...If you never know truth,
then you never know love.
And also, the British charts.
Just when you think that the charts are only about 14 year old music buying choices, number one and number two come in, quite delightfully, as this...
Sunday, December 21, 2003
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
When the Secret Santa people thought up the idea of Secret Santa I expect they envisaged the good feeling of being able to make participating webloggers feel ridiculously chuffed to receive an unasked for gift. But I bet they didn't ever think that somewhere there would be one particular weblogger who, when she received her gift, was so happy that she actually danced around her kitchen and wore the smile of a cheshire cat for the rest of the day.
You see it's not simply that I like receiving presents, which I do of course, especially when (rattles gift expectantly) it's a book, because you know already how I feel about books. No the thing that made me gloriously happy was what my particular Secret Santa wrote on the very little and normally unassuming gift tag.
Because my Secret Santa wrote this:
A Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa! Your weblog is a joy to read. I really like your writing style.
Mine! My writing style! My Secret Santa, who has never met me and who knew nothing about me read my blog to see what kind of person I was before buying me a present, and liked it so much they decided to write that on the tag.
It's truly my best Christmas present. I feel so inspired now. I feel inspired to transcribe the book (which I once laboured over a typewriter to write) onto my computer and make it better. I feel inspired to keep writing things, just for the sake of writing, keeping my hand in. And most of all I feel good, which is a lovely, new feeling.
Begone self doubt!
Secret Santa; Thank you. From the very bottom of my happy, brimming-with-confidence tingling toes!
You see it's not simply that I like receiving presents, which I do of course, especially when (rattles gift expectantly) it's a book, because you know already how I feel about books. No the thing that made me gloriously happy was what my particular Secret Santa wrote on the very little and normally unassuming gift tag.
Because my Secret Santa wrote this:
A Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa! Your weblog is a joy to read. I really like your writing style.
Mine! My writing style! My Secret Santa, who has never met me and who knew nothing about me read my blog to see what kind of person I was before buying me a present, and liked it so much they decided to write that on the tag.
It's truly my best Christmas present. I feel so inspired now. I feel inspired to transcribe the book (which I once laboured over a typewriter to write) onto my computer and make it better. I feel inspired to keep writing things, just for the sake of writing, keeping my hand in. And most of all I feel good, which is a lovely, new feeling.
Begone self doubt!
Secret Santa; Thank you. From the very bottom of my happy, brimming-with-confidence tingling toes!
Friday, December 12, 2003
Join the Cult of David Shrigley.
David Shrigley 2003
The suggested idea is that we replicate David Shrigley's little signs and notices, which he calls 'interventions' and place them all over London, thereby creating a sort of 'cancerous' cult artwork.
The 'Ignore this building' one would be a particularly easy starting point, owing to the large amount of fascinating buildings in London.
David Shrigley 2003
The suggested idea is that we replicate David Shrigley's little signs and notices, which he calls 'interventions' and place them all over London, thereby creating a sort of 'cancerous' cult artwork.
The 'Ignore this building' one would be a particularly easy starting point, owing to the large amount of fascinating buildings in London.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
One day everything is normal and the next everything goes topsy turvy again. And it makes you think: What is normal? Is this normal? Was that? And really, do I want normal anyway?
Hey.
Normal today?
Normal today was making my son's Christmas card with him, ready to take to school tomorrow. I get things done you see. Alright I leave it until the last minute (he breaks up on Friday) but I like to think it makes life that little bit more interesting.
So. It's slow going writing 30 cards when you are not yet six but he managed it, and his picture was wonderful even if, as a doting mother, I do say so myself.
Then I began the task of Lino cutting for adult Christmas card sendage, and owing to my inability to manoeuvre my right hand successfully, I now have nine holes gouged out of that particular hand which are very sore and consequently make it slightly difficult to type.
Hey but it's the pain that makes us. Right?
Hey.
Normal today?
Normal today was making my son's Christmas card with him, ready to take to school tomorrow. I get things done you see. Alright I leave it until the last minute (he breaks up on Friday) but I like to think it makes life that little bit more interesting.
So. It's slow going writing 30 cards when you are not yet six but he managed it, and his picture was wonderful even if, as a doting mother, I do say so myself.
Then I began the task of Lino cutting for adult Christmas card sendage, and owing to my inability to manoeuvre my right hand successfully, I now have nine holes gouged out of that particular hand which are very sore and consequently make it slightly difficult to type.
Hey but it's the pain that makes us. Right?
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