Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Lapland.

Lapland. It was beautiful. Go. Just go. Words cannot describe.

  • Snow.
  • Finnish accents.
  • 60mph in on the Ice.
  • Evergreens.
  • Bonfires.
  • Hot berry juice.
  • Gingerbread.
  • Ski legs.
  • Attractive humans.
  • Fairy lights.
  • Too hot.
  • Too cold.
  • Just right.
  • Kiitos.
  • Reindeer strokes.
  • Reindeer eating.
  • Reindeer fur.
  • Speeding mobiles.
  • Plough. Plough. Plough.
  • Hot chocolate.
  • Father christmas.
  • Hats.
  • Wool.
  • Elves.
  • Bright stars.
  • Powder.
  • Huskies.
  • Lauren.
  • Antlers.
My pictures. They don't capture the beauty there. I would happily live there.














We raced the sun home. We won.

A nice day.

Now I know that everyone has their presents, I feel safe in posting this picture.
On the 13th. I think. I had a lovely day. It was an early morning. Gusty. To town to sign the little form. To buy presents. Pretty presents. A little shop called the Golden Goose entertained me for at least an hour. Full of trinkets and little pretties. My favourite kind of shop. While in there I had alot of fun smelling candles. Beautiful scents. Honeysuckle sweet. Blush soft. They were bought. Some surprising tones coming from little tin pots.
I went to the garden cafe that day. By then it was raining. All shopped out and waiting for parking tickets to expire. Moneys worth.
I sat outside. Under the porch. In the rain. The wind subdued by the four stone walls. I smoked a cigarette. I drank my tea. Listening to sounds. Chatters and Clatters.

Yes a pointless little paragraph.
But a lovely day it was.

Friday, 16 December 2011

Miss.

Everything about Christmas this year, is reminding me about last year. So much has changed since. Last year I was in Falmouth. In love. Happy. Clueless. It was blissful.
Me and Chloƫ getting far, FAR, too excited for Christmas holidays. Going home. Food. Gifts. Parties. Shopping in Truro for party dresses. Wintery beverages. SNOWBALLS. Peaking too soon.
I am clutching onto my memories from last year like my life depends on it. In a way. My sanity does. I'm just reminding myself how many things can happen in such a short time.

2012. It's here quickly. It seems like only last week that I was in Bath celebrating New Year in the freezing cold. With J and the bouncer. It was a good night. And little did I know 2011 would be the most eventful year of my life as I can remember, so far.
All I can really hope from 2012 is that nothing much happens. That everything I work for puts me in a better place. Physically. That I can better myself in ways that I see fit. I hope to be able to bring in 2013 as a happier person in general. Maybe with some direction.
2012 is really a new start this time.
All previous years, I have been in the same situation year in year out. Same people, same surroundings. Same everything.

I am excited for things to come. Next year and onwards. But for now. The rest of 2011. December. I have Lapland to look forward to. I have another NYE to get excited about. Chloƫ, the boys, cardiff.
A change of scene.

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Foxed.

Yes. I used tracing paper. Shoot me. No. Don't.
I really liked this image by Derek Guidry. I like it so much that I would like it on me. Ink. Ink. Ink.
The problem I have is that, I am completely copying someone else's work. It wouldn't be so bad, if it was someone who had been a life long inspiration. Or something. But because I have only seen afew of his works. And I mainly like this one because it's a fox. The best animals. I think it would be strange to get a straight copy tattooed.

So I changed it up. I made it softer, I think. Less intense. Blue eyes over green. Compass instead of a clock. SW. South West. Always.
The issue as always. With a tattoo.
Where to have it?
This would look quite nice a bit bigger. I think anyway. You never know until there is a stencil on your skin. I'm thinking arm. Upper inside. Maybe.

Just another thing to save some money for.

First Pages.

It feels good to start a sketchbook. To be able to draw. Doodles. Sketch. Design. Cut. Stick. Destroy. Sketchbooking was always what I most enjoyed. A book of secrets. The process of thoughts behind designs. Layers of mistakes. Seen as an aesthetic addition to the pages.
So far I have just been playing around with the noisy knitting thing. Learning to use it. Becoming friends. It is convenient. A weeks worth of hand knitting done in a mere two minutes. Automated needles. All I need to do is move my arm backwards and forwards. Taking the wool over the shiny, awaiting needles. It is not so easy however, to make a garment. The knitted world has another language, which I am yet to grasp.
Testers are filling my pages. Mainly because I cannot really work out how to do much else.

Colours. I have some disgusting colours at the moment. But it was free. No real complaint. When I start to make garments. Which I will. I will buy my own wool. With a nice quality. Tasteful colours. Pretty clothes.

I will make you all winter wrap ups. All cosy sleeves and comfort. Patterns and pretties. Plain and textured. Everything I can think of will be made, at least once.

I have the shed again. And yet to take any pictures. The knitting machine is not very photogenic. It is all metal and plastic. Industrial and ugly. I will take it down at some point. Decorate the walls inside with nostalgic pictures. Drawings and the like. Then I will take some snaps.
My lovely shed.
It's a home again.