The past six weeks or so, since my return from a wonderful and decadent university-funded month in Italy, (along with a few extra kilos!), has been somewhat of a blur. Re-entry to life without The Teenager (still travelling) has been mixed, it was so good to see her but just when I am really missing her she sends me an urgent text message or email requiring immediate action on my part, reminding me of the aspects I enjoy about her temporary absence.
• A tidy(ish) house.
• Privacy in my love-life (if only I had one!)
• Cooking what I want to eat, when I want to, and the time to work late if I wish.
• The time to attempt to get to grips with my thesis, and to focus on my career.
• The time to go out with friends and skip dinner altogether, which is probably not such a great idea, given the tumbles I have taken navigating my way home on my bicycle!
On other matters:
Along with many others, the GFC has not been kind to artists, although the dealers are saying that the market is slowly recovering. Many friends, excellent artists, have had dismal sales of late, me included. As a result I have taken on a bit of teaching, and more interestingly, a Paying Guest. Yes, I have let out The Teenager’s room. It took a massive amount of effort to pack up all her belongings, and find somewhere to store them (my bedroom, great!), and there were some interesting finds under the bed. Perhaps David Attenborough could do a series on Life under Teenagers Beds. However, now the room is pristine, the PG is ensconced, and we are slowly familiarising ourselves with each other’s idiosyncrasies. We’ve broken the ice with breakfast in our pyjamas, and a little too much wine after dinner (dangerous as I tend to get ‘beer goggles’ after a few drinks!). The cat took it upon himself to test out our new housemate by peeing on his clothes. Fortunately he took it in his stride, and handled it with good grace. And he now knows not to leave his clothes on the floor.
Despite the lack of sales, I have had a very good year critically, been short-listed for several prizes, and had very positive feedback from my university supervisor and my dealers about my work. I also have a very supportive counsellor who helps me steer my way with both The Teenager, The Ex and life in general. To reinforce her support she has recently purchased a large work of mine. Although things have been difficult I am fortunate and appreciative to have these people around me. And I am confident it will be better soon.
X Sunday
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
In the Deep End!
Call me petty, immature even, but what is with women who go to water aerobics exercise classes and don’t want to get their hair wet? I know it can be a pain having to dry your hair afterwards, and can discolour highlights, but really, if you’re that fussed about your ‘do’ maybe a land-based form of exercise might be an idea? Or God-forbid, invest in a bathing cap? It isn’t necessary to get drenched, but some splashing should be tolerated as inevitable.
I attend such a class regularly, mainly in order to keep somewhat trim, enough so that I can eat and drink as much as I like, the fitness is a just a perk! But, there is always one, isn’t there? ‘Duck-bum’ also attends regularly, and obviously has a weekly set at the hairdressers. It is so coiffed I swear it wouldn’t move in a hurricane. And she does not like me, or rather my enthusiasm for the class. Inevitably we end up next to each other, and goaded by her tutting and huffing, I have become even more enthusiastic, and oops, occasionally her hair gets a light splash! Why this amuses me so much I am not sure, but clearly she does not share my sense of humour! Am I being over-the-top?
I attend such a class regularly, mainly in order to keep somewhat trim, enough so that I can eat and drink as much as I like, the fitness is a just a perk! But, there is always one, isn’t there? ‘Duck-bum’ also attends regularly, and obviously has a weekly set at the hairdressers. It is so coiffed I swear it wouldn’t move in a hurricane. And she does not like me, or rather my enthusiasm for the class. Inevitably we end up next to each other, and goaded by her tutting and huffing, I have become even more enthusiastic, and oops, occasionally her hair gets a light splash! Why this amuses me so much I am not sure, but clearly she does not share my sense of humour! Am I being over-the-top?
Monday, September 28, 2009
The trials and tyranny of a teenager’s diet
The Teenager has for the last few years been on a self-imposed diet, of sorts. It changes form from time to time, but the desired end result remains the same. Basically she wishes to be rake thin, similar to the model images she sees in magazines and blogs. This is at odds with a girl who loves food and cooking. But she is 19 and vulnerable, and I pray that this will pass.
