Lost in lists

The small and insignificant story of my life to date could probably be an interesting read if compiled in the lists I write in an attempt to bring structure to it. If for some anal reason I had filed them all and not lost them or tossed them once they had passed their useful point it would be a unique historical record of a neurotic list-monger. The one I just sent to the bucket consisted of a few tasks carried out satisfactorily, a few 'notes to self' that probably prompted some action and a number of mystery items that I meant heartily at the time of writing, but whose significance or importance faded with the passage of time.

The list for the week coming includes useful occupations for passing time and ticking off tasks of moderate use for the future months, while keeping my mind focused away from the growing pile of concerns in the recesses of my mind... Compiling a new playlist for the gallery on my ipod with the vastly expanded music collection from the last time I had to perform the same task for a restaurant a few years ago; a programme mum recommended on Australian art recorded on iplayer, paintings to use in signage for the gallery (detail-monger), visits to galleries and contacts lists to assemble. Worries slightly magnified today by the knowledge that the property now has two interested parties and a larger raft of outcomes than a week ago, not all positive. Also my business bank manager has read my business plan (flattering comments: good) and made a proposal of it to send to the 'money men' in Leeds. Oh goody, another cliff-hanger to wait on.

Should be taking it on the chin by now, but I am not the best at suspense and will have to use my lists to their full advantage to occupy myself gainfully while the wheels of fate grind on.

Of course the best line of defence is... attack. Time to send those emails out to galleries, push my own profile art-wise and reach out to those who may help me. And keep an eye to my karma.

Long painty Sunday

What should have been a pleasant days painting on another glorious day was marred ever so slightly by the continued worries on loop in my head.. Not knowing if we will have to start all over again looking for a property when we have already written a business plan around this one, which is as I speak sitting on the desk (or computer) of my business bank manager. When we have handed in notice from our jobs and booked a weekend break, organised a man to sand the floor... Repeating one of my favourite and overused mantras helps but slightly - 'this too shall pass.'

Aside from this, and the fact that I am feeling queasy from smoking three cigarettes today after a ten year period of blissful abstinance, a very productive day. Used to having fans of Ritchie's work visiting the gallery (well it is his gallery) it is pleasant to find that people are returning to view mine. A couple who visited yesterday came again today with friends with the sole reason of showing them my paintings and were very pleased to meet me and find me painting away in the back shop. Strange feeling, but appreciated. The painting took off on its own today after a bit of a false start when a pal of Ritchie's appeared and chatted about painting for ages; interesting but a bit rambling and it stopped me hitting my stride until an hour had passed. Can't complain as I made up for it, and the image above is now out of date by a few hours as I continued back home.

Even managed to handle the visit of some local kids out to provoke me better than normal, by the simple use of silence and one of my mother's 'old fashioned' looks. Works best when peering over glasses; never guess she was a teacher... plenty tricks up those sleeves.

Having consciously gone through a phase of limited colour I have found myself letting go with all the tubes in the box in the last two pieces I have done - imminent spring feeling perhaps? I think the limitation did some good though as I am a little more thoughtful about where and why I am putting colours, and much more aware of tones. This has always tripped me up a little and I often find I have completed an entire painting in a myriad of colour, but only one tone.

These new ones are destined for the new venture, which I dare not think about tonight as it will set me off on crazy doom scenarios again. Monday dawns none too quickly.

I must go down to the sea again..

Unpromising weekend comes good. Yesterday I was mired in stress again with worries piling up relating to the business and procurement of premises in which to operate. Woke determined not to waste a whole three days free with useless 'what ifs' and so, in truly mature fashion, went out into the early morning sun and smoked a cigarette. I gave up eleven years ago... Weird thing is, it set me off on a good foot and the sun followed my mood shortly after. Nothing, repeat nothing, lifts the soul on a gloomy, pessimistic day as well as walking by the sea; I turned my car north eastwards and headed for North Berwick by way of Aberlady.

It helped that the weather was laughably kind to me; the sea was so flat calm that when a wavelet did break I turned around to see what the noise was; everyone was smiling, children were frolicking in rock pools and dogs running, running gleefully. Sat gazing into the water and quite forgot my previous torturous dilemmas regarding property; somehow it just melts away.

