Shadows

At the Whitworth Art Gallery today Tish, Creature and I went to see the Dark Matters exhibition and we particularly loved this (picture comes from the dark matters website, we wanted to film it but were not sure if it was allowed):

This particular installation was by a group called Brass Art. It was a structure made of tiny transparent figures and cellophane around which a light rotated casting shadows in the surrounding walls. We watched the images move, enlarge, cross over each other and fade; each time the light went round you saw different details and patterns. For several rounds we followed the light (so our own shadows did not get in the way) and then also stood by the entrance. The transparent cellophane made shadows but they had an opaque quality that suggested smoke, and the larger more solid shape in the centre changed, one minute seeming like a protective hand, at others something more threatening to the scene. It was utterly mesmerising and I could quite happily have watched it all afternoon.

Having been a few months ago and been disappointed by the Mary Kelly exhibition, which was merely bewildering, this was most enjoyable and we will definitely go again, it is on til January.

I came home to a new (second hand) copy of 'Bears in the Night'. I have been looking after the Babe on Thursdays for a few weeks and am working on rebuilding my collection of children's books so we have nice things to share with her. She is nearly two and doesn't quite have the attention span for the more sophisticated stories (she was most insistent last week that I could not read The Sneetches, but loves The Elephant and the Bad Baby). In this tale a family of small bears get out of bed and go on an adventure "up Spook Hill", only to encounter something very scary. As Creature and I walked back from the bus stop we were discussing the book (I had ordered it a few days ago) and were pleased that we could remember it in it's entirety: out the window... down the tree ... over the wall... under the bridge... around the lake ... between the rocks... through the woods ...

Coming of age?

Twenty one years ago tonight I went off to Guides as usual after a busy day shopping in town, pretty much despairing that the huge lump I was carrying around with me was ever going to make their appearance, I was 38-and-a-bit weeks pregnant. Then at 8.45pm I felt this little pop and my waters broke (fortunately not in a gush or anything). Mary (ex-mother-in-law) took me home and we called the ambulance. By the time it arrived I was well in labour and a bit iffy about going anywhere. The ambulance man said he had delivered a baby but never twins. So we went and I swear that the driver hit every pothole down Carrville high street, while I swore at him the entire way.

Tish (Thymian Maria) arrived at 10.40pm and Jacob followed shortly afterwards at 10.55pm, no doctors, no messing around, it was quite a relief after Lewis. The first year went past in a bit of a blur but since then I have always considered it a blessing to have two together as they always had someone to play with, and mostly they played quite nicely:-) Happy Birthday 21 today.

Nice people

people with letterboxes big enough for a large Amazon packet

people who leave their porch door open

people who leave notes saying 'please put packet in recycle box'

people who sensibly have their parcel delivered to their workplace

people who meet you at the village shop and offer to take their post (particularly if they live at an isolated farmhouse)

people with doorbell chimes (particularly christmas carols)

people with lavender in the front garden

people who leave a gap in the fence (or even a gate) between themselves and next door so you don't have to walk up and down the paths again

people who have a box at the end of their very long drive

people who have an old ship's bell as their door bell (the most brilliant sound ever)

people who are always home for parcels

(slightly crazy) people who chase after you down the road to give you a banana (yes, that really happened:-)

people who offer a glass of water on a hot day

people who remember your name

people with cats

people who put signs on their postbox warning you there is a bird's nest inside

people who bring out baby hedgehogs for you to meet

people who let you hold their baby while they sign for a package

(In response to Friday's post so people don't think I am a miserable bugger)

Novel Writing

Originally a newspaper column in the Daily Telegraph 'A Novel in a Year' then became a book and I have been using it for the past couple of months as a basis for a bit of writing practice for NaNoWriMo.

