Ta da ....

I bought etsian fancifuldevices' bangle tutorial a few weeks ago and finally got round to making a couple of stacks.   The great thing about the tutorial is that it encourages you to be brave and not over think the process.  

I've admired many bangle stacks from fellow etsians like readbetweenlines and tuscanrose (to name just a couple of examples of awesome artists - we are talking serious talent) but I have always, up until now at least, been unable to create an etsy worthy stack of my own.   I followed the tutorial's advice and kept my colour palette simple, turned the tv on and ... not bad for a first effort I think.  I'm going to try to be braver still in my next attempts.  I've been hoarding some brooches and other bits and pieces of shiny for some time (think years) and I think (well hope) that they might work well in a stack.


The only downside is that I am now addicted to The Voice which was on whilst I worked away at the bangles- at least it's better than my (very short addiction) to Jersey Shore for which I blame an MTV marathon of back to back episodes and flue medication.  


On the complete flip side I also finished this piece:

This is a complete rework of a piece of the piece below (sorry about the crap photo)

The more I looked at it the more I hated it -the tassel was too full and the silver cap (the top of a vintage salt cellar) was completely out of whack.  I was tearing my hair out until a brainwave last night.   Mind you I think I went through about a mile of wire before getting the wrapping right!!!  


I'm still struggling with my camera - the weather is so gloomy lately and, because I take the pics outside without flash, it's hard to get anything in focus and I end up having to use the 'sharpen' option in my photo editor which does weird things to the colour.    I think I'm going to have to rethink my setup for winter.


Oh and I wanted to show you something else I made with the fabulous materials that Melinda from Bees on Pie  sent me.

See that gorgeous little shell with the hole , isn't it cute.  These have sold already (thanks Melinda).  She also sent me some fabulous little driftwood pieces which I want to use but the stash hoarder in me wont release them just yet. 


Til next time ...

A decade on

an ironic portrait of my father when he was at  Art School in the 1960s

My mother reminded me that it has been a decade since my father's death.  Living a long way from home I am out of sequence with the rhythms of my family's life, having established my own song here in Australia.  Recently though I have been thinking a lot about him which probably indicates that I am not completely disconnected and, at some unconscious level,  my brain has flagged the passing of this anniversary, commemorating it with a flood of revisited memories.


My mother, sisters, nephews and niece marked the anniversary by floating little paper boats on the river Thames - much as we had done after the funeral ten years ago.  I am sad not to have been there with them and so I decided to dedicate this post to my Dad instead - a 21st century memorial.  

As an artist, film editor and teacher my father influenced many lives.  A big man, both physically and intellectually, he loved being surrounded by people, especially his family, and engaging in lengthy discussions about, well everything and anything.  He truly relished his children's accomplishments and had an amazing capacity to make people feel really good about themselves.   He was a conspicuous consumer - loved to shop, loved gadgets, loved music (he would have loved iPods and iPads if he had lived long enough).  He was a talented painter,  he met my mother at Twickenham Art School, and I have a couple of his paintings here which I look at every day and think of him.


Fortunately, before his death, he was able to visit us here in Australia a number of times, building a relationship with my children and getting a sense of the amazing people they are turning into as they emerge from childhood.  He introduced my son to chocolate (very dad) and he called my daughter his 'wibbly' because he thought she was so full of personality and so funny.  


Like anyone there were times when he was down and we certainly had our fair share of terrific quarrels. But, that's what happens when you truly live life, your narrative will have it's dramatic moments before the curtain finally closes.


'til next time ...