Tate Britain - art from 1500

I am very tired. After a late late night until the early hours of the morning with so much content that I am too emotionally exhausted to write about. And then getting up early this monring to get ready to leave for London. And then a day full of visual stimulation and some not so stimulating for me which was disappointing.

I will try to write about the visual experiences. I want to try and record as much as I can remember.....

As I stepped off the train and Waterloo and AB and I ran from platform 15 to platform 4 it all felt so familiarly London to me - the clatter of train doors, too many people to weave and dodge, the anxiety of missing the train forgetting the simplicity of just catching the next one. The smell. Stations have a smell - train smells - food stalls, lots of people smells, pee!!!
The that sort of final emergence from London station into London - station areas never seem pretty - Gar du Nord, Johannesberg (mind you at the time I was there JNB was only glorious from a long distance away), well anyway many station areas are not the most attractive - traveller zones and cheap residences (historically - now all city areas are EXPENSIVE).
So stepping out at Vauzhall and getting to Vauxhall Bridge - looking up and down the Thames, seeing London. I gasped it in. I love it! I don't want to live there anymore but I never ever lose that love of the buzzy city.  London hit my visual nerves and excited my brain and my mind was full of memories - events, fun, laughter, adventures, people - wow the people that have come and gone - experiences!!

AB an I arrived in good time and joined the gallery tour.
Sadly but of course essentially there were galleries closed for the purpose of re-hanging.
I tried to keep notes as well as experience the art - I am not sure I can be bothered to write anything out in full - so here are my notes and I will try to expand upon them .....

So we were whisked off with a dramatic flurry of petticoats ..... our tour lady made a few social faux pas - he he he. Assumptions and prejudices without meaning to. She was very nice. She was mainly intenet about telling about the story of the models for the paintings but I did learn some interesting facts and questions were raised. I am not sure I trust her accuracy on some things - she whirled us around a taster though that was enough to create an interest in me ....


Henry Tate



Neo classical building -

Neoclassicism is the name given to quite distinct movements in the decorative and visual arts, literature, theatre, music, and architecture that draw upon Western classical art and culture (usually that of Ancient Greece or Ancient Rome). These movements were dominant in northern Europe during the mid-18th to the end of the 19th century.


Hogarth promoter of artists - "Throughout his career, Hogarth served as a promoter of a national art for Britain, railing against his countrymen's often slavish devotion to the works of foreign artists and dramatists. He also worked to encourage artistic independence from the patronage system, insisting that painters could support themselves without the controlling influence of wealthy patrons if they would exhibit their work in public places and sell inexpensive prints of their paintings."


I have for a while has a copy of one of his engravings - I am no longer certain how I was introduced to it - I tend to think it was JH and in the last 9 months he has brought a lot of fascinating art and creation to my attention.

Gin Lane is the etching I have a copy of (not a hard copy and jpeg)

What I have enjoyed learning about Hogarth is the working with the everyday people of the streets which I imagine at ths time he was painting was not so fashionable or supported - I suspect that painting was maibly people of importance and commissioned portraits. Which of course realtes to the information above:

Self portrait. Painting of a painting stood on 3 books. William Shakespeare, Jonathan Swift and John Milton’s Paradise Lost, respectively
Serpentine line important in art theory of this line?? - ah my note - actually its the line of beauty. I have no idea where I got the idea it was the serpentine line?????  Oh now I have found out that yes it is called the serpentine line or s line in art. I did hear right! I always doubt myself so.
Hogarth's theory "According to this theory, S-Shaped curved lines signify liveliness and activity and excite the attention of the viewer as contrasted with straight lines, parallel lines, or right-angled intersecting lines which signify stasis, death, or inanimate objects"

Now hung next to Hogarth (and there were so many of the older paintings all crammed in together - is this because of the work being done int he gallery? I assume so as there were some that were so high it was not practival to even try looking at them

Joseph Highmore
Mr Oldham and his guests

Conversation close up
Painted self into = I made this note to msyelf (like Hitchcock he he he - like cameo roles and Tarantino who actually takes on parts within his own work - not unique at all it's being going forever) Is anythign really unique now?