Found some more excellent craft makers in the Green and Blues gallery who I hope to secure for exhibtion in our new place; a great glass artist from Skye and a ceramic modeller originally from Finland - ah.. the Scandinavians, I do love them.

Wandered back via a small but very interesting show at the Birdwatching centre in Aberlady; Keith Brockie, Darren Woodhead, John Threlfal and John Busby, who are all outstanding wildlife artists. The show was from a joint trip to India and had some amazing sketches in rough thick pencil and pastel of rollers, bee-eaters and monkeys. Great to see such chunky media used in wildlife work, when the tendency is often to picky detail; these guys can really draw though and it is always a pleasure to admire the quickly and perfectly captured line.

Started a bit of a pet project tonight; 'The birds of fortuity', named after a favourite quote and character in Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which is a bit of a favourite read.. We are in the realm of autobiography once more, as the quote revolves around the birds (0f fortuity) fluttering down onto the shoulders of the character; a reference I have always related to when things seem to go uncannily well for no reason. It's also referring to (a) love, so my sentimental little side warms to the idea too. Continue tomorrow at Ritchie's gallery, where I should have been today if he hadn't cancelled me. Have to say that I am extremely glad things turned out the way they did or I would have missed the opportunity to bask in the best day of the year so far.

Learning to speak again

Lawyer-speak, that is. I was aware of the strange and wonderous ways of lawyers from our first and second brush with them, which involved a divorce and buying a house. Both experiences should have laid the foundations for a deep mistrust and a wish to 'stick a rocket up their ass' to paraphrase my grandmother. ( I hasten to add that my grandmother would never have sanctioned such teminology, but I'm pretty sure it was what she was thinking.)

So much pondering, so much writing of things and enclosing them in plastic folders and sending them back and forward to each other and other 'parties'. So little plain facts and plain talking.

I am deeply glad that the need for lawyers rises, is tolerated, and then fades away. If I had to deal with these people on a regular basis, I would be a wreck of a woman.

Tonight I read considered report on the property we hope to rent including such pitfalls as 'incomplete linoleum' - like, do they think we might not notice this and have plans to replace said flooring? Cracked window pane. Good lord these people are uncannily blessed with insight and vision beyond our comprehension; before them we are worms. Do they expect us to move into the property as we view it and just start trading? 'Come on folks, just take a seat anywhere - watch out for the missing linoleum and the half-hanging suspended ceiling; its a feature don't you know..'

So I end up writing doublespeak. What I want to write is 'We are not morons. We know that there will be repairs necessary but we have just wasted a week of my life getting someone else to write them out, type it up and carefully bind it in plastic, just to tell me that some repairs will be necessary. Just. Do. It.

This is not, of course, what I write. But I am deeply annoyed at another weekend of piddling about waiting to see what happens next, and will be even more deeply annoyed if a solution is not forthcoming pretty damned sharpish on Monday. Camping outside the office is looking like a sensible solution.

Rant over.

Windows to the soul

I have this fantastic image in my head from today; a customer whose shopping so perfectly fitted him that it made me wonder how often that happens. I must make a mental note to make a physical note when it does - I could have a little collection of character outlines in shopping...

I wrote a couple of Haikus in Glasgow on a similar note I guess; the age-old question of our character being reflected in our visage. Teresa in the 'Unbearable Lightness' gazing in the mirror hoping to see her soul (must look up that quote).

With her fruit trolley,

Old lady in Birkenstocks

Reminds me of me

A man with a nose

Wears his black hat tipped proudly

For promenading

That was the two from Glasgow... The guy I served today was all neaty sweety in a tweed suit; perfectly fitted with a high waist and immaculate tie. A reall dandy. Fluffy hair brushed, not combed and twinkling eyes. He was buying lemons and Parade Gloss shoe polish in brown.

Mrs Jigsaw

Skippety-skipped to my beloved cashdayjob today in the spring sunshine, humming the opening lines of 'Oh what a beautiful morning'. It rained soon after in true Edinburgh style, but felt great at the time to be seeing a hazy glimpse of the coming spring. Thought about how cool it will be if it is sunny in Amsterdam in a month's time, and how much I am looking forward to being there on holiday at last... always love the first day in a new city, rucksack on back and map not yet wadded into a ball in my hand. We always end up arriving by train from the airport after being stung too many times by taxi fares - even Bangkok has a spectacularly organised bus service for pennies; it is slow, but far preferable to air-con blandness and a rip off price.

