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Tomorrow Blithe Opens to the public with a Grand Opening Event from 6-9pm SLT
Here are some sneak previews from around the sim
For this challenge I asked my muse to help me out! I was born on a Sunday and isn't it so appropriate ....
"But the child who is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonnie and blithe and good and gay"
This is Lewis - who accompanied my good wife and myself to sunny Florida - getting ready for a few lengths in the pool. Oh, his two front (baby) teeth have gone and his first (big) teeth are coming through!
Our Daily Challenge ~ Monday's Child ....
Thanks to everyone who views this photo, adds a note, leaves a comment and of course BIG thanks to anyone who chooses to favourite my photo .... thanks to you all.
Avatar/Head: UTILIZATOR Kemono (Body) and M3 (Head)
Head Texture: -TSH- Keikoo M3 Head Appliers
Body Texture: .::POMF::. Pastel Goth Skin Mod
Stockings: *MUKA* Thigh Socks Patterns (@ The Big Show)
Shoes: Has Been - Blithe Peeptoe Slink HIGH (66L sale at Has Been)
Ears: ALTAIR* feline familiar white (Tinted)
Hair: .Olive. the Roo Hair (@ xiasumi school festival)
Dress: Mikunch (@ xiasumi school festival)
I had a great time doing this scavenger hunt with my mama!
Check it out! maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lost%20Angel/157/115/32
Photos from the Blithe Magazine June 2013 Sandalphon article. Read the article here: issuu.com/blitheslmagazine/docs/blithe_magazine_june_2013
Several years of visiting the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition have passed where I have marched out afterwards announcing that I’m going to enter next year. The Royal Academy count on people like me to fund the next year’s show; they display just enough total crap so that we think that we could stand a chance of exhibiting, therefore enough of us idiots blithely stump up £25 to enter a piece – “Well if I’m entering one I may as well enter two” – so, £50 for most entrants – why bet on one horse in the Grand National when you can bet on a ¼ of them!
It was right after I had sent off my £50 that I discovered that all of the ideas I had scribbled smugly in my notebook whilst wandering around the show last year no longer seemed quite as clever or witty or interesting.
Multiple evenings in pubs were merrily spent thinking up peculiar pieces of concept art, offensive art, non-existent art and hideous art done by someone else, bought at a boot fair and passed off as my own. All were dutifully scribbled into my notebook – the notebook of inertia - every thought and idea I write in there, stays in there and never gets beyond rumination. The weeks vanished with no artwork created, but many pleasant nights in the pub enjoyed.
Two weeks to go.
F**K.
Like sluggish bowels excavating after a weekend at Glastonbury, one dehydrated little pellet of an idea eventually squeezed it’s way out of my head and wouldn’t flush, so that was the one I had to go with.
Fortunately the piece lent itself very nicely to more sitting in the pub thinking of filthy terms and phrases – any piece of work that requires research using the urban dictionary is hardly work at all! – why, I subscribe!
The biggest challenge though is not to get into the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, it is to get your work into a frame.
This activity took longer than the actual creation of the art.
Ikea and Habitat must experience a sudden flurry of frame buying in March and April every year. I bought about eight frames for two pieces of work, made two and a half sweaty-backed trips up to London to stand in the store for half an hour trying to visualise my work in each frame, bought the wrong kind (bad signage Habitat), realised on the way home at Finsbury Park that I had bought the wrong ones, sweaty-headed and sweaty-backed returned to the shop to swap them - by now sweaty headed, backed and breasted.
Frames bought, I then decamped to my mother’s house (ex-framer) for help with ‘fitting up’ - sounds like some kind of drug-taking terminology.
I arrived with all the equipment, and sweaty armpits. We both tentatively attempted a bevelled mount – not a sexual position – that would have been easier.
Only those who try to hand cut a bevelled mount on a table too small can appreciate the skill and stress involved, it would make an excellent method of torture for criminals.
“Where’s the body?”
“No comment.”
“I’ll make you talk you bastard. DC Hutchinson, fetch me some card and a mount cutter. Right, I want you to cut a mount for this charming watercolour my wife did of some kittens in a basket. I want a 1.5cm gap all around the image, don’t cut the signature off and that bevel had better be perfect. Well?! What are you waiting for?! GET ON WITH IT!”
5 hours and numerous failed attempts later. . . .
“Please, no more mounts, I’ll tell you everything, the body is. . . . “
I may, in fact, submit a picture next year that is simply a perfectly cut bevelled mount, no, several mounts, stacked in decreasing sizes and quality. I shall name it ‘Ever Decreasing Perfection’
An hour or so went by with not much progress, and I started to think that this was going to drag on all afternoon – we might not even be finished by Tiffin time.
