pow pow pow

screen shot from LIAR, set in Deal, UK, the tiny sea town i discovered just a few months ago... ☺
good old "past midnight and wide awake". i decided to climb out of bed and do something i never do at night : open my computer and write a blog post. i don't even have much to say, perhaps not even a thing. 

well shaven ;)))
night time is not a good time for me. i don't often see clear. but i feel at peace, and accept all that is around me that is far from satisfying (not wanting to use that much misused word perfect). 

my notice board in kitchen
i realise i'm not being creative much, because of the daytime job. oh, my intentions of pushing myself an hour an evening into creating, as to make up for time lost....  not happening. and as such, not working. 

cuppa with me
i manage to listen to podcasts on creativity, mainly to cut out surround noise in public spaces. i also watch a lot of series and pretend i am reading the books. you know? words or images, it's all one go nowadays. 

cookie with me ☺
and i'm not malcontent either. i frown upon times past, my need to make things, and these days the total lack of making things, and what's the difference, i ask myself. surely the art of living is being happy and content. 

one of the scenes i pass as i'm cycling down to mum's
it seems i'm letting go of beliefs and convictions and replacing them by better suited experience. maybe i'm having a break from creating. or perhaps the night makes me broody and meek. 

enjoy your weekend though. pow, pow, pow ♥

out with it

i have added a topping to my house cleaning: i am now losing half of all that i own. it is exciting to get my life back on track in a liberating fashion. house clearing is the best, right now.
i have to admit there's room for little else in my life than shedding and shredding. burning will come later. i don't even feel fanatic, i just crave for a simpler life and airier surroundings.
a work collegue introduced me properly to marie kondo, and i'll say there's been no turning back. mainly because i was and am so ready to rid my life of excess that stands in the way of moving forwards.
now that i work fulltime too, i have to be careful about priorities. i'm still adjusting so i won't be professing profound changes. what i do know already is that time is valuable and creativity is not happening.
maybe the creative side of things is mainly toting 'round my brains anyway, what with the house clearance? it's scary sometimes, you know, to be throwing out stuff i thought was going to stay with me. 
it's the most powerful tool of all : "do you like what you have ({holding in your hand}?" if not, out with it. as simple as that. but i'll also say that i needed to find myself in this exact stage, to be able to do it. 
i've been restless for too long. i've been looking high and low, and isn't it ironic to be finding the solution right under my nose? who knows what'll happen next? enjoy your week ahead! ♥

walkies with no dog

clara spilliaert, *Marbol*, Gothic fountain
hooray! we have an artistic route in our town! last time i looked (july), about a quarter of its contents was missing. today, october 6th, all of the work is mounted and here for the joyous walker to witness. 

jan van imschoot, *Cyriel 'Tarzan' Delannoit*, local famous boxing legend
what's there has the allure of a fairytale, as artists of different disciplines fill a familiar place with often whimsical, and always personal interpretations of local folklore, facts and fiction. 

voebe de gruyter, *Muur & Union Match*, reminiscing this town's matches manufacturing past
the route was curated by an out-of-towner and most participant artists come from elsewhere, some from abroad even. i actually would have liked to be a bug inside their head, ...

clara spilliaert, *Marbol*, {i really love her entries}
... as they were twisting anecdotes into, well, new anecdotes, i guess. it also leaves me a little queasy. my affection for the town i live in isn't overflowing, and to see it re-imagined by strangers is refreshing, true, 

roland jooris, *Boven* / jan van imschoot, *Cyriel 'Tarzan' Delannoit*, local famous boxing legend
and also creates a void i'm not sure can be filled with strangers' interpretations; however imaginative. or not. art is free flowing though, and of a whimsical nature. it could provoke. these works however don't.  

anyway. nice try. enjoy the weekend still and have a good week ahead. ♥

spring, er, autumn is in the air

i am spring cleaning in autumn! man, it feels good. no obligations, just really planning and do. last summer i laid down the laminate on the second floor. this winter i will be decorating both top rooms. 

i am also rearranging {and therefore uncovering the power of} my pinterest boards. i want them to work for me on a regular basis, and they still come at computer screen level, as opposed to instagram. 

i want all social media i am tending to really work for me, rather than dangle about and being useless. and i see that i'm hardly socializing at all, but sharing mainly creative endeavour. 

my creative intentions are pushed on towards 2019. i am now really trying for peace and quiet, home building and drawing for pleasure. i'm open to slow commission, but it'll probably be just ordered by me only. 

past exhibition weekends were fun. i met a whole lot of enthusiast people, confirming heritage is a part of our lives, and it's never a bad idea to stress it some, because heritage bonds people. 

i fully understand now drawing house fronts is a subject that will stick. drawing while guessing the stories behind the façades,... the fix never fails to fill me with inner repose and gratitude. 

i'll be returning to my town's ABC poster before long. we've been playing in the september #JohnVernonLord tiny drawing challenge but i'm guessing i'll give inktober2018 a miss. never mind, hat full of tricks!  

