and their mouths so full that wee bits start falling out as they say "get me a drink"! Kids, who'd have them!

The Highlands Beckon

Uh-oh, what are we going to do now? We've fallen for the highlands of Scotland and the quiet life in a big way. Maybe it's time to don a kilt and start drinking Dewars whiskey. Rolling hills, misty mountains, winding roads, all the shades of green cascading down the valley with the evening sun illuminating them in shafts of light. Would you listen to me, Rabbie Burns eat your heart out. What a spectacular place to live and bring up a kid. Ella was like a wild mountain goat. Running around like she'd never seen the outdoors before. All that aside, we met some wonderful people last week. You know those folks that after half an hour, you feel like you've known them your whole life. We laughed, we sang, we danced, some with only their pants on, but they know who they are and we enjoyed music and art together. It was simply perfect.

My show on the Thursday night was in my opinion, a success. Ryan who runs the Temple Gallery called on everyone's attention. He spoke briefly about the work and then handed the evening over to Foy who sang 'Gabriel and the Vagabond'. I spoke about My Life's Worth and working with Crisis in East London, a project set up to equip the homeless. It was actually really moving talking about the friends I'd made and the stories I'd heard about broken lives. Hearing the songs and seeing the paintings really brought them to life. It put them in context and as Foy sang 'Two shades of Hope' and 'Indiscriminate Act of kindness' I could see that a lot of people were affected by this. For me personally, it was a lovely opportunity to collaborate with Foy again, and we've decided that we need to do this sort of thing more often.

Thanks Ryan for everything, your support, good humour, creativity, spirit of adventure and most importantly, those smokin' dance moves on the floor of Eric and Naomi's house. Sha-monnn! Thanks to Eric and Naomi for your generosity, the White Tower need I say more, your openness, hospitality, and again, some pretty hot moves on the slidy floor (next time we need some Mr Sheen). You've all been great.

So, back to London and the fast lane. Will we forget the beauty of Scotland and get swallowed up by the craziness of London, or will head to the nearest outdoor shop and stock up on fleeces and walking boots? Who knows eh.

Temple Gallery art and music fusion

Aberfeldy, Perthshire, Scotland, absolutely gorgeous, magical and breathtaking! I'm in the Temple Gallery, packaging my prints for tonight's show. The work is hung, the floor is being swept, the holes in the walls are being filled in, it's all go here I'll tell you. The show officially opens tomorrow but the opening is tonight. It's the work from Foy's Hope album, and a few of the portraits I did of my homeless mates. I've done three new paintings and of course my lovely limited edition prints. I'm feeling very calm and relaxed, I'm sure the nerves will kick in a bit later. Foy is going to do a short performance, explaining how the paintings have inspired him and I'll do the same, not the performance bit, but the explanation part. I have to get the balance right, not spoon feeding folks but shedding a little light into what my inspirations have been. So it's an art and music fusion, an experience for all 5 senses. Music, art, wine and nibbles, work to touch and mmm, what's the smell part? I'm sure the boys could help us out after that hefty curry we had last night!

We arrived here on Monday mid-morning. We left London on Sunday morning, a VW packed full of paintings, suitcases, guitars, Foy, Ella and myself. It was a cold journey to say the least. There's no heat in the camper which is great in summer with the cold breeze blasting into your face, but heading up the M1 and the M6 with Jack Frost blowing into your face, isn't my idea of pleasurable experience. I had to try and by-pass my brain sending messages to my body to put 50 more layers on, and think of the prize at the end, the White Tower, complete with sauna and hot-tub, on the roof of the tower no less. This kept me going, even with snot running down from my nose and my shoulders tensed up round my ears to try and keep my scarf from slipping down. Poor Foy, how does he keep his head warm? I mean, my hair is really short at the moment and I'm struggling to keep it warm, but NO hair, well that's punishment isn't it. I'd just wear a wig, made of whale blubber and fur.

The VW journeys are always interesting. We'd stop off every couple of hours to get some coffee and treats to keep our spirits up, getting ripped off in Costa and the odd lipstick mark on your cup, and everything was going hunky-dorey until it started lashing and we pulled into a service station in Lancaster. Not only was it the worst service station I've ever experienced, but when we got back in Sunny, it wouldn't start! It was 5.30pm and getting dark. After several attempts, Foy slumped onto the steering wheel and didn't move for about 5 minutes. Ella was asking incessantly, "where are we sleeping tonight Daddy"? I sat silently, the only noise coming from me was the sound of clicking needles. My mate Jane gave me a huge ball of wool, so I started knitting a scarf in London and 300 miles up the road I was almost finished. I did feel a bit like a wee granny, clicking away, rocking back and forward to keep warm, a blanket wrapped round my knees, but I didn't care. Ella now has a cosy warm scarf and I've got tendinitis. Ha, that'll teach me for not taking any breaks. Two hours later, one call out to the AA an expensive at that, we were up and running, and all geared up for reaching Scotland. We eventually pulled into Stirling service station and set up camp for the night.

So here we are, in wonderful Aberfeldy. I haven't really had the chance to explore because I've been busy, but we're definitely coming back. Met some great people too, who are all creative sorts. Good schools, good community, hey maybe we'll move here.

Okay, until tomorrow, and the show is done, I'll say bye. Think positive thoughts for me tonight please, I'll need them. As my mate Steven Jones says "collective good will", that should keep me going. x

Birthday blues!

I'm sitting in my studio all alone...duh duh duh-duhhh, don't got no-one beside me. My phone rings and I get excited, but then it turns out to be the bank and they want me to give them feedback on what their service has been like!! I want friends, not bloody questionnaires! It's my birthday tomorrow for goodness sake. One year older, one year...wiser? I think not.

As I mentioned, I'm in my studio, my second home these days, working, working, working, and then a bit more work. Well done you might say, but I can feel a bit of play time coming on. I need some ME time, time to indulge myself and have some fun. All work and no play, makes for a very dull Joanne.

It's almost time to get back into the car and go do the school-run. How tedious that drive has become. I wonder if I were to count up all the hours I spent in the car, would it shock me? Probably. You know when you pull up behind those cars that have those silly sickers that say "Dad's/Mum's taxi service", well I'm considering slapping one of those on my head, so that Ella can see I'm turning into a mad-woman. Driving in London is turning me into a FREAKKKKKKK! Deep breaths, deep breaths. Okay, I accept that I have to do it, but I don't necessarily enjoy it. That's fair enough isn't it?

I will not vent anymore of my frustrations, I will be positive from this moment on. Choose it, that's what my mate says. You have a choice to be pissed off or not, so if that's the case, I choose to be okay with my lot for now. Just you wait world, I'm going to be the happiest person you've ever seen. There'll be squirrels, rabbits, blue-birds flying about the kitchen tomorrow morning while I hum a merry tune, making pancakes with maple syrup. HAH

On that note, I'm off-ski to get my wonderful daughter. Come home and bake a few apple pies and then maybe tackle profiteroles. I hear they're a real challenge! :)