Looks like the walk from the Amsterdam station takes us on a bit of a tourist whistle-stop of the city anyway, which will be good for getting bearings. For some reason my usually useless sense of direction becomes a finely honed machine once on holiday and becomes my main duty, while Stu handles finance. Nothing improves my lousy maths, especially an exchange rate sum to, so that is best left in safer hands.

Another weight has lifted tonight from my determinedly heavy brow (this week has been a vintage one for worry-mongering) with the email stating that our side of the finance is on target; big sigh of relief. Now I can shift my worrying attentions to the survey result and the 'damp problems' alluded to therein. If I had found a tenement basement in Edinburgh without damp I think I would deserve a medal, so no surprises, just be good to know what course of action is needed and how much. Starting to look into grants for renovations tomorrow as there must be something we can go for...

Messing with little paintings suggested by the big one I just finished, which is very satisfying and given me ideas for signage within the gallery and cafe; Mrs Jigsaw may be appearing in a few places soon...

At home on the island

Another of the winter days that reminds me of the 'Spoon' lyric; 'the winter gets cold in ways you always forget'. Thats the seasons in a nutshell for me; it always takes me by surprise how long the winter is; when it snows I have to re-learn snow walking and snow travel-timing. On such days as these I am puzzled by the huge span of time since we last saw leaves and flickering sun through the trees. Days seem shorter each year and nights longer; the cold is damper and more cutting. Come the summer I am amazed all over again by the long days; being able to garden into the evening and wake to green outside the window and the chippering birds.

I am noticing the span of time this winter in particular as I count down to a change in our life and circumstances, while trying.. so.. hard not to count the minutes, the days and the seconds passing. I try to follow the very logical idea of living in the moment; relishing the time we have and not wasting days, evenings waiting for the next dawn, but it is suddenly very hard.

This said; today was very enjoyable despite the damp grey and the tendency to pessimism and worry that keeps settling on me. Met up with a friend in Stockbridge and obsessed over other peoples cafes while also managing a couple of fine charity shop purchases and seeing some small gallery shows along the way. Comparing notes with another artist does one of two things to me; fills me with fear for our collective fate at the hands of recession and poverty, or inspires me to carry on regardless in the face of the slings and arrows... today it kind of managed both. Bought a nice big piece of canvas and posted the painting I have just finished to FB to a small flurry of positive comments. Great way to manage the transition between paintings - find just the right amount of inspiration and support, stretch a new canvas and take the plunge. I can't help thinking how much easier it would be if I could see something out the window; I feel like an island.

Parade for the birth of Bon

Okay, stay with me here... this is about the painting I have essentially finished today on a very quiet day in the Ritchie Collins gallery in Leith, where I spend my Sundays.
This is welcome respite as we are busy setting up a business that will, all things willing, open in early May after an April of renovations, equipment and artists. The company is called Bon Papillon, and we now have all of our 'setting up' business completed; me and Stu can entertain ourselves calling each other 'Director' and looking at our little folder of mysterious papers that may or may not become relevant as the year progresses. Now, Bon Papillon is also a wee guy who appears in my paintings, due to an earlier quote from a college friend about me seeming as if I was 'newly emerged from a narrow cocoon'. That was a while back and I feel as if the line could have applied numerous times in my years, but none more so than now, as we finally break free of the catering industry and set off into the sunset on our own. So... the painting I have been working on is essentially a celebratory picture of the 'emerging' of Bon the butterfly (aka me) into his new and strange world. Previous pictures have alluded to a kind of harem called the 'Joy Garden'; I have invented various characters who live there and so it seemed a natural extension of this to have Bon emerging from the garden alongside some of its stranger inhabitants. The fact that we are about to set up a business in the shade of the Botanic Gardens is yet another serendipity to add to the pile.
The wee guys accompanying Bon on his debut are a mixture of Hieronymous Bosch and Toy Story; quite where they came from in my mind is a worry, but this is them straight from sketch book to canvas in a day, so they must have been living in there somewhere...


