Six-Month Lockdown Commences Tomorrow... Among Other Things

Win's friend Jean took me to Blenheim to see the National Exhibition yesterday, but I'm not sure which I enjoyed more, the exhibition or our conversation. The exhibition itself was a little cramped and I had to concentrate to really see as many pieces as I could, but there were a lot of nice pieces. I'm also disappointed the gallery (their staff hung the exhibition) did not take advantage of the height; because I expected it, as I walked into the space it looked to me as if all the work settled towards the bottom of the gallery and I needed a little time to adjust my perspective. Though if you didn't know how high the ceiling is in this gallery, you may not have a problem. Here are some views, (photographs allowed here!):

(The red scarf on the plinth is Dianne's!" 

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I've had Foot-in-Mouth Disease for a while and am finding social situations difficult. On Sunday at a neighborhood do, I kept saying the stupidest things without thinking, just to fill in the space; I came home exhausted and wanting to crawl in a hole.  During lunch at Win's yesterday, I suddenly started talking about my weight! (WTF!!) and try as I did to shut up, I was on autodrive. And I ate too much; Win is a lovely cook and I eat too much every time she feeds me.

I don't know what's happening, but for now I'm choosing to think it's not my head. Anyway, I'm looking forward to very little social situations in the foreseeable future. (Read on.)

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Today was the last day of this term of our drawing class. I'm not going the next two terms, (read on), and possibly the last term, (this, depending on my parents' health when the Northern autumn/winter approach.) But I have mini projects in mind to keep me drawing, albeit less regularly.

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Six months from today we will hang our Beginnings exhibition. I've been obsessed about what I'm going to make since I spoke with Pat two weeks ago, but have now progressed to the stage where I need to concentrate, so I'm going into a six-month lockdown.  I love lockdown before exhibitions and always look forward to them; this is a little longer than usual, but I'm thinking big, and I'll need the time towards the end for possibly several weeks of mindless weaving. I'm almost giddy thinking about the next six months.

I'll post about my progress separately after I discuss blog posts with Group R on Monday; I'm sure it'll be fine for me to talk about what I'm making, but I read somewhere it's best never to assume things when working with a group.

EDIT: Pre-exhibition lockdown often means I'm potentially even more "vocal" here. You have been warned. 

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This afternoon I saw a film called "In Search of Haydn"; if you are a fan of classical music of that era, or play an instrument, you might want to see it. In it was one pianist, Marc-André Hamelin, who had a very physical way of expressing what he thought about Papa. I can't imagine how I could describe it, and it was a very short clip in a not-very-long documentary, but his hands and upper body changed shapes as he spoke about parts of Papa's piano concerto; I was absolutely taken by the, ahem, symphony of his words, physical expression, energy and emotion. It also reminded me of how I melted with Pekka Kuusisto's physical performance in the Australian documentary "4". (I had a link to the video on YouTube back then but this will do.)

Last year when I was home there was an incident where Mom and I were talking about textiles late at night, and I, as per usual, got animated, which in tern alarmed Mom and she suddenly and sternly told me to settle down. And that was the end of the conversation; she wasn't going to have be behave "like that". I felt like shouting, "Have you been listening to any of it?"

I never understood why she became so upset, and dismissive, as I was no livelier than I usually am when I talk about work. I felt sorry she didn't share the same passion; probably more sorry for myself than for her. I love musicians who get involved with their instruments and their work, as if their instruments become part of their body; I feel the same when I catch staring down at the cloth I've just woven while sitting at my loom.

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I received yet another exotic (for me) paper yarn from Sandy. Life's starting to get more complicated with the arrival of these, I tell you. Thank you, Sandy!

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April Spools Day this weekend!

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Forgot to give you a wee present. Have a look at this!