Starts of still life? This note is in realtion to the tour guide commenting on the bowl and the bottle of wine.
So having read a little more about this I realise that still life was also there forever. Bit a point made is that often still life in earlier art contained religious connotations or meaningful symbols.
Apparently amongst earlier artists breaking free of the religious element was Leonardo Da Vinci and Jan van Eyck.
Gosh I could read and study forever. I love all the history and lilnking with social situations of the time and influences on changes - and humans evolving being shown through some peoples creativity. After all it is creation itself.


I will continue later as I really need to do some psychology reading for my course - more to do of everything ........

Bliss
X

Heartstreams, Onsite

http://www.onsiteworkshops.com/


http://www.heartstreamjourneys.com/practice.htm


http://www.clearpathjourneys.co.uk/index.php

A people fly by

John's Bummel

DC Browning said
A 'Bummel'," I explained, "I should describe as a journey, long or short, without an end; the only thing regulating it being the necessity of getting back within a given time to the point from which one started. Sometimes it is through busy streets, and sometimes through the fields and lanes; sometimes we can be spared for a few hours, and sometimes for a few days. But long or short, but here or there, our thoughts are ever on the running of the sand. We nod and smile to many as we pass; with some we stop and talk awhile; and with a few we walk a little way. We have been much interested, and often a little tired. But on the whole we have had a pleasant time, and are sorry when it's over."

Ha and life can sometimes be a bummer - a journey with no end and an unknown time limit and a whole host of experiences.


Well here is my friend John - no secret about who he is -
http://www.youtube.com/user/bushytrips?feature=mhum#p/a/u/0/EMA_8ifeT3s

"If anyone asks, you can tell them this: the youtube bushytrips channel is a video diary that got out of hand, an idiosyncratic journey - a bummel, no less - of a well-meaning clot (me, that is) who stumbles and ambles along, backpacking his way through parts of South-East Asia and sharing the experience with the curious and the kind. You, that is...

Bliss
X

An exit visa from SHAME

Bliss, there's always, and only, one sure way to bridge the gap, heal the wound, mend the fence, and otherwise reach those who seem unreachable.
Thought.
Send them your finest,
The Universe
 
This seemed to resonate strongly. The sentiment for me is forgiveness, letting go, reaching out, allowing past to be the past. And the strong link is with my dad following last Saturdays miracle time with him.
It has never entered into my busy thoughts, the thinking that flashes and pulses with such alarming regularity that the time between thoughts is undetectable in the human world.  So many thoughts but not one ever flitting by the idea that my dad might actually take responsibility for something that has haunted me and now I have learnt haunted him too.
I am repeating myself I know.
I have fear though. I want to bridge the gap - and by that I am thinking (there we go again - and believe me a million other thoughts preceded it since the one before and that last one) yes bridging the gap means that I should be in regular contact and calling and visiting and being close - my fantasy is that we are all chatty and friendly and loving. At the same time I feel sick at the thought because then the dad that has been the angry and abusive dad comes back into mind. That person is more present than the funny, fleetingly caring sharing dad I met on Saturday. That version of him is so unfamiliar really. I remember a few times when that dad has been there. That is the dad that I love, even adore. The dad that I want to love me is the angry dad. Ironic huh?
Now actually I have been bridging the gap but not in my fantastical way. It's been in an even more miraculous way. Over the past years I have taken responsibility for myself more. I have not been dependant on being bailed out or hauled out of trouble. I have set boundaries and gradually I have fund my voice to tell my angry dad that certain things are not OK. I have allowed adult me to keep child me from harm and met angry dad as an adult. I have altered my behaviours so much over the last years - starting with getting into recovery from mess and chaos and addiction. No more crazy men, no more drinking escapades with buckets of shame, no more irresponsible debting, no more running.
Yes a lot of changes. All contributing to this encounter which links with the words from the Universe - and I think I do continue to reach out for the unreachable. People say stop knocking on the door where I will be rejected yet again. Well I have stopped knocking but I have not stopped praying for his happiness or for his relief from the burden of himself as that's in my opinion what I see. And I have been reaching out in my way, agreeing to meet, receiving calls, asking for some advice - that sort of little thing. Even when it's been painful tot he point of cutting myself, I have continued to reach out in a way other than directly.
I know my dad has continues to reach out too. Although there is a tightening in my throat and a feeling of sickness and my skin cringes as if something is wandering over my body, slowly, randomly. It give me the judders, this feeling. Something crawling over my skin, leerily.
Let it go, let it go.
So you see as you read this that there are so many mixed feelings. It is all too strange at this time. I want to see SC but have fear of contacting him. Afraid that he will reject me and I would find that very hard to deal with at this time. And as I have no spare cash I only want to see him a couple of times and maybe he won't accept that. The thing is I am too cowardly to call so have all these imaginary conversations - the only way to find out the truth is to call.
I can deal with the reality - difficult or positive.
 