are you having good times? enjoy your sunday and a new week to come ♥

extremely long UK blogpost for the brave only

deal seafront, the royal hotel. i didn't stay there
coming back from my tiny holiday in the united kingdom i am now enjoying its aftermath, which is every inch as pleasant as its preamble. i learned a thing or two on how not to organize holidays. 

deal seafront boat yard detail
mental note : view the lodgings of choice beforehand. be sure your travel itinerary moves towards a crescendo, not away from it. sometimes you run out of luck, can't be helped. 
deal seafront, now there's my hotel in the middle
i'd decided to pay a visit to both the south east coast of kent and london. it was a bundle of pure joy that boarded the train into deal from st pancras. next i found the hotel on the seafront in a jiffy, just as i foresaw. 
canterbury park lane
funnily enough i decided to get straight back onto a train, a local into canterbury, for i had a greyish afternoon to spend. i walked about under a lead sky and thoroughly enjoyed revisiting unchanged spots.
deal high street charity shop
i climbed simmons hill on the city wall and got just a little drenched. on the railway bridge i talked to a couple of anti 'brexit-ers', who are keeping hopes up high all can still be turned back to how things were. 
evening image of my tiny room
as i slowly made my way back to the coast, and finally checked into my hotel room, my fear of being gallantly offered the broom stick cupboard (for travelling single) materialized. 
deal street messaging ☻
i faced a mirror hung up too high, the small single bed housed the sveltest springy matress i’d ever witnessed. the bed's headboard grazed the water closet wall in the adjacent communal bathroom. glory! 
deal evening stroll
a few sockets didn't work, so i prepared tea from the floor. i ran straight out into the mild evening. an invigorating stroll along the beach would do. 
deal high street charity shop
that first night's sleep was truly unpleasant. in the morning i discovered the pencil-thin matress lay upside down even, resulting in a less than comfortable touch. i whacked it over. 
hotel breakfast egg benedicte
in the breakfast room i consoled myself on a heartening egg benedicte and wandered off inland to sandwich. 
i felt it was heating up outside. the rope walk in the tiny historic town led me to its bustling centre where two bus loads of tourists had just been unleashed. i found myself a quiet spot that quickly dwindeled. i moved on. 
ramsgate seafront
i traveled to ramsgate. i have memories of the place, but i recognized not a thing nor house until i got as far as the seafront. it is a bit of a walk down to the front. 
ramsgate high street
thanet towns have a bad reputation. i should know, i lived in one in the eighties. not only felt ramsgate desolate, it was exactly that. lively enough in a sense, terrificly bleak at its fringes. 
broadstairs clock tower on w cliff promenade
i would indulge in that feeling the next day, making it into broadstairs, sunning a little before finding the courage to be on my walking way into margate along the seafront. 
up viking bay
i didn’t know how to get off the cliff so i had to plough through bourgeois wasteland and barren hay. once having cornered king’s bay, i finally had opportunity to stumble down unelegant steps onto hard beach sands.
palm beach
margate came into view, but in reality it was still a long way off. by now i was so tired i could have just stretched out flat. if it wasn’t for a handful of screaming kids i would have. 
walpole bay
i made it into turner contemporary the dishevelled way and devoured a piece of lemon cake while downing an organic lemonade at record speed. 
sandwich railway station, i haven't got one of margate
margate’s high street top end giving me the shivers just like it always does, i tumbled straight back down to the railway station and patiently awaited the arrival of my train back home. 
deal evening stroll alonf seafront
the evening was beautiful. i discovered deal's georgian old town by chance and fell in love with the evening sunlight kissing those pastel homefronts in sherbet hues, highlighting their disputed gentrified charm. 
deal shingle beach, morning image i think
i stayed long on the shingle beach afterwards, like the stones were telling me stories of old. i would have so liked to outstay my welcome, but...  
on the bus to dover
i would have to leave early the next morning to stick to my plans. that's how i discovered i should have visited london before the seaside, not afterwards. 
kenwood house hampstead heath
it wasn't the london mob nor the noise that bothered me, it was me. i bothered, and i bothered myself. i tried to make it work, and lo and behold, i made something out of it.
into the city
i had intentions. i wanted to spend time with edward bawden and enid marx, respectively in dulwich and in king's cross. both exhibitions pleased me no end. 
regent's canal
earlier on i’d {traditionally} gotten lost on the heath after visiting kenwood house. later i enjoyed strolling along regent’s canal. they were good walks after all, in varying company of strangers, dogs and bugs. 
king's cross housing developments
i didn’t manage much more besides revisiting favourite hang outs such as bookshops and regent street (don’t ask me why). king’s cross has come up in the world. it's amazing what a rejuvenated gas holder can look like. ....
bethnal green V&A, Rachel Whiteread
it's appalling though how this area is being done up for the rich and lonely. unless i would be shamelessly mistaking, but those gigantic billboards didn't leave a thing to the imagination.
this is before i left, eurostar terminal brussels
yeah. glad to come home and now to reminisce, treat my sore feet, and get all of the uk fodder seep in, through the cracks of my imagination and into illustration land. i hope. 
if you aren't done here, there's more to see here. thank you for staying with me. ☺