The more I look at it, the more I think that I reveal more about myself than I realise in my paintings; certain things have a habit of recurring and the whole feel tends to be very autobiographical. The problem comes in explaining this to a sceptical punter when he enquires politely what it is 'about'. 'Well, its about my emergance from the shadow of a number of opressive forces that have dogged my life for a while, the support of those who are helping me attain this and the motley crew of influences, friends and circumstances that have led me to this historic personal threshold. Not sure about the jigsaw lady.'


Its a puzzle I guess.

Kind of, kind of

Kind of funny, kind of sad how I can still waste a day of freedom and relaxation by becoming a worry-monger, focusing on negatives and generally not making the most of the time given. It was as if my dark side ganged up on me from the outset today and I didn't have a chance to struggle against it; one of those archetypal 'got out the wrong side' days. Of course, the view greeting me on opening the curtains was of sheets of sleet; the hills veiled in a chilly fog and the poor tentative plants wishing they had stayed budded for a few weeks longer.

I know that by the time Stu returns I will have cured myself of my guilt and realised that, in amongst the angst I did actually achieve something; so as an exercise, I shall pre-empt myself and figure out what they were...

1) Exchanged DVD that was not working for a copy that is, free of charge or hassle

2) Took Stu's ma out for lunch and shopping

3) Found out how to create my own website and began the process

4) Wrote out mailing list for Bon Papillon from all my past contacts

5) Made dinner

And just to see how stupid it looks in print, here are my main worries of the day..

1) Have become suddenly fat, overnight

2) Have become alarmingly spotty

3) Have wasted day off in that no painting has been done

4) Failed to hoover house

5) Have yet to pin down artists for first show of not-yet-open gallery

6) Cats seem unsettled and worrysome (now both curled up asleep)

Guess I might as well go and do some painting and then all I have to worry about is going on a supermodel-designed crash diet and hoovering the house. Wooo.

A hiccup and some good ideas

The good ideas come from a FB friend who I find very interesting; her ideas come from a book by Julia Cameron called 'The Artists' Way' which is concerned with inspiration, motivation, the processes of being an artist. The two things she mentioned are the 'Morning Pages' and the 'Artist's Date'. The former consists of sitting down and writing for three pages straight without 'thinking' about it, thus gradually finding your 'inner voice'. Although I usually do it at night, my blog has the same aim, although I could not have put the idea to paper so eloquently. I do know that writing and thinking has become a good bit easier (and my typing speed quicker) over the course of the year. I guess it has impacted on my painting too, but that would be hard to gauge as so many things have changed over the last 12 months which have affected the way I work. Mostly positive, miraculously.

The 'Artists' Date' is also something I am familiar with but had not formally identified; I know that I work better after one of my 'wanders' ; to a craft fair, gallery, bookshop, or even a garden.

Somehow it kick-starts the creative process by getting all the images running through my mind, and probably helping with relaxation too. Ordered the book (second hand) from Amazon.

The hiccup... comes in the form of a slightly negative survey of the property we are hoping to rent for the gallery~cafe. I don't have the full details and will have to wait over the weekend (cheers) to see them, but the words 'damp' and 'timbers' were mentioned. Call me optimistic, but I would be really surprised if the survey of a tenement didn't include these words.. as least the dreaded 'subsidence' isn't present. The way I see it; as long as the work isn't too prohibitive, it is preferable to starting all over again looking for another comparable property in terms of location, size, specification etc. which may or may not exist at this time or within the next six months. By then we will be out of work, temping or begging and fast running through our savings. So. Bring on the damp and lets hope we can get it sorted within a reasaonable budget, bearing in mind the above alternative. Fingers crossed. We had the same problem buying our house and used the same solution; gradual renovation within budget to achieve the aim over time. Patience.

Gathering

Building up a small, but growing collection of small paintings on my sideboard, destined for the gallery we are opening in a couple of months. Spending plenty of quality time looking for other artists to show as well, which is one of the reasons I am looking forward to getting into the business. Hope to find some good companions for this little lot.