JH is travelling and sent a Whatsapp to say he will not have access to any Internet.
It's odd. I was OK about this until the thinking started. I miss him. I miss access to the man I love. I find it all so strange the contact we have - there seems to be less sort of words of love from him. And I read into this that he really is drawing away little by little. And then I think well we are not a couple even though it is all so confused and blurred boundaries between us - well that's how it seems to me. But I am not sure how to address him. I want to and sometimes do tell him I love him. Then I get afraid of the rejection as he is drawing away and don't say anything close or affectionate - I want to be in his arms and feel his warmth and skin. But this is confusing as we are not officially lovers anymore.
I want him and miss him but am not entitled to that somehow. So the way we greet each other and the way we talk is with this sort of staccato affection.
So then of course the thinking - yes the thinking.  First of all I was really delighted that JH told me that he would not be able to access Internet. How thoughtful of him to let me know. Then I thought .... stinking thinking ..... he is telling me he wants a break from me. Freedom to just enjoy his holiday without me hassling and hounding him. Then I thought OH GOD! He is meeting a woman. Then I thought -stop this thinking it's just destructive. Then I thought look you are choosing to stay in contact so if you are then you have to put some trust in the man. If you really think he is out to cause any pain on purpose then you really need to get out!!! Then I thought - look he is being himself and you are not lovers by your choice so get on and be friends, access the things that you love and adore and enjoy and the rest will become apparent. Then I thought I can do this. Then I thought what is all this stuff. I am me and I am OK with or without JH I am OK. I don;t need him to be alive but I do like him in my life. Then I thought but he musn't know this or he will think he has won me over and ....Then I thought SHUT UP!!!!!! Let JH enjoy his holiday. He is there doing what he is wanting to do. I am here a long way away and getting on with my day to day. We are both OK.
If he loves me he will be there for me when he can. If he doesn't - well it will reveal itself.
Let Go! And Live and Let Live. I can love him and be really comfortable with that. If he wants and values that love that's available to him he can honour that. And I can learn to see how he loves me.
Phew
 
