Monday, 26 March 2012
Saturday, 24 March 2012
Change of plan, ART!
You know, I do too much bitching about work and not enough celebrating individuality and art.
So after a grand total of what, 3 work related posts? I'm changing the context of this blog. I'll keep the name just because I'm too lazy to change it, but I will dedicate this blog to fashion, style, art, crafts and celebrating my wonderful friends and who I am.
I'm quite rather excited. I know I only have one reader (and I love her so dearly, she's a sister to me) but I'm terrified of clogging up my Tumblr and Facebook and Twitter with my fangirling and being all AHH GIVE ME ATTENTION so I'll just put this sort of thing on my blog more often when I feel like sharing this sort of thing.
A few years ago I was really into writing. And drawing and painting and all sorts of lovely artsy things. And I kind of lost it. It's come back because of Sherlock by the BBC. I love every aspect of the show and of the fandom. It's just brilliant, and it's inspired me.
I've done a few portraits, I've made a few hats, I'm writing again, and today I took on my first water colour since I was about 16.
A few weeks ago I got this idea in my head.
Sherlock. Brits. Hot black coffee and steaming cups of tea. Tobacco and scarves and pipes and long coats. I'm enamoured with the fashion and with the idea of smells.
I decided since I love to do portraits, it would only make sense if I used one of these beautifully defining materials to paint Sherlock's (Benedict Cumberbatch's) lovely face. Because I'm not shallow at all. He's fucking beautiful, kay? XD
Anyway, so I went out and I bought some heavy duty watercolour paper, some brushes and a basic water colour set. I also went out and bought 40 disposable shot glasses.
When I got home (and redyed my hair) I boiled a heap of water and started making pigments out of coffee and various teas. Intense black tea, orange pekoe, lemon and honey, green tea, and wild berry tea.
I had 30 shot glasses, 6 different beverages and 5 shades of each. My lounge room smelled delicious.
I messed up the proportions of his face a bit, and his hair (hair is so difficult for me) but here is my final result.
Everything is tea and coffee, but for the darker shades in his hair, his eyebrow, the blue in his eyes, the black of his nostril and the black inside his mouth- those are watercolour. I wanted to do as little as possible with the actual water colours, but I could not get my coffee dark enough to do what I needed.
So after a grand total of what, 3 work related posts? I'm changing the context of this blog. I'll keep the name just because I'm too lazy to change it, but I will dedicate this blog to fashion, style, art, crafts and celebrating my wonderful friends and who I am.
I'm quite rather excited. I know I only have one reader (and I love her so dearly, she's a sister to me) but I'm terrified of clogging up my Tumblr and Facebook and Twitter with my fangirling and being all AHH GIVE ME ATTENTION so I'll just put this sort of thing on my blog more often when I feel like sharing this sort of thing.
A few years ago I was really into writing. And drawing and painting and all sorts of lovely artsy things. And I kind of lost it. It's come back because of Sherlock by the BBC. I love every aspect of the show and of the fandom. It's just brilliant, and it's inspired me.
I've done a few portraits, I've made a few hats, I'm writing again, and today I took on my first water colour since I was about 16.
A few weeks ago I got this idea in my head.
Sherlock. Brits. Hot black coffee and steaming cups of tea. Tobacco and scarves and pipes and long coats. I'm enamoured with the fashion and with the idea of smells.
I decided since I love to do portraits, it would only make sense if I used one of these beautifully defining materials to paint Sherlock's (Benedict Cumberbatch's) lovely face. Because I'm not shallow at all. He's fucking beautiful, kay? XD
Anyway, so I went out and I bought some heavy duty watercolour paper, some brushes and a basic water colour set. I also went out and bought 40 disposable shot glasses.
When I got home (and redyed my hair) I boiled a heap of water and started making pigments out of coffee and various teas. Intense black tea, orange pekoe, lemon and honey, green tea, and wild berry tea.
I had 30 shot glasses, 6 different beverages and 5 shades of each. My lounge room smelled delicious.
I messed up the proportions of his face a bit, and his hair (hair is so difficult for me) but here is my final result.
Everything is tea and coffee, but for the darker shades in his hair, his eyebrow, the blue in his eyes, the black of his nostril and the black inside his mouth- those are watercolour. I wanted to do as little as possible with the actual water colours, but I could not get my coffee dark enough to do what I needed.
Friday, 23 March 2012
Wednesday, 14 March 2012
A terrifying and beautiful story
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZq_jeYsbTs
The only reason for honing onto this track as opposed to any other in a back catalogue whose range defies belief is a personal one. It signifies how the best of times and the worst of times really do sidle up to one another. I first met your dear proprietor when filming a mini-series called To the Ends of The Earth for dear old Auntie (BBC) in South Africa which and I’d had the most amazing time on the job and a weekend learning to scuba dive with two other cast members — the best of times. Then the front right tyre blew on our car, we pulled in and were surrounded by men who came out of the bush and we were carjacked — the worst of times. A long (2.5 hours of ordeal) story but the intrinsic part for the song choice is that it was playing just before the tyre blew when I had lit a spiff and was contemplating how ridiculously blissfully happy I was. The next time I heard it was bundled against the windscreen of the car on the front passengers’ knees with my back and head hitting the windscreen as we were driven off road. My bum hit the car stereo and for a few surreal minutes Tom Yorke was sound tracking me to my death. I turned round as we bounced over the sand track, the headlights showing the passing sugar cane and kept thinking of the shallow graves they dug for themselves in the movie Casino as the master of introspection and modern ennui Mr T Yorke sang ‘I’m not here… This isn’t happening’ … We all lived.
-Benedict Cumberbatch
The only reason for honing onto this track as opposed to any other in a back catalogue whose range defies belief is a personal one. It signifies how the best of times and the worst of times really do sidle up to one another. I first met your dear proprietor when filming a mini-series called To the Ends of The Earth for dear old Auntie (BBC) in South Africa which and I’d had the most amazing time on the job and a weekend learning to scuba dive with two other cast members — the best of times. Then the front right tyre blew on our car, we pulled in and were surrounded by men who came out of the bush and we were carjacked — the worst of times. A long (2.5 hours of ordeal) story but the intrinsic part for the song choice is that it was playing just before the tyre blew when I had lit a spiff and was contemplating how ridiculously blissfully happy I was. The next time I heard it was bundled against the windscreen of the car on the front passengers’ knees with my back and head hitting the windscreen as we were driven off road. My bum hit the car stereo and for a few surreal minutes Tom Yorke was sound tracking me to my death. I turned round as we bounced over the sand track, the headlights showing the passing sugar cane and kept thinking of the shallow graves they dug for themselves in the movie Casino as the master of introspection and modern ennui Mr T Yorke sang ‘I’m not here… This isn’t happening’ … We all lived.
-Benedict Cumberbatch
Monday, 12 March 2012
The general public
The general public. They can be such a funny sort.
A woman was asking me for something on the phone today. As they always ask me for something. I was asking her if she could maybe spell the word out for me.
G for Golf?
Her patience wore thin.
"P. P FOR PENIS."
An awkward silence.
"So that's *insert company name here* at *the exact address*"
"Are you making fun of me?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"Would you like to be connected?" My voice shook more.
We both burst into laughter at the same time.
A woman was asking me for something on the phone today. As they always ask me for something. I was asking her if she could maybe spell the word out for me.
G for Golf?
Her patience wore thin.
"P. P FOR PENIS."
An awkward silence.
"So that's *insert company name here* at *the exact address*"
"Are you making fun of me?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"Would you like to be connected?" My voice shook more.
We both burst into laughter at the same time.
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