Break and Decoration

A truly lovely and optimistic day despite the appalling Edinburgh drizzle doing its best to dampen the procedures and lower spirits. They were not to be lowered today. Took the bus in to allow wandering and started with our meeting at Pagan Osborne in their lovely offices on Queen Street; whipped off my dodgy green knitted hat (made by the cook on the Buddhist meditation retreat I attended two years ago; treasured possession) before entering and tried to look as professional as possible when rain bedraggled and feeling scruffy due to the bizarre decision not to wash my hair this morning. Meeting ended talking about renovation of New Town houses and their curvy doors, which was the greater part of the time as all we really needed to do and know was over in a few minutes. Hand over passports and address ID, sign some paper and confirm that 1st April is a practical start date (Yessss!!) and that was that. All we have to do is wait with optimism that the survey doesn't reveal anything too hideous and we.. are... go.........!!!

Already booked a guy to sand the floor as he did our back room and was so laid back and cheap that there was no other choice. How cool is is going to look.. had a shifty at the Farrow and Ball shop for paint on our travels today as well. Great, despite wanting to head-butt a 'workie' who watched me caressing paint brushes and observed that 'they're all the same and you should go to B&Q.' Obviously likes his walls with added hair. Muttered that I was an artist and rather liked brushes, but left of the expletives I wished to add. Far too nice a day for picking fights with morons.

Checked out the Flaubert Gallery in Stockbridge; nothing particular caught my eye apart from a couple of gorgeous drawings by Blythe Scott. Looked her up tonight and just love all of her paintings; amazing colour, light, pattern... and they are architectural, which is so not usually me. Hoping, hoping we might get to show some in Bon Papillon; I'm looking in earnest for painters and ceramics for the kick-off show and for the rest of the year; be good to get an outline of what I aim to do before it all gets crazy and my mind is pulled in all directions.

The other really good show we saw today was Alexander Fraser, at the Scottish Gallery. Freakishly similar to what I have been mulling in my brain for my own development; still life based but with amazing flights of fancy and imagination developing across the canvas. Muted but stunning colour and humour too; in a good way. Find it very hard to believe I haven't seen any before; maybe I have... but not often. He is RSA, RSW, so must have been in some of the shows I have been perusing over the past years, surely? Great show and lots of it too; whole top floor of the gallery, which is usually split into two.

Now thinking of dinner and a movie after playing with our new jigsaw, priming up canvases and booking our so, so much needed break to Amsterdam. Can't believe it's been a year and a half without a trip abroad; this will be an amazing wee time for us in the few days leading up to 'renovation'; get some more good ideas too no doubt. Pack the cameras and sketchbooks... and a damn good pair of walking shoes if I know Stu like I know Stu.....

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Ah, Valentines day... a.k.a. *the one we ignore*. Having worked in the hospitality industry for over ten years and served I don't know how many over-priced, thoughtless meals, I am not about to celebrate it now. However, I am not immune to thoughts of lurve, I just dislike condensing them into a cheesy love-fest for 24 hours. How about this for love: having met my gorgeous Chef, I embarked on a fourteen year career in catering to enable our relationship to flourish despite his ungodly working hours. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em very much the logic behind the decision. (Although 'decision' is really too strong a word, it was really just swimming with the tide.) Now I realise that I am not the only one to bend myself to fit our partnership; the self confessed 'art heathen' has gradually reached the point that last night I was greeted by the 'artmag' being poked in my face with suggestion of visiting the Jeff Koons exhibition. (As a side issue, he can now also differentiate between a Galliano and a Gaultier, my witchy witchy work again...) I will never forget our first visit to the Musee Picasso in Paris, watching the scepticism turn to joy and wonder as we walked the rooms; last time we were in the city I was dragged forcibly to the Rodin museum, berated for not having disclosed its location before.

Leopards and spots, books and covers... maybe not so clear cut...