The book consists of alternating chapters where Louise Doughty introduces an aspect of writing, from creative prompts, to character development, to metaphors, and so on, then she gives the reader a writing task and then in the following chapter she recaps on the responses to the task given by participants on the website. Sometimes this was interesting but to be honest a lot of the time I would rather have been able to read more of the contributions than the little edited snippets that she gave, with too much of her saying 'this one was interesting' and other people did this or that. More real examples would have been more helpful. I confess I wasn't really giving it that much of my attention and I'm sure if you devoted yourself to the book as a project it would be very helpful. There were lots of interesting and useful bits of advice on the subject of writing from Doughty herself and other authors, and she didn't in any way try to make it seem like a walk in the park. There is no getting around the fact that it is hard work to write stuff and invariably what you end up with will be utter rubbish.

I keep thinking to myself that 1700 words a day is not very much, though of much of the time I will be doing my day job as well. Of course making stuff up is a whole different kettle of fish from writing blog posts, and even they can take several hours to cobble together. I am really feeling like I can use all the advice that's out there when tackling such an adventurous project. So, a useful little book, though you still need your 1% inspiration before the real work starts.

Stupid people

people with letterboxes smaller than 3"

people with letterboxes that are above head height (yes it does happen)

people whose letterbox is on upside down (so does that)

people with vertical letterboxes

people with ankle height letterboxes

people with a badly fitted draught excluder on their letterbox which actually prevents things being put through the letterbox (if i had a penny I'd be bloody rich by now ...)

people who design draught excluders for letterboxes

people who design those metal boxes to fix to the wall so you don't have to cut a hole in the front door, mostly they are crap too

people who have dogs who eat the post

people who don't have a warning sign that their dog may be behind the letterbox ready to eat the post

people who have a basket behind the letter box even when they don't have a dog who eats the post

people who have a letter box where the hole behind the flap is smaller than the metal covering it

people with letterboxes so stiff I nearly break my fingers trying to open it

people who have both brushes and a flap inside their letterbox ... WTF!

people with no bell or knocker so I bruise my knuckles

people with a sign saying 'bell not working please knock' ... fix it can't you

people who come to the door after five minutes and say 'sorry I didn't hear you knocking'

people who don't hear you knocking but do strangely hear the card being put through the letterbox

(Had a really crap day and my only consolation is walking round muttering 'stupid people' under my breath for every house that irritates me.)

The sad book

I don't write about children's books very often, mainly because I don't read them much these days, but I was drawn to the cover of Michael Rosen's Sad Book when I saw it in Julie's living room this afternoon. The title strikes you for a start and the front cover picture, which is all grey. I sat and read it to myself. It is a sad book. It is a children's book and it is about his son who died and how sad it made him feel. It is the most beautifully written book, not mawkish or sentimental, just poignant and gently heartbreaking. It describes how upset and angry it made him feel to have his life so changed by the death of his son, how much he misses him and the things it made him think and do. Then it describes the things he tries to do to make himself feel better, sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, and the sadness never really goes away. It is so perfect because it is so honest. It does not say that it is in any way wrong to feel sad about things, and does not try to have any answers or cures for feeling sad. It just acknowledges that sometimes this is just the way you feel and you can't do anything about it. In the world of children's stories that is so dominated by enforced bright cheerfulness it is wonderful to find someone prepared to write such a book.

NaNo gloves and all that

NaNoWriMo preparations are warming up. Over on my other blog (they have been proliferating a little recently) I have been joining in with Magpie Tales, a weekly creative writing prompt, and have also started writing 100 Words a day for October (got to start somewhere if we are going to be doing 1700 a day during November), you can read them on the 100 Words website without joining up I think.

I sat for a couple of evenings and knitted myself a pair of fingerless gloves (pattern only available if you are a Ravelry member), in what was left of the lovely lambswool and silk, so that I can type and still keep my hands warm on those chilly autumn mornings when I am too mean to put the heating on. I am still working on the hoodie for Tish that I started back in August, it is slow because of being fine yarn, but also because of getting distracted by other stuff.

Am racing to the end of War and Peace (100 pages of epilogue!!) so expect a mammoth review some time soon.

And Creature has been out joining in with the protests again, they made themselves into a gang of zombies with the assistance of the marvellous Emma and became 'the generation of the living dead', making their voices heard during the Tory Party conference that has been happening in Manchester this week.