Hello, if you are here you have most likely followed my link from Twitter. Please be advised that I am currently moving this blog to http://taluta.wordpress.com/
I have not done this completely yet so you may be a bit disappointed if you wander of there and find no tea and cake waiting for you. Have no fear, the kettle is boiling and the cake is in the oven, so please bookmark it and stop by again.
Thanks for you support.
In the meantime if you are looking for something to read that I have written, aside from scrolling down on this page you could wander over here to see some of my other bloggy articles written for Africa on the Blog ... OR, you could just go to their main page and read up on what is happening all over this magical continent.
Monday, 28 March 2011
Thursday, 13 May 2010
Don't press the panic button ....
I am still around! Life has just been getting in the way of what I really want! *stomp/pout/groan*
I have written a number of blogs offline and shall undertake to post them. I'll have to backdate some or I risk looking particularly out of sync..... which is probably true; but I do like to keep a facade of having well honed organisational skills ..... *cough* ;D
I have written a number of blogs offline and shall undertake to post them. I'll have to backdate some or I risk looking particularly out of sync..... which is probably true; but I do like to keep a facade of having well honed organisational skills ..... *cough* ;D
Friday, 15 January 2010
Ptooey Kshooey: Wierd name I know.....
It came to me in a dream...
I'm not really into that sort of thing, but I have been having some strange and vivid dreams lately. Of course my first thought was: "YES! The world HAS to know about my dreams!!"
Well, no, it really wasn't my first thought at all.
Not to worry, I am not a nutter with some freaky ideas about how dreams are any more than a subconscious manifestation of conscious experiences.... Hmm, perhaps not even that!
I have a couple of friends who purposefully awaken themselves from sleep to write dream journals and they swear by it, saying that life makes more sense or ... I think that was what they said!? I can't quite imagine myself being able or willing to awaken simply to write what I dreamed of into a book at some ungodly hour of the night.
I rather thought of blogging about my dreams ... you know, at a decent hour of the day, when I am conscious. If I am going to share my dreams from time to time, it could be my own version of a dream journal, I kind of "dream manifesto"... *snort*
I think I will call it Ptooey Kshooey because .... well, that name did come to me in a dream and I rather think it is apt, considering that dream science is a mushy, murky world of supposition and guesses; much like the world of archaeology as it happens; only with less hard evidence to support any academic hypotheses....
Besides which, I enjoy dreaming, it relaxes me, makes me want to sleep more.... imagine that *yawn*
I'm not really into that sort of thing, but I have been having some strange and vivid dreams lately. Of course my first thought was: "YES! The world HAS to know about my dreams!!"
Well, no, it really wasn't my first thought at all.
Not to worry, I am not a nutter with some freaky ideas about how dreams are any more than a subconscious manifestation of conscious experiences.... Hmm, perhaps not even that!
I have a couple of friends who purposefully awaken themselves from sleep to write dream journals and they swear by it, saying that life makes more sense or ... I think that was what they said!? I can't quite imagine myself being able or willing to awaken simply to write what I dreamed of into a book at some ungodly hour of the night.
I rather thought of blogging about my dreams ... you know, at a decent hour of the day, when I am conscious. If I am going to share my dreams from time to time, it could be my own version of a dream journal, I kind of "dream manifesto"... *snort*
I think I will call it Ptooey Kshooey because .... well, that name did come to me in a dream and I rather think it is apt, considering that dream science is a mushy, murky world of supposition and guesses; much like the world of archaeology as it happens; only with less hard evidence to support any academic hypotheses....
Besides which, I enjoy dreaming, it relaxes me, makes me want to sleep more.... imagine that *yawn*
Saturday, 17 October 2009
I love poetry and childhood dreams...
