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Feeling frustrated

It’s the ninth layer of paint

Shadows, highlights, washes and glazes

It remains a work in progress

The frustration is becoming deep set as the image on the canvas does not equate to the visual within my mind.

With each wash, the colour retreats and the process of development commences once again.

Compatible to one’s self, is it not?

Like the creation of a painting, we too can only evolve with introspection.

Stripping back, erasing the failings in order to fine tune the most beneficial.

How long is the process?

What is the quantity of washes we require to recreate our own vision of ideal?

Define your being!


The YouTube wormhole

The wormhole, once entered, I begin to swim along the tide.

Inspirational, influential,do I know these individuals?

Becoming absorbed within the parallel universe.

A vacuum suddenly plummets me into the bars of my room,

The bars I created, society created,life created

Am I living the dream, the ‘norm’, the idyll that these others, the influencers, are projecting through the screen to me?

Am I?

I do not look into a cupboard to decide which matching bowl from John Lewis, to use for my yogurt.

Firstly I cannot afford anything from John Lewis and secondly, does it matter?

Questions, questions, always a question floating aimlessly around my brain.

Turn off the noise, select the cracked bowl

Is it aesthetically pleasing?


Does it hold the yoghurt?



What a day for

Kicking my backside into gear

Is the day that was now yesterday ( try saying that quickly).

I awoke later than planned therefore,tick list automatic fail.

Product sales certainly not following the trajectory I had envisioned……. Biscuits absentmindedly entering my oral cavity…….two pounds weight increase – another day unable to comfortably seeing my feet.

Parcels wrapped and placed carefully in a fully working automobile. Husband ready and prepared for the onslaught of tut tutting, deep sighing and do not forget, eye rolling, from the post office customers AND staff.

I return home, allow three extremely happy dogs to relieve themselves, then we all settle down inside. Ohhhh no we do not!!! The eleven month old, rather huge Doberman, decides mum must entertain her every whim. The older two,very compact and small fluff balls, splay out on the sofa showing clear distain for the clumsy, irritating puppy. It is questionable whether they are sending telepathic messages to my mind ” why, whyyyy, what did we do to deserve this?”

If you have ever watched ‘Marley and me’, cast your mind back to the puppy stage of Marley……. that is a true comparative to my present situation. Whilst this chaos ensues I have to photograph, write description and upload stock onto my sites. Slow process with a dog slobbering over my head.

When I thought things were going so wonderful (absorb the hint of sarcasm), the husband facetimes me. The car has made some alarming noise and now deceased. Engine bye bye. Absolutely fabulous, thank you very much. No money in the kitty however on a plus… Son lends us his car, yay!

The following hours… Youngest develops pus on tonsils, productive cough, not forgetting a wonderful pyrexia. Nurse hat on, I alter role from business woman, dog sitter/trainer, wife, to brow mopper to adult child. Oh the joys.

So at 03.06 hours I am scouting for virtual assistant work to boost my income, preparing items to list in four hours time, organising online gp appointment times and thinking of how many ways I could earn a living alongside my own business.

Ouch…… I have a sore throat rearing its ugly head now….what joy!

Sweet dreams

And here’s a painting in process… A great deal to do yet.

All those good intentions

Does your day commence with all good intentions?

To live, be it internally or externally, to societal expectation?

Do you begin with defiance, standing firm that today you will change and follow your destiny?

On this day my carefully drafted list appeared neatly on the page.

I would ensure the business plan was at its optimum. Every ailment,be it menopause related or hypochondria central, would evaporate into magical sparkles.

Did my hours go according to my agenda?



Time to smell roses, dance in the rain, laugh, cry, be!!!

Nothing makes sense anyway.

Anybody out there?

It has passed midnight and I am optimistic that I will actually sleep tonight. Last night was a complete no show! My frequent excursions to the bathroom, because some bright spark decided to slurp tea until late evening, put pay to restful slumber. As I actually stated that fact … a Eureka moment washed over my being…. I have just emptied a bucket of tea again. Will I ever learn?