The birth of Bon

Had a good little 'at peace with the world day' today; all ticking along like tickety-boo. Woke up early but not tired and received my regulation tea in bed (can't fault the boy for that one) before driving aforementioned boy into his work. Okay, maybe a shade of blackmail involved but who's counting? Returned in the morning drizzle to complete my business plan - as ever the finishing was very much a whimper rather than a bang - and patted myself on the back before heading 'cross town to Ritchie's gallery. It has been a long, lean winter of Sundays gallery sitting - I enjoy the solitude and peace to paint but feel faintly guilty being paid to do it. Today at last we had a return to form on the customer front; I have heard echoes of this sentiment during the week, that the great hibernation was over, but it is good to see it in person.

Helped that it was Valentine's eve, so quite a few seeking cards and gifts, including the very lovely individual who treated his love to one of my Angel/cat paintings. I know in my heart that it is never a bad thing to paint cats, but fear it as the pigeonhole is daunting. Mad cat lady. I know I'm headed that way in a fast car anyway and think Bridget Bardot had far more credibility in her animal sanctuary years, but there is still a nub of resistance...

Also had one of those wonderful and spontaneous days of painting when it all just goes right. Been pondering colour again and why I manage to screw it up so often; I think it is the fear. When I am relaxed and 'in the mood' it all comes together because I have no reticence in application. Sad mood or blue mood = blue. Literally. Seems I can't break away from the colour when I am thinking too much and before you know it there is yet another tonal study in shades of sky and ocean. Would matter less if it was a picture of sky and ocean, but it rarely/never is.

So tonight, in between thinking about a new website and writing a resignation letter, I am gazing lovingly at the second stage of 'Parade for the birth of Bon'. Bon, of course, is the butterfly on the logo of my new business, so the painting is self explanatory in an autobiographical way. Time for a small box canvas to keep me on my toes; the big one can wait for better light.

Director's cut

Bateau-Lavoir Days is coming to its final weeks! I had always intended to to the full year until events took over and the long awaited business plans began to snowball. Now I find myself suddenly the Director of a new company alongside my co-director Stu, looking into the abyss. Luckily, from where I'm standing right now, (and that's after my SWOT analysis for the final pages of the business plan), it all looks pretty green and lush down in the abyss. Flowers, waterfalls, little animals skipping among verdant pastures, you get the image. Kind of like in Jurassic Park but with less Velociraptors. Have I ever mentioned that Twig the kit makes a noise like a Velociraptor, or at least like the ones in the movie when they are tweaking things in the kitchen looking for the child actors...

In my own little movie I am just reaching a turn of the reel - the 'cigarette burns'. One roll is coming off and another going on marked 'Bon Papillon'. If all goes to plan, and that is how we start every sentence at the moment, I will swap reels on my blog at the end of March, as we return from our much, much needed break in Amsterdam and embark on the new and wonderful experience that I am quite sure self employment will be. Thing is, if there is one thing I love it is learning, and something tells me that the curve is about to get sharper. Woo hoo.

OOt on the TOOn

Must be a milestone of sorts; met up with wonderful old college friend tonight and actually went into town.. into not one, but two bars... attended a private view full of interesting art and fashion related people! Now this has not happened for a very.. long.. time. Part of this is due to the year of poverty and my now second nature miserliness/frugality, but part is also due to a growing fear of reverting to such situations after such an absence, and sober to boot!

Glad to report that I am still able to talk rubbish, put the world to rights and buy unneccessary accessories without the aid of alcohol; no practice required either, I was like a duck to water. The early bed-time is probably the only thing that has changed (and the horror of spending a tenner on two drinks and some olives) and that is only due to the limiting factor of drinking fizzy water. It just doesn't sustain one as alcohol does, fails to propel the body forth on a night of mystery and intrigue in quite the same way. I get, you know, tired and start to think in a far-too-rational way about dinner, slippers and cat feeding. Still, it is a good compromise between my recent life of the ascetic and the dimmer past of debauchery and waste.

I just know that when Stu gets back from his night at the stove I will feel like Bill Murray in 'Lost in Translation' talking on the phone about his night out in Tokyo.. 'it was in this really, really great house... there were Japaneses surfers there..'

No surfers in fact, but I did meet an impossibly structured Scandinavian model who looked like another species, but was very pleasant, and a Siberian-Estonian artist who knew my work. Woh.... freaky. And cool. Must get out more:)

Ebb and Flow

'I come back to you now, at the turn of the tides...' Good old Gandalf in Lord of the Rings (Peter Jackson version, can't remember if he says that in the book and am not about to flick through to find out. Just totally feeling that now. People I haven't heard from for years keep appearing in my life, long stories unknown to me and such long paths travelled from where they last diverged.