Yes, I do. I always have and I write poetry too I'll have you know, poorly, but nevertheless my own :D
As a very small child I would read Mother Goose rhymes, almost daily. Winnie the Pooh lived in my bookshelf and the Hundred Acre Wood (aka Ashdown forest) in my vivid imagination..... I had the original version of Winnie the Pooh mind you, the one illustrated by E.H. Shepard, not the Disney version of my son's generation. I still have my books, Now We are Six, When We Were Very Young and so on (although I am not fortunate enough to have hard copy first edition prints; mine are frayed, well loved, paperbacks), you can find the list at the Wikipedia link but I digress.
My reading progressed over the years, so that by the age of thirteen, my mother gifted me a "Complete works of Shakespeare" for my birthday... yes, my joy was unconfined :D I remember walking down the passage in the old house and waltzing around the front room and kitchen quoting Shakespeare and using Shakespearian language, much the amusement and/or irriation of all. I suppose acting might have been a fair choice of career for me were I not so horribly scared of standing in front of people, as I discovered when I played Charles Dickens in our school house play one year (yes, it was an all girls school - - not some butch fantasy), but that is another story...
As a very small child I would read Mother Goose rhymes, almost daily. Winnie the Pooh lived in my bookshelf and the Hundred Acre Wood (aka Ashdown forest) in my vivid imagination..... I had the original version of Winnie the Pooh mind you, the one illustrated by E.H. Shepard, not the Disney version of my son's generation. I still have my books, Now We are Six, When We Were Very Young and so on (although I am not fortunate enough to have hard copy first edition prints; mine are frayed, well loved, paperbacks), you can find the list at the Wikipedia link but I digress.
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| Picture from Sotheby's sold catalogue |
So, back to poetry...
I won't profess to be able to quote poetry verbatim nor have a vast knowledge of poets themselves, but my love for it has never diminished over the years, only the time I have to spend reading it seems to have dwindled.. Dylan Thomas, T.S.Eliot, Walter de la Mare are a few whose works can be found on my bookshelves.
I never put much thought to it as a child but I loved the imagery poetry created. The pleasure those images gave me within the secrecy of my mind, it was my own version of reality, a place I where I would spend most of my time.
I was never one for faery tales or dolls; but poetry, insects and stuffed animals were my faery tales. My world was filled with Beatrix Potter like creatures due, in large part, to the stories and songs told and sung to me by my maternal grandmother (who, by some strange co-incidence, had the married name of Potter). Her stories, sadly none of which I can recall, led me into an Eden of childish dreams. And though in later life we grew distant and animosity darkened our relationship, my childish self remembers with a great deal of love and joy the moments I shared with her and how her propensity for drawing out the imagination in me is hugely responsible for forming the creative side of nature.
To this day, when I am at a loss for inspiration, I often revert to reading poetry or stories which evoke an emotional response to a subject, thing, creature or person. My music collection is eclectic and I will listen to whatever it is which feeds that emotion in order to draw on the fragment of my personality from whence my creation is emanating at any given time. The source is never the same, each piece of art or work I do represents a tiny piece of my soul.
Were it not for poetry being my first love and for my grandmothers devotion to me as a child, I often wonder if the realm of creativity which lives within me would ever have been discovered, nurtured and come, in turn, to be so deeply loved by myself and if not; what would be in its place I wonder?!
I won't profess to be able to quote poetry verbatim nor have a vast knowledge of poets themselves, but my love for it has never diminished over the years, only the time I have to spend reading it seems to have dwindled.. Dylan Thomas, T.S.Eliot, Walter de la Mare are a few whose works can be found on my bookshelves.
I never put much thought to it as a child but I loved the imagery poetry created. The pleasure those images gave me within the secrecy of my mind, it was my own version of reality, a place I where I would spend most of my time.