For several years now all forms of ‘carbs’ have been off-limits, pasta, rice, bread and potatoes. Fortunately she seems to think oats are ok. Recently she made the switch to soy rather than dairy. Nuts are now a no-no. Omelettes are made with egg whites only, and she is forever hungry. To combat this she eats vast amounts – breakfast may be a large bowl of oats with soy milk and apple, but a couple of hours later she is hungry again, and munching on another piece of fruit. Enormous salads (no oil) for lunch. All very healthy, but just so much.
The sad thing is that she is not over-weight, but rather a healthy ‘normal’ size 10, well-proportioned shape and size. And beautiful. How she sees herself is somewhat different, adjectives such as “obese, morbidly obese, huge, fat, and ugly” regularly spring from her lips. How others see her bothers her greatly as she believes everyone sees her as she imagines herself to be. As a parent it is both disturbing, and heart-breaking to hear.
Certainly all that she does eat is healthy, partly perhaps because as a family we’ve always been into fresh and seasonal food, and she exercises daily. Yet despite all her efforts, her body shape remains much the same. She is gorgeous, and often told so, but she still cannot get it. Being a ‘foodie’ doesn’t help; imagine her dismay in Italy when presented with great meal choices that she cannot allow herself to have.
I’ve tried offering help such as counselling, shiatsu (for anxiety, which she did try, and seemed to help), talking about it, and not talking about it. It seems to be something she has to work through herself. As her physical health is not in danger, I feel we need to ride it out, and just be there for her. Thankfully, these self-depreciating sessions do not last long, and 90% of the time I have a happy, confident, out-going and well-mannered teenager on my hands. It's just that other 10% that is a bit exhausting.
For several years now all forms of ‘carbs’ have been off-limits, pasta, rice, bread and potatoes. Fortunately she seems to think oats are ok. Recently she made the switch to soy rather than dairy. Nuts are now a no-no. Omelettes are made with egg whites only, and she is forever hungry. To combat this she eats vast amounts – breakfast may be a large bowl of oats with soy milk and apple, but a couple of hours later she is hungry again, and munching on another piece of fruit. Enormous salads (no oil) for lunch. All very healthy, but just so much.
The sad thing is that she is not over-weight, but rather a healthy ‘normal’ size 10, well-proportioned shape and size. And beautiful. How she sees herself is somewhat different, adjectives such as “obese, morbidly obese, huge, fat, and ugly” regularly spring from her lips. How others see her bothers her greatly as she believes everyone sees her as she imagines herself to be. As a parent it is both disturbing, and heart-breaking to hear.
Certainly all that she does eat is healthy, partly perhaps because as a family we’ve always been into fresh and seasonal food, and she exercises daily. Yet despite all her efforts, her body shape remains much the same. She is gorgeous, and often told so, but she still cannot get it. Being a ‘foodie’ doesn’t help; imagine her dismay in Italy when presented with great meal choices that she cannot allow herself to have.
I’ve tried offering help such as counselling, shiatsu (for anxiety, which she did try, and seemed to help), talking about it, and not talking about it. It seems to be something she has to work through herself. As her physical health is not in danger, I feel we need to ride it out, and just be there for her. Thankfully, these self-depreciating sessions do not last long, and 90% of the time I have a happy, confident, out-going and well-mannered teenager on my hands. It's just that other 10% that is a bit exhausting.
Friday, September 25, 2009
I am in love.......
with almost all things Italian.
I have returned home after nearly missing my flight due to having slipped into a totally relaxed holiday state and forgetting my actual departure date. By chance I happened to check my ticket only to discover that I was due to leave that afternoon! A mad dash to throw my belongings into my bag, a hasty farewell to my mother before my father, my daughter and I sped off to Rome. I'm never good at goodbyes at the best of times, so perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. The hardest part was saying goodbye to The Teenager at the airport as I won't be seeing her again until after Christmas. When she first proposed taking a gap year between school and university I was a tiny bit hesitant, but having seen just how much she has learnt from travelling, organising herself, budgeting and surviving, I am now 100 percent behind the concept. She has managed magnificently, seen all that she should, had fun and adventures, and met some great people along the way. It was fabulous to have three weeks with her, and to see just how well she is doing. Of course she still had her moments, which reminded me of the aspects of being home alone that I am currently enjoying!
