it's raining it's pouring the old man is snoring

*Achoo... I hab a cold. Stupid snot and sniffles, sinuses and shivers, kleenex and lemsips, I'm under the weather and the weather's not good. Everyone in the house has been sick the past week and now I've got it too. Poo.
Today I'm on the couch watching an obscene amount of the Gilmore Girls, but yesterday it was only sneaking up on me in my ears and nose so we went to town as it was Aisling's birthday and the postman had brought her lots of cards bearing lots of money. On our way out we played a game of 'I'm a blogger y'all and this is what I wore today' photography, minus the I-take-this-too-seriously-but-am-trying-to-pretend-like-I-don't, intentionally-over-pigeon-toed poses. And came home with purchases amounting to a grand total of two pairs of earrings. The last of the big spenders.

hipster dinasours

images from forkparty.com

elle s'appelle Sophie van der Perr

images sophievanderperr.com

charades day

Perhaps I'm a miserable old scrooge but christmas day in my house feels like a painfully drawn out game of charades. Oh we must all do this x now because it it dictated to us be the norms of yuletide, now let us all be bored out of our bonkers doing this other y pretending to enjoy it whilst wishing to be anywhere else doing anything else. Bah humbug I won't bore you with my family fuck ups / I'd rather try and forget about them rather than waste more breath on ranting / lets talk a little fashion...
I dressed myself this morning in a loose fitting dress over which I wore a loose fitting jumper. Remember that Thanksgiving episode of Friends where Joey wears Phoebe's pregnancy pants in order to attempt eating an entire turkey? Well that's me.
See? Fantastically flippity flappity shapeless side profile : ) Well, my lovely loose jumper was bought in H&M in Edinburgh when I was over there a fortnight ago all because of the elbows
Look! Suede patches! Aren't they lovely? Indeed, Scott Schuman certainly seems to think so images from The Sartorialist

a double post

Last week we had TWO stitch and bitch gatherings... I know, we're totally wild! Our second was a special festive session and we'd all collected lots of toilet rolls during the week to make crackers. But then instead Elspeth made a mini toilet roll nativity set, with a mini Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes.
And wishing to have a nicely informed vocabulary, I asked what exactly are swaddling clothes? Well, we asked the dictionary the same and found that the verb 'to swaddle' means 'to wrap (a baby) in swaddling clothes'. Does somebody actually get paid to write these things? I am obvious. Give me money. Actually they are long strips of cloth wrapped around a newborn baby. So in an improvised arts and crafts nativity you could wrap long strips of cloth (toilet paper) around a new born baby (cardboard toilet roll) et voila you have a baby jesus (roll of toilet paper). Square one.
Ellen baked gingerbread for the tree, personalising one for each of us. Ruth got a Japanese conceptual artist gingerbaby and I got a hipster gingerboy. Here he is looking dapper with his cool fringe, crop top and trendy ankle boots... yum yum

Now we have post part two: what I did today, Christmas Eve. I became one of those plebian panickers running around town doing last minute power-shopping. I'd put off facing the crowds for so long that I failed to beat them and just had to bite the bullet and join them. But called Jack first to see if he might be around for eveningtime drinks somewhere, you know, something along the lines of cosy hot ports in an old man's pub. Instead, I had an early afternoon mcdonalds and then with a still-drunk-from-last-night sidekick, a much more fun trip to penneys than ever would have imagined possible.
This is my terrible drawing of his terrible state of being. I think I captured the misery and the gorging on greasy grub quite nicely, non? Ha ha quote unquote "I feel like it's 3am in the kebab house, that's how drunk I am right now".
And now we're back from mass I'm missing a seafood and whiskey party, instead putting in the obliged family time. Knitting and blogging because what do we have to watch on the television? The Late Late Show. I'm starting my own solo whiskey party right here right now. Wake me up on Boxing Day.

the god honest truth

Somebody told me last night they find my blog refreshingly honest, which, apparently, is rare these days. This made me really happy for a number of reasons, one being that it's a nice surprise to find out people I know are actually interested enough to bother reading it, or that one of my friends misses me and wants to know what I'm at.
Anyway I'd like to say thanks to those of you reading this. And so while we are here talking about followers and honesty I want to put a query out there to someone in South Korea... Dearest unknown Seoul-based taletrails aficionado, Thank you for your ongoing support of daily hits in the blogging realm but I find it rather strange that you stay for mere seconds at a time but do so many times a day. It throws me and my analytics and so, no offence, but it would be greatly appreciated if you would normalise your viewing. Please and thank you.

