Wednesday, March 29, 2017
There are a few pages in one of my notebooks where I jot down things I feel I 'ought to' do daily (and another section for 'weekly', and one for 'monthly') in order to have a good day insofar far as my own actions and choices can influence it. It has grown to quite a substantial list, and if I were to run through this list every day, it would leave me exhausted and frantic, but I like to write things down when they occur to me or when I come across advice that I think might be useful to incorporate, and it serves as a choose-from menu rather than a to-do list.
The 'daily' things range from kitchen tasks such as 'clear all the dishes, make kefir and soak almonds before going to bed' to work-related activities, for example doing a daily sketch and using paints in some form.
We all know what we can do to be happier, healthier and better people, but so often we choose not to do those things, at times to the point of sabotage.
Some items on my list have become habits by now, such as doing yoga (almost) daily and going for a walk or working in the garden. Others I dip into and then might forget for weeks or months until I return to them. What I am likely to forget or ignore I try to tie to another activity, until it becomes a habit to do B while doing A. For example, I stand on one leg while brushing my teeth or filling the water filter (balancing on one leg is one of the easier exercises I should be doing two or three times a week for my patellofemoral pain syndrome) and having all the windows in the house open for the four minutes the coffee is brewing.
Recent additions include washing my eyes every morning (an ayurvedic practice I didn't know about) and drinking matcha tea every afternoon instead of every now and again. I cannot say whether my eyes are actually more refreshed, but I love the strange feeling of splashing cold water into them, and just thinking of all the green in matcha tea gives me a boost when drinking it.
My daily painting these days can be for hours on days I work from home or quick sketches with acrylics when time is short. I finally, finally am going through all the photographs I took of the view from the chalet, where I lived for almost seven years, and from our new house (with a very similar view, as it is just seven minutes further west and on a similar height) and making them into small paintings.
Monday, March 20, 2017
We were in London for the weekend, and we couldn't leave the marvel that is Foyles without buying books. While I get overwhelmed by big cities and crowds, this trip was a tonic in various ways, and the books we got are extending that effect.
On the way over, my reading material for the flight was the tiny, almost weightless Penguin book of Katherine Mansfield stories that resides on the top of a pile of books in the guest room (I always appreciate it when rooms or cafés have books, so this was important to me). I thought I had perfected the art of travelling light, but on the way back our carry-on luggage was stuffed full with the aforementioned books and quite a lot of baby things for the newest family member, as John couldn't stop himself amidst the gorgeous prints and embroidery.
Reading Mansfield on the plane reminded me of how much I adore her work, so one of the books I sought out was a selection of her stories along with essays and correspondence. The other one I happened upon when browsing the A to Z of artists: a new edition of this biography of Vanessa Bell. Unfortunately we didn't get to see the exhibition in the Dulwich Picture Gallery. Through my work in the University (there is a Roger Fry painting in the art collection and research being undertaken around this) the Bloomsbury group has been on my mind, so I am very excited. This is one of those books I think I should take my time with in order to make it last longer, but I have a feeling I won't be able to stop reading.
I love the epigraph, and while I don't necessarily agree with Murdoch, not being particularly good at happiness myself (reading this after viewing paintings by artists who ended up committing suicide didn't help), I get what she means and I do "live with" my craft and consider myself lucky.
Being immersed in the beauty of the writing by one of the masters of the short story and in Vanessa Bell's circle (not to forget the gallery visits and tiny anchors on yellow fabric!) has made me eager to get back to the easel and most certainly is a source of happiness right now.
Monday, March 13, 2017
It feels good to return to my normal routine after weeks of working for a festival. I spent yesterday morning in a cleaning frenzy - I had missed domestic chores when my only time at home over the last few weeks was occupied by sleep. Some people thrive on working for events and being surrounded by people and getting home late, but I am not one of them, although I do enjoy all the design work.
This year I also ended up doing the festival artwork again. I didn't even know what a Victorian bathing machine was five months ago.
I created two versions - one in coloured pencils, placed on a flat background, which I used for the invites and for the web, and one in acrylics for the posters and the programmes.
Now that all the stress (a word I swore I would not use anymore but that left my lips at least once per day) has fallen away, I look forward to following my Victorian lady's lead and immersing myself in the water of the local hotel swimming pool, courtesy of John, who got me a voucher, and soon the beckoning sea.