Then I thought - oh yes it's really is this endless - Oh no let me start the next little story of today .....
I picked up LL from AB's. AB and I sat down to a cup of coffee as we very often, actually more than that, as we usually do.
I am not sure what triggered it but we ended up speaking about pretty much the last year or just over before I ended up in R'ton P. It was a detailed account, very detailed of this time. And then we went on and talked about afterwards to right up to 25 Sep 2001.
My gosh what a story. I am not sure I have ever spoken in quite such explicit detail. Very specific stories and dates touching the feelings with different events and my shame now (although diminished shame than goodness).
This recounting started with the meeting of MS at the Cumberland Hotel. How I decided to go to the big travel event being held there. I cannot recall by whom or for what reason. But I can remember making sure I went for the potential of being out and drinking. I got entangled with J - renowned for her drinking problem and someone I encountered on occasions through my career with HRT in London. The first time being when I started seeing DM. Ew yuch I am not going to repeat the entire story here again. But it was dark and brings out a very creepy feeling. Any time I drive through Pimlico I get this eerie sense about the atmosphere. It truly is like a darkness descends over me. It was amidst the beginnings of the sharp decline towards a very real suicide attempt. Not the reason and there was still another maybe 9 10 months before that utter despair and final decision to kill myself.
I spoke about taking the pills almost in disbelief that I was doing it. Taking them in handfuls and washing them down with wine. It was like I was observing myself. Not really believing that I was doing it, terrified of what would happen but compelled to do it anyway. Crying, distraught. The ambulance, the police, the haze of memories, the delirium, my poor parents, the P!
Debts so big I didn't know what to do. Ongoing crazy partying, moments of such utter despair and hiding, shame and self hatred, confusion, obliteration.
I talked about some of the men and my self disgust at my behaviour and choices. When drugs started and how the slope downwards suddenly became a sheer drop. Rape! Madness without realising it. Rage! Worlds I had only previously imagined and yet a dark sardonic intrigue to experience these. RP, DL, S, oh gosh. ON and on we talked. Surprising situations.
As the story unfolded to it's end this evening I felt such an array of emotions.
As I drove away I felt odd. I could feel a rapidly pulsating energy from my centre. It was high energy. And I had a mic of positive charge and negative charge running amock around in me. I have no idea how to label the feelings and emotions. It was just huge.
I immediately NEEDED JH. I wanted to be able to call him and talk. I ...... about what I don't know.
I started to observe and thereby calm slightly knowing that I didn't - I just needed to ground. I managed to call T. I talked through this feeling and she related.
She spoke about having made a presentation earlier today and the buzzy feeling afterwards. She had grounded by taking a walk but was relieved to talk to me to really share it. That is exactly what I needed to do - share it. The need from JH was approval - I wanted t feel OK having spoken abut so much horror.
And the disbelief that this is what I - yes ME had done and been. Never in a million years would I imagine I would have received a disciplinary at work. Miss loyal, miss dedicated, miss never do a thing wrong.
Yet there I was getting into very serious trouble with my company - on two very big issues. And then I committed fraud and got involved in holding a licence for an illegal underground nightclub and drugging heavily and and and and and and and AND FLIPPING AND.
Endless stories.
AB says I should write my story - there are so many stories I never know where to begin. I should  perhaps record everything as I remember it.
Then one day it's there to perhaps be written - fictionalised truth that no one would believe I think.Or the way back from ruin as a self help book.
Or just let it rot with my dead body when I am gone. It was rotten after all.
 
I think I was feeling all that rot afterwards. It was very very strange sort of looking at the pictures as I recounted the reality as I remembered and then remembered a bit more - and trying to think where that bit slotted in on the timeline. FUCKING HELL - a very strange after sensation.
 
So now I could talk to JH without it being neediness :) but hey he's busy holidaying and I love to think of him enjoying the world he seems to love to explore. Just being JH.
I love him. He says he knows. I would hope that we could be together. Who knows? Universe?
 
Uhm - I also want to add that I am so JH's that I have no interest in any other man at all. It's easy to talk to men but I so utterly his that it is natural to be entirely relaxed and boundaried. I am not available to anyone else. I find this strange as he and I are not lovers anymore. Yet I feel his. Again I think if I allow him to know this he will take advantage of me - yet I know this thinking is from a deeper lack of trust, The fragile, hurt child and this is too much for JH to hold and nurture as he has too much of his own healing to do. I do not want him to parent my child that is not the same thing.
I have just realised that what he has encountered is a little frightened girl who also presents a grown woman, a teenager and of course a humble me just trying to get along in this confusing world.
Perhaps no one can hold all of this along with me. I try to do it but I need some help. Perhaps I have been needing to get the help from my friends rather than hope JH can help hold me.
 
I am just musing ideas. I don't know answers. I will call SC tomorrow.
 
Off to watch the end of the film The Girl Who Played with Fire - good so far.
 
Good night
Bliss
X
 
ps a bit chilly - going to watch it all snuggled in bed with Val Doonican

pps - a last minute thought - Oh God! What if he doesn't want contact because of another woman? He would surely tell me now. How can I stop this sort of thinking.
And he said he knows he can be boundaried - I wonder what his boundaries are?
I hope JH will forgive me for my thinking. I want to trust.
I have faith in the Universe - and the Universe is sure to help me heal and grow. It shows me daily how I have changed and grown and how I have love running through me.