Italy. Such a dreamy time to visit, sunny days and cooler evenings, I was in heaven. Morning cappuccinos and pre-dinner proseccos at the bar, idling away the time thinking about lunch and dinner, whilst surreptitiously keeping an eye on the gorgeous Italian men who just get the look right, seemingly without effort. Great jeans, crumpled linen shirts and loafers with no socks, why do so many men of the world get it so wrong?
Of course whilst it was wonderful to be with family and friends, I was conscious of my study duties, and did actually set aside time for things other than food, wine and gazing at men. The beautiful sketchbook given to me did get a few drawings in it, and the notebooks are filled with notes taken whilst looking at great works of art.
I spent a week in Venice looking at art both old and new, as well as revisiting some old favourites, of which Bellini is one. A week of expensive food, cheap wine and good coffee. A week of getting lost in all the lane ways (and making a mental note not to retire there, imagine living in Venice and having Alzheimer's!), discovering great hidden bars and cafes, meandering through the markets and wishing I had a kitchen, a week of mostly rain and still finding it incredibly beautiful, a week of seeing Turner in every view, and a week of wishing I had more money to shop!
Of the Biennale, there was the usual mix of the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Whilst there were some interesting artists at the Giardini, it was the Arsenale that I most loved. Despite some flooding at the end of the building (and what an incredible building it is!) everyone was very good-natured about it all and simply took off their shoes and waded through in bare feet. One of the most poetic works for me was by Ceal Floyer, whose work was the simple projection of a bonsai tree. Unmanicured, it was projected to the size that the actual tree would have become had it not been confined to its pot. The artist's statement talked of the literality being a conceptual tool to represent hidden or repressed truths, but I also saw it as an optimistic work, that spoke of potential and growth despite handicaps or outside pressure. Perhaps I was thinking of The Teenager.
Now it is back to the brushes, and more importantly, cracking on with my thesis, something I always seem to avoid by finding other things to do (such as this blog!). If only I was as good at writing as I am at procrastinating. The cat is beside himself with joy to have me home again, and all is well. I miss my daughter madly, but know that she is well and having a fantastic experience that will only enrich the wonderful young woman she is becoming. I have been home less than 48 hours, and have hit the ground running, but I will hang on as tightly as I can to the wonderful calm and memories that I have brought home with me. And think about what sort of risotto I will cook for dinner!
I have returned home after nearly missing my flight due to having slipped into a totally relaxed holiday state and forgetting my actual departure date. By chance I happened to check my ticket only to discover that I was due to leave that afternoon! A mad dash to throw my belongings into my bag, a hasty farewell to my mother before my father, my daughter and I sped off to Rome. I'm never good at goodbyes at the best of times, so perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. The hardest part was saying goodbye to The Teenager at the airport as I won't be seeing her again until after Christmas. When she first proposed taking a gap year between school and university I was a tiny bit hesitant, but having seen just how much she has learnt from travelling, organising herself, budgeting and surviving, I am now 100 percent behind the concept. She has managed magnificently, seen all that she should, had fun and adventures, and met some great people along the way. It was fabulous to have three weeks with her, and to see just how well she is doing. Of course she still had her moments, which reminded me of the aspects of being home alone that I am currently enjoying!
Italy. Such a dreamy time to visit, sunny days and cooler evenings, I was in heaven. Morning cappuccinos and pre-dinner proseccos at the bar, idling away the time thinking about lunch and dinner, whilst surreptitiously keeping an eye on the gorgeous Italian men who just get the look right, seemingly without effort. Great jeans, crumpled linen shirts and loafers with no socks, why do so many men of the world get it so wrong?