I have the feeling that always comes in spring, the beginning, rebirth, emerging, stretching to the sun.. but this year is is even more so. I feel like running everywhere and have done so on a few occasions this week, probably making myself look like a loon and not caring. In sleet and snow, running down Dundas Street to meet old friends at the Royal Academy building; thinking how this has been my home for so long now that I would feel like a tourist in London. I like to follow the eyes of the visitors as they gaze at buildings to try and see what they are seeing, as they see it; for the first time, in wonder.

Part of me is dissolusioned with people and their bitchy little ways, but I feel that if I just shake my shoulders they will fall away and leave me with the solid people I can trust and be comfortable with. I can feel the wind turning and the chance to take flight, make a great leap 'beyond myself'. Don't laugh, it is happening.

Cat Crazytown

A vintage night for lovers of cats' crazy little ways in my house tonight. Apologies to those of you without sympathy for the mad ways of our furry friends, but lets face it, you are wrong. They are cool, funny and good in bed (in a strictly platonic sense before those eyebrows shoot up); not many people can match up to that.

First Twig indulged in some light sweater hunting while I was on the phone to my mum; leaping from the top of the door to my (open plan) wardrobe thingy she stalked my furry brown jumper, stealthily winding between Stu's shirts before pouncing dramatically, catching the jumper quite unawares. Much kneading ensued, while clamping the jumper in her little teeth to prevent escape (naturally) until it was subdued; then it was speedily and efficiently carried to the lair (under desk) for more pummelling. And then discarded, forgotten. Had I not been in the room, crying with laughter, I would now be wondering how the hell my brown furry jumper ended up under the desk. Or more likely having the living bejesus scared out of me on entering the bedroom and spying an alien brown animal lurking in wait for me in the shadows....

Act two: all quiet in the living room working at the computer, cats arranged in artful cat positions on furniture when all at once from another part of the house we hear a *BIG NOISE*. Cats assume face and posture that translates as 'Mum! We heard a *BIG NOISE* from out there somewhere!!' They remain frozen, ears back and flat to the ground as 'mum' daringly creeps from room to room to find the cause; 'guard cats?' I think not...

Only to find the poor Amarylis (rescued from under the sink in a box not two weeks ago where it had begun to force its way out of the cardboard) has toppled to its fate on the bathroom floor...

Cleaning up the compost and water is hampered by the suddenly mobile furry friends deciding to help by digging, snuffling, dancing in the damn stuff. I suppose I should be grateful that the word 'earthtray' didn't occur to them in time or I would be cleaning up cat poop (again) as well..

Mush head

My brain has been turned to paste by hours of figure crunching for the meeting with my Business bank manager tomorrow. Went out and about for yet more research of competitor businesses, local attractions and the like, which was educational and relaxing, but spent the rest of the day glued to the laptop, fingers tapping and coggs churning in my brain.

Have to confess that I think I am pretty sure what I am doing now in a way that I wasn't before I started writing the business plan thingy and I am also now adept at financial planning..

That is something I really didn't expect to have to be, but I do actually understand what I have been reading; it kind of falls into place eventually, Here's me thinking all these years that I was a lost cause when it comes to maths, but there is a glimmer of understanding in there and with the right conditions and a little spit and polish it can be coaxed into something useful.

Like blowing on the embers of a fire...

Passed through the Botanic Gardens on my travels and remembered how much I love the smell of late winter/early spring in places with many plants; just that mulchy, wet, green smell and the tiniest hints of things stirring and coming slowly out of their winter stupour. Much like me, really. Sadly didn't get to start on the painting for my logo of 'Bon Papillon' the butterfly, but I couldn't do it when I had too little time or it would have gone horribly wrong. It is going to be part of the larger painting I have been working on, now called 'Parade for the birth of Bon'.

Woo hoo. On with that tomorrow if I am reallly lucky and the computer work doesn't eat up another whole day...