PURITY COMPASSION FAITH BLISS WISDOM
 

Mab Jones

Welsh Wool
Oh the fellas they like a girl with long hair
They love to run the hands through it
But their tastes change when it comes to down there
That hair's not nice when they chew on it

Some girls are fuzzy, some girls are furry
Some girls are like a rainforest
Some hair is straight but mostly its curly
And Welsh girls have got a lot of it

Maybe its coz, just like the sheep
We need our wool to keep warm in
Maybe its coz with our valleys so deep
We need bush in case the rain's pouring

I don't know why, we've just got a lot
Welsh girls look bad in a thing
Unless they take off the hair that they've got
It really depends where they're from

I mean, valleys girls just love their curls
Their hair grows wild and flaxen
But city girls don't hide their pearls
They prefers' a waxin'

In Swansea they shave it.
In Tenby they save it
In Cardiff they take it all off
In Merthyr they shape it,
In Rhondda they drape it
Down either side of their crotch

In Rhyl they prefer a tiny moustache
In Aber a beard's the in thing
In Cwmer they pluck it but are prone to a rash
In Newport they add lots of bling

In mystical Pembroke the shape every folicle
Into a glyph that is highly symbolical
In Milford Haven the girls prefer shavin'
They leave just a few hairs there gently wavin'

Up in Caernarfon any male visitor
Will find the girls smooth and a hairy perimeter
In Flint it's the fashion to blow-dry it straight
In Gwent they tie beads in to make it ornate

There is a style to suit every passion
From silk smooth to long pony tail
Just near in mind that whatever the fashion
You're welcome, and will come, in Wales.
(Mab Jones)



http://mabjones.webs.com/aboutme.htm

A good evening - nice company
ML and her friend N
CS and her friend C

Some great poetry but a number of writers and some that I didn't really get.
Glad I made the effort. ML reckons she will read some of her own next time.

And so to bed .... working tomorrow PD will have his operation tomorrow.
Universe take care of him.

and please send a kiss to JH so that he can feel me

Bliss
X

A love poem on a poetry evening

The Moment Before

I want to touch
the sharp taste
of the moment in between
the second just before
the place where the breath catches
in anticipation.
It's the scent of heat held in the air
Between two mouths
reaching for each other, hungry.
The shine of moisture on slightly parted lips
just before
it melts into
the wetness of the other.


It is the skin that tingles
waiting
fine hairs at attention
reaching
aching.

It is the places that have not yet been touched
but know they will be.

It is the smooth, quivering paleness
of the inner thigh
as the outer is stroked and kneaded.
The muscles of the abdomen tightening
the back arching slightly
begging
come here
quickly
slowly.

There, in that moment
do not take your eyes from mine.
I am here
awake
I am reaching
to be met.

Do not touch me and keep your soul
out of your fingertips.
Die into me
or do not come into me at all.
Ever after is in this moment
happily or not.

Sacrifice the daydream.
Dare to hold the desire
for a great love.
Be with me.

JH sent me this poem once.
I love it. I sense it. I know it I have glowed in those moments just before, giving in, giving all of me.
 
What I say in return is ........................ 
 
The moment just after
 
to die into that very moment
whatever the future might hold.
Happily or not ever after
And whilst I know to trust that the future
is not actually in my own hands or anyone else's,
there is surely more for the future,
some sort of commitment
more than just this moment.
Something to work with 
build upon.
Not just one single moment
of anticipation,
solitary fulfillment
and move on.
Can it not be about more moments
more just befores
making each one as unique as the last.
Complacency kills so quickly
familiarity.
Could we creativily be momentary?
Adventure, excitement,
together
in love
Love me.
 
Bliss
X
 
 
I don't know where JH found the poem. It is sexy and sensual and creates in me that very feeling it describes.
I long for that moment just before. Can we hold on to it?
I do not have it to give to anyone else.
 
Bliss
X