These shots were taken one morning walking to work through the QVB / Town Hall area. They capture the ‘bustle’ that the city breathes at that time of the morning. People walk; headphones in; on a mission to get to their destination before 9am. There’s a lot of dodging and the odd person who clearly isn’t employed as they meander oblivious to everyone ducking and weaving around them.

http://www.flickr.com/apps/slideshow/show.swf?v=71649

http://www.flickr.com/apps/slideshow/show.swf?v=71649

29 Shattered Glass Door

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Beep. One one thousand, two one thousand. Beep. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. Beep. One one thousand. Beep.

Wouldn’t it be better if the irritating noise had a consistent pattern? The noise – let me call it something – hmmm… Garth-weck-er… visits nightly at about 11pm. Garth-weck-er has all the charm of a dripping tap. But he is not a dripping tap. He is like a dishwasher clicking on and off the heat cycle. But he isn’t a dishwasher. I have no idea what Garth-weck-er is, other than inconsistent in rhythm but bloody annoying nonetheless. The moment I think he’s gone – beep, one one thousand, two one thousand BACK!

But enough groaning. The highlight of the weekend, was stumbling across the art of Tomasz Setowski while surfing the web. Imaginary, whimsical realism. Painted with precision and a delightful – indeed enviable – use of colour.

The second highlight of the weekend was progress. I painted sides of canvasses – 12 sides in total. I put on coats of varnish. I sold some items on ebay as part of my mission to have at least the same number of items exit, as enter, my limited space. I made a batch of stewed apple. I survived 20 minutes on the treadmill at the gym with the incline turned on. I flawlessly gave chilli her pills 2 nights in a row. These are all little things… but added together they start to outweigh any others. And now I’d like another little thing (greedy, aren’t I?) I’d like garth-weck-er to shut up, so it’s just me, the cicadas and sleep!

I went in search of crinkled taffeta… like that featured in this much love brown and autumn coloured skirt. I had dreams of making something similar – maybe in deep wine or burgundy colours.

I came home with this instead.

Unlike crinkled taffeta, perfectly smooth. Unlike crinkled taffeta, will require ironing. Unlike crinkle taffeta, will require lining. But it’s pretty!!! (The colours here are unfortunately misrepresented – you need to imagine a more greenish-brown-gold tinge to the fabric; far warmer than it appears in this shot. And also imagine, without the cat. I know it’s difficult as she sticks her nose in everything I’m doing, but she will not be part of the accessories to this outfit!)

One of a kind alarm clock. Never before seen at auction. Dimensions: about 60kg. Will not fit in luggage. Special features: wakes only at 3:30am. Comes with mad but sweet tortoise shell cat. Two parts will not be sold separately.

Art of Everyday – inspire me thursday

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Some days working for a not for profit is a frustrating exercise. I remember a few years ago there was a survey of staff. One of the key findings was around the built environment. People complained about what the office looked like. I recall being surprised. I never really thought about the fact the chairs didn’t match. That generally the only “good” chair is the one you sit on all day – meetings rooms and tables get all the rejects. I didn’t pay much attention to the ‘decor’. After all, it is a not for profit. It is functions does it really matter if it’s slightly out of fashion?

But this afternoon I found myself feeling quite frustrated. In most businesses, employees wouldn’t be waiting until “after hours” to complete tasks because it might crash the server. And while I didn’t crash the server, the server crashed my file. So then I chopped it up into smaller bits, so it wouldn’t time out. I could complete 10,000 records at a time, but as soon as I tried for 15,000 it died. It’s days like this when working in a not for profit is frustrating.

But on days like this I remind myself that I’m not working 70 hours a week to make a profitable company even more profitable. It doesn’t make the frustration vanish, but it eases it a little. Hopefully with a good night sleep, I will go back in tomorrow and find the server has crunched my file overnight. If it rejects it, guess I’ll spend some time tomorrow making the one big file, a few smaller files and try again tomorrow after most people have logged out for the day. Thank goodness this project only comes around once a year.

Different Day Same Location

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Don’t adjust your screens… it is almost the same photograph as a couple of entries ago – she’s just turned around! She’s exhausted from all the energy that she has been using up trying to avoid taking her calming tablets.

My experience with chill is almost like one of those classic pet owner / tablet comedy sketches.

Buried in cheese… what is that mum? Some strange yellow thing I’m not touching.

Crushed up in cream. Two licks. Nice try mum but I ain’t drinking that.

Buried in one small piece of chicken. Said piece of chicken devoured around the edges and tiny piece with tablet left in it… well, left!

So after all that I resorted to the traditional method of pushing the tablet in her mouth and rubbing under her chin to get her to swallow. This won me 3 victories, although not without the tablet being spat out at least once. It also handed victory to chill who after three times of spitting it out left me with a slimy tablet that I had not the slightest inclination to try to push into her mouth a third time. Her second victory was far less dramatic… she simply pretended to swallow and when I let go she spat it out in disgust.

I advised my mother of the 3 to 2 scoreboard. She had one final suggestion – put a bit of butter around the tablet and maybe when I put that in her mouth she would suck the butter because it tasted good and swallow.

No prizes for guessing… she sucked the butter – every last bit of the butter – and then spat out the tablet. So I took a deep breath, picked up the tablet and had another go.

The score now stands at 4 to 2 my way!

I have no voice. Zero. Nothing. Nil. Zip. Diddly-squat. I just tried to call my cat from the other room and not surprisingly she didn’t come. One could argue that this is just part of normal cat behaviour. Or that perhaps she is still holding a grudge for the pills I’ve been – TRYING – to pop down her throat. But the most plausible explanation is that she just didn’t hear the squeak that come out of my mouth. Whispers really don’t travel a long way!

Lone daisy

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

You’ve heard of light speed right? But I wonder is there such a thing as world speed? I don’t mean the speed at which the earth spins. I am referring to the speed at which people live. We have all these things to make our lives quicker and easier. I don’t need to go out to shop, I can use the internet and have it delivered to my door. Banks aren’t required when cash comes from ATMs, or EFTPOS at the supermarket… or then again, no cash at all – just all on cards. People can now write blog entries on their iphones while sitting on public transport. (Not me… no iphone here)

What’s the point in all this? Well, I want to know why in an age where there are all these things to save time, people are always so busy. Perhaps being a single person, I notice this more. When friends get busy, they retreat into their nucleus family. Their lives become a rotating wheel of family committments, engagements and tasks. I phone, email, or text them, but after a while I think that I’m just being annoying so tend to stop. I recently had a friend point out to me that single people can be just as busy; it’s not marital status or coupledom that causes this busy nature. And I’m sure that they are right… after all look at someone like the Dalai Lama – he’s single and he is a very busy man! Still, I’m sure that children make many people time poor as they go from a succession of day care, through school, weekend sports, music lessons and who knows what else.

When I get in these moods I try to remind myself that it’s just a bit of loneliness. It can’t kill me, it can’t hurt me. I have a roof over my head, I have money to pay bills, I have food. If I can just distract myself for a little bit, this will soon go.

So given the only contact with someone else I’m likely to have this evening is my cat… perhaps it’s time to stop pondering the busy lifestyle of others and make myself busy with a spot of painting… or perhaps I should chop up some of those strawberries, throw on some alcohol and then heat them up for dessert.