I was never one for faery tales or dolls; but poetry, insects and stuffed animals were my faery tales. My world was filled with Beatrix Potter like creatures due, in large part, to the stories and songs told and sung to me by my maternal grandmother (who, by some strange co-incidence, had the married name of Potter). Her stories, sadly none of which I can recall, led me into an Eden of childish dreams. And though in later life we grew distant and animosity darkened our relationship, my childish self remembers with a great deal of love and joy the moments I shared with her and how her propensity for drawing out the imagination in me is hugely responsible for forming the creative side of nature.
To this day, when I am at a loss for inspiration, I often revert to reading poetry or stories which evoke an emotional response to a subject, thing, creature or person. My music collection is eclectic and I will listen to whatever it is which feeds that emotion in order to draw on the fragment of my personality from whence my creation is emanating at any given time. The source is never the same, each piece of art or work I do represents a tiny piece of my soul.
Were it not for poetry being my first love and for my grandmothers devotion to me as a child, I often wonder if the realm of creativity which lives within me would ever have been discovered, nurtured and come, in turn, to be so deeply loved by myself and if not; what would be in its place I wonder?!
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Cuteness Overload - Cleopatra Stratan
This little girl is eat me up gorgeous.
Now, I clearly recall, when I was about to become a mother, I only wanted a son. It seemed fitting as I have always been a bit of a tomboy and I couldn't picture myself with a daughter, as luck would have it, I got my wish and I love my son to pieces. BUT..... and ....
However, seeing Cleopatra Stratan singing in this YouTube video has reminded me that tomboy or not, there is a little lady inside all girls, even me, and she rather makes me wish I could be mommy to a little girl too! Well, perhaps in another life .... although, if I rush it??!! ..... nah! *les sigh* :D
WARNING: cuteness overload in this video!!
How cute is she? 3 years old and taking on the world :D
C'mon, even the grumpiest of grumps has to admit to being completely charmed by this little girl, so just 'fess up' as they say in the US ;-D
Monday, 15 June 2009
Car Park Security - 15June2009
My first sketch of many... a route! Not certain if I should in fact put these under a different blog, but... it all seems a bit like overkill if I do, after all, it is all me... !
I hope you like this, a snippet of my life, done this morning.
I hope you like this, a snippet of my life, done this morning.
Monday, 8 June 2009
Out with the "emo" in with the new
I have made a huge descision.
Move on, move up, move out!
Life gets in the way of happiness sometimes and for me happiness is creativity. It amounts to mental self preservation really. Without one I can't seem to find the other.
It really is not that difficult, by making incremental changes in my environment I am more open to productivity. Of course I always knew this, we all do, but getting to the very specific spot or point where taking that first step was possible, seemed to me tantamount to climbing Everest and that put me right off before even starting.
However, I am happy to announce, I made a choice to change and much like quitting smoking, it is a bit of a struggle each day to stave off those old habits, but it can be done, as with most things it is simply a case of taking one day at a time.
And of course, PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE!! The repetition of new activities will soon replace that hankering to revert to my previous path of misanthropic self destruction.
Happiness is a choice, it can also be a battle, but happiness like art is subjective, each to his own. I know where mine lies, I now endeavour to actively pursue it each and every day.
Life, art and everything.... your destination awaits.
Move on, move up, move out!
Life gets in the way of happiness sometimes and for me happiness is creativity. It amounts to mental self preservation really. Without one I can't seem to find the other.
It really is not that difficult, by making incremental changes in my environment I am more open to productivity. Of course I always knew this, we all do, but getting to the very specific spot or point where taking that first step was possible, seemed to me tantamount to climbing Everest and that put me right off before even starting.
However, I am happy to announce, I made a choice to change and much like quitting smoking, it is a bit of a struggle each day to stave off those old habits, but it can be done, as with most things it is simply a case of taking one day at a time.
And of course, PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE!! The repetition of new activities will soon replace that hankering to revert to my previous path of misanthropic self destruction.
Happiness is a choice, it can also be a battle, but happiness like art is subjective, each to his own. I know where mine lies, I now endeavour to actively pursue it each and every day.
Life, art and everything.... your destination awaits.
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