So to prevent us overrunning into the hour of the G&T I dashed to a local framers. They did a last minute mount-cutting job, wrapped it all up and I paid and gushed too gratefully. When I got home and unwrapped the mounts they looked as though the corners had been finished using a crow’s beak, a dirty and uncooperative crow’s beak at that. Some botching was done with chalk and the gentle coaxing of a pin and we deduced that the corner of a mount least noticed was the top right - that may or may not be true.
Next job, getting the image straight in the mount, this activity is like the bit in films where the cop is trying to diffuse the bomb while people around him bark instructions/threats his ears.
My mother hovered behind me wringing her hands (I couldn’t see them but I could sense them) saying, ‘No, the left margin is wider than the right.’ I emitted a prehistoric, guttural cry, we swapped roles and I then took over the hand wringing and over shoulder criticism. We alternated for some time.
Next and absolute worst bit, putting the image into the frame and closing it up - sounds simple enough?
Glass in, image in, hold up to look at. . . . . . .
Hairs, random dots, fluff, un-categorisable detritus was peppered all over the picture, the mount, the glass, everything. I opened it up partially – the more you open it the more gets in – it’s like some kind of dust black hole. Once again I was the cop trying to open up the bomb casing without setting it off . . . . I inserted a soft brush between glass and image and I tried to brush the dots away. I simply mixed them up like a tombola and deposited them elsewhere, you can’t even blow – spots of sputum are worse than dust.
I started to wonder at the nature of this detritus, tiny hairs that I have ONLY ever seen on mounts and behind glass appeared, red ones seemed to be particularly prevalent. My mother was wearing a red cashmere jumper.
“GET OUT!!!!! Get that thing off!!!” I screamed. “No! Not in here, get out and THEN take it off!”
She scurried off like a nuclear power station worker to decontaminate herself.
The process was repeated again and again: fit up, look at the front, swear, open it all up, brush more crap behind the glass, close it up, look, scream, open it up, poke about with the brush some more, replace image and glass, turn frame round, gurn. After a finite amount of times it is not that you finally get rid of all the dust, your tolerance has risen as your patience has dropped and you are now willing to accept the current constellation of particles in their respective positions. You are also no longer holding the frame up to the light and peering closely at it, rather now you are having a momentary glance at the front from across the room, through your fingers and with the curtains closed.
So my second submission for next year will be a frame with a blank white piece of paper inside and a myriad of random hairs and dust and dots and specks. I shall name it “That’ll do, I won’t get in anyway so it doesn’t matter.”
At every point of the process of preparing an entry for the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition you repeat this mantra without really believing it. When you get the rejection letter you blurt it out disingenuously again, “It’s ok I didn’t expect to get in.”
Not only do the failed entrants fund the show beforehand but they then all fork out a tenner to go and torture themselves. I imagine the majority of visitors are rejected Academicians scanning the rooms resentfully for pieces of mediocre work they consider inferior to their own. These types (and I was one on Friday night) must take with them a suitably deferential friend who will regularly blurt forth reassuring platitudes.
This must be one of the only exhibitions where people visiting act like sales reps who have just come back from the Far East with a case full of bargains. “Guess how much this one is, you’ll never guess, I’ll tell you, I bet that one is £35,000, was I close? I could get that done by a bloke I know in Beijing for £30. How much is that one? Look at the red dots on that one, let’s count, blimey he’s made five grand off that little etching of a hernia.” The act of looking up the piece in the book, checking the price, Googling the artist (if it’s in the print room and under £200 - to see if it’s worth buying) completely overshadows the enjoyment of an exhibition. I felt compelled to look up every piece and spent more time with my head in the book than actually looking at the work.
So, what was my favourite piece of work? – Page 103 of the List of Works, a beautifully laid out page.
Tomorrow Blithe Opens to the public with a Grand Opening Event from 6-9pm SLT
Here are some sneak previews from around the sim
This image of my best friends daughter took hours of manipulating to get her to pop out of the image and will be a gift for her in the new year. She is my rock and I love her! Thank god for LightRoom 2 and the AMAZING masking brushes!!!!!!
Tomorrow Blithe Opens to the public with a Grand Opening Event from 6-9pm SLT
Here are some sneak previews from around the sim
A blithe heart makes a bloomy visage / Cœur content embellit le visage
Bordeaux, Place Saint-Michel
Serie... See the world
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screenshots from the david lean/noel coward film, blithe spirit. 1945 starring rex harrison.
blogged.. bloomingleopold.com
see more on the film here.. www.imdb.com/title/tt0038363/