Behind the door

Still suffering the cleaning-up rituals associated with a cat who seems to have a permanent dodgy tummy without showing any symptoms or results in all the tests the vet has subjected her to. Worrying that my house will smell of cat poo to a visitor as we are becoming fast immune to it; reaching for the anti-bac wipes (floor) and then baby wipes (cat bum) is starting to feel like the normal routine when entering the house from work. I wonder if in this lies the answer ;when we are not present we have no problems, our lovely girl seems to like our participation in the cleaning process... she is a deeply strange cat with numerous neurotic habits, so who's to say this isn't the latest incarnation of her funny little mind?

Not that I can talk; my worrying is legendary but I impressed even myself today. Leaving work and walking down the street I was suddenly gripped by a worry - 'what was it I was supposed to be worrying about?' That was the literal sentence that formed in my head, and I had to find the answer (cat and poo) before setting off on my way again. I am the archetypal mad person who worries that they don't have anything to worry about. Slippery slope...

Just reading a story about an obsessive hoarder and thinking, 'there but for the grace...'. It does beg the age old question of 'What is normal?'.

I'm thinking of Dash's outburst in 'The Incredibles' (who says we have to quote highbrow?):

'Normal?!! What does anyone in this family know about normal??' I spend worry time thinking about my mother talking/singing to herself and then, surprise, catch myself doing it. Plus ca change (plus c'est la meme chose).

Thankfully small Hiccup

Weather kicking up a storm today; one of the poor little thorn trees in Morningside has upended.

Managed to lose one of my lovely wrist warmer gloves in Queen Street or thereabouts while battling the very Scottish wind; sad when they are some of the only things I have treated myself to in the last 12 months. Bleedin' typical.

Very grown up meeting indeed with the solicitors today but managed to come away jubilant; not with that sneaking hunch that you are trying to punch above your weight. Feels weird discussing sums of money and events that I never dreamed might actually come to fruition, but comforted myself in the ususal manner of imagining things (as they are) as just bits of paper and figures. It really is all like a big game of make believe; no-one really has the money or the right to own a property, its all abstract in the great scheme of things. All seems pretty easy when you look at it that way. Just been filling in a form for Stu's new passport having realised that he 'doesn't exist' in the eyes of the law right now in terms of opening bank accounts, engaging solicitors etc.... I love these little hiccups!

Stats

Hours spent on business plan after day's work at supermarket - 4

Times played John Grant album to sooth process - 4

Times wiped E45 cream on cat's bum in the last 24 hours - 2

Number of cups of tea consumed - 5

Number of colleagues at dayjob now aware of business plans - 3

Time of appointment with Solicitor to start ball rolling on property - 9.30

Number of raindrops falling at present outside - 9 zillion

Number of snowflakes forcast to fall before solicitors appointment - 9 zillion

Days left to complete business plan before next finance meeting - 4

Pieces of paper consumed in recording facts and figures for marketing plan - 15

Hours of sleep predicted tonight during storm, worrying about meeting - 2

Conversations with self about cats/ cleaning / tea - 5

Times got annoyed on phone after promising not to answer it - 2

Minutes left to perform household chores and make dinner before Stu arrives - 35

Not bad, I might just do it.

Dare to Hope

That we might just be getting somewhere at last... saw a great property today that would potentially be just exactly what we are looking for. Looking down on the central city skyline from a leafy place.. great light and space, and more importantly that 'good' feeling that some places give you. Feng shui, I guess. So now I am head down and writing, writing, thinking, writing to get the business plan finished, ideas all out of paper. Problem is that they come so thick and fast I sometimes have a job remembering everything. Caught up with excellent and very creative friend today who added fuel to the flames with still more ideas, and also offered practical help in decorating and support; all very welcome. Briefly, tantalisingly, feel as if I could take on the world today, the naysayers, the cynics and doubters. I felt like running today for the first time in a long, long time; so I ran to the supermarket and back. Felt good.

The wolves are behind me now, I can feel them; I am finally in the mood to really write and think my heart out for the sake of our little future. Cross everything you've got.

Oh, and almost forgot - my painting of the Scottish Parliament has been included in a calendar competition I entered; potential for show of pics at the Parliament too and cards/related merchandise. That's all next year's Christmas pressies sorted then:)