On a level

I’ve just been invited to enter some work into a group exhibition in Oxford in April 2015 on the theme of sea… Which I’m very excited about.

Desperately grasping at straws I’ve been attributing a lot of behaviour to the moon recently (and part jokingly, though I do believe there’s something in it – lunatic!). Which has brought my focus back round to thoughts about ocean currents – contributing factors resulting in activity taking place above and below a surface and their effects on that surface… Existing on a level.

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See also The Natural Course of Things.

Touch Me

One of the most beautiful things I’ve encountered becoming a mum is the little ear imprint that my beautiful baby leaves on my arm when she falls asleep on me.

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I don’t think I’m alone when I say that (non-sexual) physical contact has dwindled with age. From being a baby when you’re as good as physically attached to your parents (literally attached to your mother in the womb), to a cuddly infant, to a teenager looking for a different type of physical contact, to a young adult with virtually no physical contact, to a parent re-learning the wonder of physical contact… And it is wonderful, and it is precious, and it is a basic human need (possibly a basic need full stop – Coatimundi demands attention), that is so frequently neglected.

As I feed my baby, her skin against mine, she relaxes and my heart swells as I cradle her and her body grows heavy and limp as she falls asleep on me and I feel mutual trust, love and understanding right there. When I pick my baby up and her face fills with glee as I pull her close to kiss her, when she wakes up alone and is upset until I pick her up and hold her close to me where she feels safe and secure I’m reminded of the physical foundations of love and trust.

Touch / contact is so very important. As well as leaving an imprint on my arm, that little ear leaves an imprint on my heart too, an imprint that deepens with every sleepy cuddle.

I’m not suggesting that we all become physical pests, but that we remember that there are probably more times and places to hold a hand, to put your arm round someone, to squeeze a knee, to stroke hair, to invite a loved one to rest their head on your lap, or to give a kiss than you think, and doing so will undoubtedly strengthen those foundations.

To quote Jim Morrison, “Come on, come on, come on, come on now touch me baby…”

Genesis 2:22

Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.

  • the-good-wifes-guide-1He’s the king of the castle.
  • Just ignore me.
  • After you, Dear.
  • Whatever makes you happy.
  • Is there anything else I can do?
  • Have a good day.
  • Behind every good man…
  • Don’t worry, Darling, I can manage.
  • Of course, Darling. Do what you need to do.
  • I’m sorry, you must have had a hard day.
  • It’s not about you, it’s me.
  • Never mind you, what about me?
  • Baby in a snow-globe with bank notes floating instead of snow
  • Inflatable toy ball with a toy inside it, melted onto that toy is a mother’s degree photo and on top of that the suffocating plastic cover of The Red Book
  • Inglorious vices – a series of tall thin 6foot high, precarious pedestals, perched on them a bottle of wine, a bottle of gin, a packet of cigarettes, some soft rinded cheese, some blue cheese, coffee

Angels of Tacloban

The contents of the wonderful Love Your Plane furniture shop and workshop on Oxford’s Iffley Road are great. Great furniture, really well designed, super cool patterns… Great cards, cushions, flower bombs, sketch books, note pads, prints, books, the list of greatness at great prices goes on, AND the guy that owns and runs the place is great too! All kinds of great… Including the great little gallery space, The Bus Stop Gallery, that he has out back.

Coinciding with Photography Oxford festival, The Bus Stop Gallery have adorned their walls with some fantastic photojournalism presented in a very liveablewithable way. Liveablewithable is a funny word to use in this context (not least because the word doesn’t exist), but because the subject of the show by Oxford-based photographer and psychiatrist Nick Rose, entitled Angels of Tacloban, is that of ‘getting by and getting on’ in the aftermath of typhoon Haiyan, which hit the coastal town of Tacloban in November 2013.

It’s not a massive show, but a hard-hitting show… and I actually found really uplifting and inspirational. The images depict ordinary people finding a way through tough times. I particularly liked one image of a family sitting at the ‘foot’ of a massive ship that had by washed ashore. The owner of the gallery remarked how the scratched on the ship reminded him of the scars on a beached whale’s belly. I also especially enjoyed the images of girls in hot pink dresses having a dancing lesson underneath the roof of a sports hall that has been partially ripped to shreds by this aggressive cyclone that swept through it.

The images are beautifully shot by a man who can clearly communicate with others, both his ‘sitters’ and his viewers. Rose has captured so much understated strength and spirit in the face of adversity in these stunning images.

Adding integrity in integrity, all proceeds from the sale of works in this show (each piece is priced at £85) goes to the International Medical Corps.

Angels of Tacloban at The Bus Stop Gallery in Love Your Plane continues until 8 October 2014.

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And the beat goes on…

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