Anyway, this evening (morning) before I settle down to this sleeping malarky, I would like to ask (beg), if you could share with me some ideas for my artwork. A word or a theme that i could build upon, if you would be so kind :). I am hoping to create a series of paintings, poetry and written rambles encompassing the theme or word/words I am presented with. Your input would be gratefully received

Okay, I am begging pleasssseeeeeeeeee.

I have reached the age of … Sorry application denied

As I scrutinize every detail of my recently updated CV, I cannot help but wonder if my age has finally labelled me…. Ancient!

It could be surmised that I have been exceedingly lucky to have never experienced job application rejection, until now. There is something quite raw about it. It cuts quite deep! It has raised the question, am I too old to be employed within roles I know I am extremely competent in? I have also applied for positions that I have no prior experience however, transferable skills and my present self employed role will surely stand for something?

To be honest I did not particularly want the posts I applied and was thrown on the scrap heap for. I just require a supplementary, remote role, that allows me to continue with my present online self employment. The ultimate job role would be as a writer however, I just need to keep on dreaming with that one.

Returning to the facts, do I question whether my tender age of 53 is now too old. To not be considered for posts that I have over thirty years experience in, results in the vomit rising just a tad.

Well age is just a number…….. Did not want the job anyway 😉

The bewitching hour- a ramble

It has arrived

The soothing droplets of rain tap rhythmically upon my window

In the distance, the hoot of the owl creates an off beat,distorting the musical rift.

And here I lay, trying to achieve my zen, attempting miserably to sleep. The musings of my brain have better ideas.

A brief interlude whilst my bladder demands yet another visit to the lavatory. ‘Lavatory’, now there is a word which sounds rather regal. As you read that statement, did your inner voice enact an extremely posh English accent? I heard Lady Adelaide Stitch, the character from Nanny Mcphee 2.

As I try to calm my internal chatter and restore serenity (okay maybe the term ‘serenity’is pushing the imagery to the max. I have never managed to achieve that to date… But I will!). I think this post is getting pointless as I appear to be on a road to nowhere. Soooo, I have decided to share some of my new art class work with you. I have never partook in the artsy world before however, I decided to dip my toe in and between you and me… I am loving it. It is definitely a form of escapism. The mind switches off and I become this floating jello of nothingness. It is my happy zone.

Months have passed

Months have passed since my last post

The trajectory of my life seemingly not as I had envisioned. I am devoid of creative expression, intellectual stimulation, instead, running unwittingly on a perpetual wheel.

Each evening I prepare the page of ‘to do’s’, listings, complete with neatly positioned tick boxes. The mundane, the routine, the life changers and please do not forget the obligatory…. Exercise [], Stick to diet today [], meditate []. The following day arrives, good intention is in the lead, hoover out, computer revving it’s engine, coffee in the cup. Tick, tick, tick.

Complete some laundry, feed the pets, housework, reply to emails,send out the stock offers,prepare listings, print the labels- tick, tick, bloody tick. Off I trot to the unit to locate, pack and post items, stock take, order supplies followed by drive home, cuppa, sort the pets before transforming into a photographer. Transform the said images onto my account and list some stock. Food, tick, food aligned to the Doctor Moseley program? Negative! Exercise, ermmmmm ? Meditation? Could the twenty minute snooze equate to a meditation?

And the day commences again.

She is firing on all cylinders

It is all seemingly disjointed
In this world of hormonal hell
My physical self buckling and the tears continue to cascade
Pooling within the deepening creases of my visage.
Within, rages a torrent of disarray
A discord between who I am from nanosecond to nanosecond
The serenity replacement unrecognisable…. As the jaw tenses
The world construed by the menopausal self
No longer sedately absorbing the beauty of the surroundings

And the tears rise again like the phoenix from the ashes.