See? No...

You Are 24% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

For art's sake

I bought some new art when I was in Wales - a lovely watercolour of Newgale Sands by a local artist. A nice picture is my souvenir of choice when I visit somewhere I want to remember. However, now I'm running out of wall space and I've nowhere to hang my new acquisition. What to do? While I'm pondering my dilemma, let me share some of my pics with you...

Whilst sorting through some old, pre-digital photos it crossed my mind that it's a shame that all those old prints just sit in a box. I regularly see my favourite digital pictures as I have them as a screensaver on my computer. But I wanted to find a way of enjoying my photographs from before I had a digital camera. So, I found some nice (but cheap) frames and bought them in bulk. Then I put together a good cross section of pictures, from childhood holidays through to my last 35mm-film-photo-taking trip (to San Francisco in 2002) and put them up in aesthetically-pleasing groups around my flat.

On that same San Francisco trip, whilst wandering around downtown, a colleague and I happened across an art gallery. We dared ourselves to go in and look around, safe in the knowledge that everything in the place would be out of our price range, considering the window display consisted of Warhols and Liechtensteins. Real ones.

Almost immediately we were joined by a salesman. (I'm sure that in a fancy art gallery they don't have salesmen - they are probably Consultants or Executives or Directors - but he was there to sell us art...) His name was Barry and he was one of the most friendly and personable people who are trying to take large amounts of my money that I've ever met. He gave us a tour of the gallery, wowing us with Picassos (Picassoes?) and Chagalls, describing the works, giving us some history, taking down any pictures we showed even an inkling of a liking for and displaying them for us in a specially lit viewing room. When I said I'd have to remortgage my house to buy the cheapest thing I'd seen so far, he said "So what? If you love it, it's worth it!". Well, the truth was that I hadn't loved anything I'd seen. Until...

On a small wall there was a display of miniature paintings that just captivated me. "How much are these?" said I - I couldn't take my eyes off them. "You're going to be sorry you asked." said he - he'd got me! They were prints of watercolours by Fanny Brennan and they were entrancing. At first glance, they look like small landscapes. But on closer inspection you see that they're slightly surreal. I umm-ed and aah-ed and said that I would have to give it some thought. But I wanted some and I would be back. The next day I went out with another colleague to help him choose sunglasses, in return for him helping me to choose art. Just like the true friend he was to become, he talked me into it. I bought 2 of them. Barry packed them up for me and when I got them home I found he'd included a book of Brennan's work that's a work of art in itself. That's how I got me a dealer!

About a year later I bought some more. So now I'm a collector! I called Barry and he arranged for them to be framed the same as the others and shipped over. It took a while, but when they were delivered they arrived in an actual wooden crate that had to be opened with a crowbar! That was an expensive business, though. The shipping costs were reasonable, but the freight company's storage and Customs clearance fees meant that it would have been better value for me to have bought a return ticket to San Francisco and gone and got them myself. I'll know next time. Anyway, of course my collection takes pride of place in the living room. Here's four-fifths of it...


Also in my living room are some photos that I'm rather proud of,...

... an original piece by Alan Brain, a tasteful picture of irises over the fireplace, and my angel in the corner.

Oh, and as I've run out of space, some of my more recent photographic efforts have to live on the fireplace until I work out how to fit them all on the walls...

Other holiday souvenirs include the day- and night-time views of Rhossili Bay on the Gower in Wales that hang above my bed...

And some brass-rubbings that Thomas and I did at Bodiam Castle when we went to Kent this year (they can't stay propped on the radiator forever!)...

As I hate an empty wall, the bathroom's not exempt...

And neither's the kitchen...


I know what you're thinking - surely there's some space on that other wall in the hall? Nope...!

Rimmel Lasting Finish: 030 Dancing Queen

For the first time in my life ever I have painted my toenails and finger nails to match.

I have never done that before. Ever.

I just wanted to share that with someone...

When Saturday came

Today is the start of the football season. Not being a football fan myself, I'm not sure how you can tell - football never seems to go away - but I have my sources...

To mark the occasion, I spent the day sitting in the sun, reading and listening to my beloved iPod. I also managed to launder everything washable in the house that's not clothing: curtains, blankets, bedding, rugs, etc. So here I sit at the end of the day feeling relaxed and satisfied at my domestic endeavours.

I have a pale complexion, not prone to tanning. It's the same skin tone I've had all my life, so I don't know why I'm always surprised when I don't tan. I sat in the sun for a good number of hours today, and expected to come indoors glowing and healthy-looking. But, of course, the usual pale face looked back at me in the mirror when I went to check. Still, the vitamin D hit will have done me some good.

I read half a book and listened to a lot of Ben Folds (and his Five).

One thing I didn't manage to do was to buy a lottery ticket, so today will be the day that my numbers come up. I won't look, then I'll never know...

At this rate...

Of course, it's important to be morally responsible when sharing thoughts with the ether, so I've checked out my blog rating...



Check with your parents before reading. I use the word "dead" 6 times, and "gun" twice. You have been warned.

Just finished reading

A week of holiday meant a few books finished...

Poseidon's Gold

by Lindsey Davis

If you've read any of the Marcus Didius Falco books, you'll know what you're getting here. If not, and you enjoy detective fiction, give this a try. Falco is an Ancient Roman private investigator - a real twist on the standard 'whodunnit', with a lot of nice historical detail thrown in for good measure.

ooOOoo

A Dedicated Man
by Peter Robinson

If you've ever read any of the Inspector Banks novels, you'll know what you're getting here. In fact, you've probably read this one because it's one of the earliest that seemed to have passed me by. If not, this is more run-of-the-mill detective fare, but always enjoyable and never predictable.

ooOOoo


A Dying Light in Corduba
by Lindsey Davis

More Falco. This time he's in Ancient Spain investigating wrong-doings in the lucrative olive oil business.

Back in perspective

I've had a holiday. Things look so much better now. Some of the stuff's even fixed!

Here's why my holiday in beautiful Pembrokeshire made me feel better:

Breathtaking views

Rocks to stand on

Beaches to comb

Splashes to make

So, further to my extended rant below, I'm now home to a working TV, a new Capote DVD and cut back trees (I left out the whole tree saga!). I've put a new battery in the smoke detector and filled the candle-lighter with gas. I still have to think about getting my oven fixed and have to track down the right clock battery, but the bit of my cooker that does work is fine for now, and I have another clock to tell the time by, for the time being.

And, relax...