I bought these knives on a market stall last week. Their colour is my favourite green; fresh and mossy, a 1930's dulled, creamy emerald. They are also small, reduced and I like petite things, despite the fact that I am tall. I think we are all comfortable, fit with certain shapes, dimensions and places. What objects and spaces we chose (or have chosen for us) are part of who we have become, influence where we are going. These ideas evoke this artists' work. I spend a lot of time in my theatre work standing in circles. A perfect, divine, but also closed shape. These knives are hallmarked with the letters EPNS. I have discovered, this means Electro Plated Nickel Silver, a technique used to fuse silver to the top and bottom of a sheet of copper or base metal. The knives are perfect for spreading peanut butter, soft ewe's cheese and mushroom paté on toast. Their almost blunt edges and slight size means they are also perfect for chubby two year old fingers and little six year old hands. Since they've been in our possession, they've been used everyday; the little green knives are gently cutting their way into our history. Their shape fits neatly into our lives.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Today we all awoke and they ate pancakes made with spelt flour. I sipped endless cups of green tea with smoked rice and crunched on yesterday's baguette. It feels like Spring is nearly here, an almost soft emerald touches the trees. Dreaming of holidays, road trips down South and an appartment that I have booked in Spain, I think of climbing mountains daily, imagine my feet pounding, the view from the top. These broad-backed dinosaurs carry my dreams.
Yesterday I cleaned the house in a rage. Strangely enough, I observed a while back, I often clean with anger. I scrubbed and I swept and I scraped and I hoovered. I do my best cleaning furious. The house was beautiful once I had finished; outlined, sharp and new.
Friday, 19 March 2010
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
I've been reading this book. I love these old non-fiction Penguins, the muted colours of the covers and the old-fashioned, articulate texts. I have a secret collection at home. I've been understanding the sociological and anthropological background and the tales behind the stories of Greek myths. It's archeological, like hebraic study where scholars examine the bits and pieces that make up each word, scratching behind the syllabuls to the root of language, revealing a million meanings. In Grave's book myths are dissected, retold, understood through History. I learnt that the Three Fates invented the vowels of the first alphabet, that Palamedes added eleven consonants and that Hermes reduced these sounds to charcaters, using wedge shapes inspired by the formations of flying cranes.
Saturday, 13 March 2010
Today we walked to the granite city. We wearily trudged by the lapping sea, bitten by the chill of the wind and went to meet friends for coffee. We chatted and drank dark strong bleu de bresil. Outside, our kids were playing. Outside, my youngest daughter ran. In the sunny cobbled street, under the blue sky, she walked backwards and then ran down ' WEEeeeeeee'. After a while I went out and crouched down, and she fell into my arms at the end of each race, joy on her two year-old face. 'WWeeeeeeee' and ' Boooom' colliding flesh and emotion. She loves running my littlist girl. She loves planes, trains and automobiles. She has curly blond hair and is as stubborn as a mountain. She is two.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Amy has a project about learning. I want to join in, to go for the ride. Today, I learnt that part of making art is having the time to breath, drift, do nothing, drink coffee and listen to 18 year old French kids laugh, drink coke and gossip about Spanish teachers who swear. Henry Miller called this lying fallow. 'The plowing or tilling of land, without sowing it for a season; as, summer fallow, properly conducted, has ever been found a sure method of destroying weeds.' You plough the land then leave it empty, unsowed, rested. Who knows what can happen next?
I drifted in Paris, met friends, went to the 104, a contemporary arts centre in the North East of Paris. I watched plays, walked in the snow, bought a pair of dungarees that I have not worn. I nibbled on Jewish cheesecake, gulped coffee, dreamed and stamped my feet on urban land. I took photos, rang my family and bought cherry flowers in salt from an exquisite Japanese boutique.
Following Paris, I've been researching and writing, caring for sick people, eating spelt and lentils cooked with caramalized onions and topped with white feta cheese.