Of course whilst it was wonderful to be with family and friends, I was conscious of my study duties, and did actually set aside time for things other than food, wine and gazing at men. The beautiful sketchbook given to me did get a few drawings in it, and the notebooks are filled with notes taken whilst looking at great works of art.
I spent a week in Venice looking at art both old and new, as well as revisiting some old favourites, of which Bellini is one. A week of expensive food, cheap wine and good coffee. A week of getting lost in all the lane ways (and making a mental note not to retire there, imagine living in Venice and having Alzheimer's!), discovering great hidden bars and cafes, meandering through the markets and wishing I had a kitchen, a week of mostly rain and still finding it incredibly beautiful, a week of seeing Turner in every view, and a week of wishing I had more money to shop!
Of the Biennale, there was the usual mix of the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Whilst there were some interesting artists at the Giardini, it was the Arsenale that I most loved. Despite some flooding at the end of the building (and what an incredible building it is!) everyone was very good-natured about it all and simply took off their shoes and waded through in bare feet. One of the most poetic works for me was by Ceal Floyer, whose work was the simple projection of a bonsai tree. Unmanicured, it was projected to the size that the actual tree would have become had it not been confined to its pot. The artist's statement talked of the literality being a conceptual tool to represent hidden or repressed truths, but I also saw it as an optimistic work, that spoke of potential and growth despite handicaps or outside pressure. Perhaps I was thinking of The Teenager.
Now it is back to the brushes, and more importantly, cracking on with my thesis, something I always seem to avoid by finding other things to do (such as this blog!). If only I was as good at writing as I am at procrastinating. The cat is beside himself with joy to have me home again, and all is well. I miss my daughter madly, but know that she is well and having a fantastic experience that will only enrich the wonderful young woman she is becoming. I have been home less than 48 hours, and have hit the ground running, but I will hang on as tightly as I can to the wonderful calm and memories that I have brought home with me. And think about what sort of risotto I will cook for dinner!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Dates, art, and travel
The last three weeks all seem to have run into one long blur. A lot of it through a haze of too many late nights and definitely too much wine. But fun! I am pleased to report that I have had no further bicycle incidents, despite going out for dinner again in high-heels and drinking more than the standard 'recommended' number of drinks before riding home. Oops!
Tomorrow I am off to Italy for three weeks. I will get to see the teenager, the parents and even the cousin (currently in disgrace for eloping and thus avoiding a cast of thousands wedding!). Ostensibly this trip is part of my research project, which involves looking at a lot of art and visiting the Venice Biennale, but which will also include a lot of food and wine 'research'! I can't wait! I have been given a gorgeous journal with lovely paper, so plan to do lots of little ink studies, it's a perfect size to carry around and rest on a cafe table whilst 'soaking up' the atmosphere!
Recently whilst trawling a dating website, and wondering just how many frogs one must kiss in order to secure a prince, I received an email from someone who sounds quite interesting and looks quite OK as well! And it seems that whilst he lives in the same city as me, he will be in the very same Italian town at the same time as me! This he mentioned before knowing that I was even going to Italy. Odd, huh? I may have to 'bump into' him there - it would be great cover from nosey teenagers as to how we met - and much more fun.
Blind Date No.2 sent me a text (two weeks later) saying it was "lovely to meet" me! Yes, that would be a euphemism! I'll forgive him the tardy text as he was actually away helping to save a remote village from immanent disaster. Luckily I don't mind, that inexplicable and often elusive 'chemistry' wasn't there really anyway. Cross fingers that it is for this one!
So back to packing, black, black and more black. I can't wait to see my daughter, and my family (best in small doses!). I will no doubt return fat, brown and hopefully with a lot of research done as well. See you all in three weeks,
Ciao for now,
Sunday x
Tomorrow I am off to Italy for three weeks. I will get to see the teenager, the parents and even the cousin (currently in disgrace for eloping and thus avoiding a cast of thousands wedding!). Ostensibly this trip is part of my research project, which involves looking at a lot of art and visiting the Venice Biennale, but which will also include a lot of food and wine 'research'! I can't wait! I have been given a gorgeous journal with lovely paper, so plan to do lots of little ink studies, it's a perfect size to carry around and rest on a cafe table whilst 'soaking up' the atmosphere!
Recently whilst trawling a dating website, and wondering just how many frogs one must kiss in order to secure a prince, I received an email from someone who sounds quite interesting and looks quite OK as well! And it seems that whilst he lives in the same city as me, he will be in the very same Italian town at the same time as me! This he mentioned before knowing that I was even going to Italy. Odd, huh? I may have to 'bump into' him there - it would be great cover from nosey teenagers as to how we met - and much more fun.
Blind Date No.2 sent me a text (two weeks later) saying it was "lovely to meet" me! Yes, that would be a euphemism! I'll forgive him the tardy text as he was actually away helping to save a remote village from immanent disaster. Luckily I don't mind, that inexplicable and often elusive 'chemistry' wasn't there really anyway. Cross fingers that it is for this one!
So back to packing, black, black and more black. I can't wait to see my daughter, and my family (best in small doses!). I will no doubt return fat, brown and hopefully with a lot of research done as well. See you all in three weeks,
Ciao for now,
Sunday x
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Blind Date No.2 (or my inner hussy!)
The past week has been a blur of socialising, far too much alcohol and not enough writing, as the thesis requires some serious attention. But is has been fun!
Blind Date No. 2 turned out to be a lot more interesting than No.1. A bit on the old side for me at 55, but boyish looking, with the body of a 4o year old. Seriously fit! How do I know this? Blame my inner hussy but when he offered to stay and help with the washing up, he stayed! One of the perks of The Teenager being away,and I'd be mad not to make the most of it. It was great fun, but I doubt it will go any further than that, especially as he lives in a different city and regularly travels to far-flung places as part of his work. Still it has inspired me to give the Internet another go - I could do with a bit more of this!
Last night I went to a party for a visiting artist, drank far too much, and attempted to ride my bike home. Big mistake! I almost made it home when a lamppost leapt out at me causing a very inelegant tumble. I am now sporting a large red raw knee and some interesting yellow bruising up my leg and bum, which is already threatening to turn purple. Worse, the chain came off my bike, and I had to walk it home, in extremely high heels. At least it happened after the date!
Back to the thesis,
Sunday
Blind Date No. 2 turned out to be a lot more interesting than No.1. A bit on the old side for me at 55, but boyish looking, with the body of a 4o year old. Seriously fit! How do I know this? Blame my inner hussy but when he offered to stay and help with the washing up, he stayed! One of the perks of The Teenager being away,and I'd be mad not to make the most of it. It was great fun, but I doubt it will go any further than that, especially as he lives in a different city and regularly travels to far-flung places as part of his work. Still it has inspired me to give the Internet another go - I could do with a bit more of this!
Last night I went to a party for a visiting artist, drank far too much, and attempted to ride my bike home. Big mistake! I almost made it home when a lamppost leapt out at me causing a very inelegant tumble. I am now sporting a large red raw knee and some interesting yellow bruising up my leg and bum, which is already threatening to turn purple. Worse, the chain came off my bike, and I had to walk it home, in extremely high heels. At least it happened after the date!
Back to the thesis,
Sunday
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
I've been dumped!
I am in the somewhat ungainly position of trying to pick up my jaw from the floor, and my dignity from somewhere hopefully nearby. Here I have been thinking that I'd give the psychiatrist date another chance in case I was wrong about him, and he has pipped me to the post to inform me that he'd like to continue to see me socially but has recently become "romantically involved" with someone from the past! This would have been better if he had informed me a little earlier, but not after extending invitations to a couple of functions before disappearing off the radar for a few weeks. What was he thinking? Clearly not about me! Anyway in many ways I guess that answers my question. And he is definitely not for me!
On the flip side I have been taken on by another gallery in another city, who have offered me a show next year. It's proving to be a great year career-wise, if not for sales and boyfriends.
On the flip side I have been taken on by another gallery in another city, who have offered me a show next year. It's proving to be a great year career-wise, if not for sales and boyfriends.
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