And extra post script: I didn't realise until I was talking about it with my sister today that some people don't know this, but profile views are not the same as blog views so when you click on my picture and see a number, this is how many times my profile has been viewed and not my blog. (Profile being photo and general info) (and blog being blog. duh. only I can see how much my blog is being viewed)

falalalala

Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat, please put a penny in the old man's hat. If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do, and if you haven't got a ha'penny then God bless you.

The spirit of festive cheer is just starting to seep it's way into my days. We put the tree up and I have all the rooms downstairs stinking of oranges and cloves. But have I really realised there's only five days left? Nope because I haven't done a scrap of shopping and haven't even thought of what I might get for people ah *panic *panic... I'm in such a pickle though because I hate town when it's busy, the masses of people simply make me too angry, but how am I supposed to buy anything if I can't bring myself to face the shops? Perhaps I'll go for the good old home-made presents again this year. Because we all know it's the thought that counts. Right? Yeah....

So what then have I been doing that isn't shopping for gifts? Why baking biscuits for the tree of course! And dressing myself like I dress the tree. Hee hee I love this cat... Christmas tree decoration plus safety pin equals awesome brooch!

le art

My project started with a ballet shoe and I'll skip the life story but it's taking a turn toward questioning identity. And in another sub idea deviating from social norms. Anyway say, how a dancer in the corps de ballet puts everything into dancing but only to look the exact same as everybody else in the corps, and so blah blah what I did here was build a little 'stage' with mirrors on it. Then I photocopied a barbie doll and made four identical puppets with candles on sticks. And cut out four snowflakes. Because no two snowflakes are the same. So for example even if a dancer is dancing in The Nutcracker where she is dancing as an identical corps snowflake, she is actually an individual person. See?

what a load of

This is my new favourite thing. My current answer of choice for the 'what are you must-haves for this season' and 'what can you not leave the house without' type questions I might be asked; I have my answers prepped for when the press begins to hound me... It used to be a keyring and I looped it through a chain so now it's a necklace. The prettiest darn necklace you've ever seen which compliments everything I wear. Because I'm a fashion genius. Yep, you heard it here first- keyring necklaces are the next big thing they're going to be bigger than hareem pants, even bigger than capes. Wow I'm such a trend setter. And I'm only getting started, you should have seen how excited I got decorating the Christmas tree - it was one for the tree, one pinned on me, one for the tree, one pinned on men. Tavi Gevinson watch out.

when the party keeps on going

Honey I'm home

PHew I'm back from Scotland! Snow : Zero, Zara : One.
In a three day defeat of the weather I managed to get there and back all in one piece, encountering only a lifetime's worth of delays and cancellations of public transport services along the way. And all the sitting around and waiting with crossed fingers actually wasn't so bad because I had some Roald Dahl short stories to read and also Love in the time of Cholera, the sort of book that needs long periods of attention because it's so good you get really into it and don't want to stop reading. So that was nice.
Here I am in the airport toilets, as you do. The traveller / hiker / snowmobile / I would have broken my neck / spine / ankles, had I not been wearing my super sensible shoes, borrowed from my father thanks to his tiny feet and my many pairs of woolly socks.

I went to Edinburgh to check out the art college, and also paid a visit to Duncan of Jordanstown College of Art in Dundee. Edinburgh seems a cool place; ECA was really impressive but with 120 first year places and approximately 4,000 applicants a year, the odds don't look like they're in my favour. The courses in DJCAD sounded really good with it being compulsory to study history of art, only thing is I could never live there for four years it would be like living every day in Corrib Village. *shudder... Does anybody know what Glasgow / it's colleges are like?

Y.B.W.

Do you know what's so much fun? Doing what you want, all day long! I don't know why more people don't do it all the time. I could really get used to living as an artist, it means that I get to do the things I have ideas for instead of just having them as ideas and not having the time or seeing the point in doing them. And the idea of starting a project with an old ballet shoe was, if I dare say so myself, an excellent one! One aspect of dance I'm looking at is the contrast of the pretty, perfect, on-stage picture of the ballerina in the tutu and the unglamorous behind-the-scenes world of hard work, blood, sweat and tears.

I went to my old ballet school last week to talk to the Principal to see if it would be okay for me to sit in on classes and do some sketching and take some photos. The school is Corrib Dance Academy but there is a subsidiary of this called Youth Ballet West, which was set up three years ago and provides the opportunity for additional training at a semi-professional level for those in the west of Ireland who are hoping to pursue dance at third level. It's much tougher than ordinary RAD classes because the expected standard is so much higher, you have to be in vocational training to be allowed audition. They hold an audition once a year and we had people from Galway, Limerick, Clare, Mayo and Longford join the first year. YBW is excellent because the only other opportunity for this sort of training in Ireland is with the Irish National Youth Dance and that's difficult for some people to get to, I know my parents wouldn't let me go for the first two years I wanted to because they weren't willing to drive for three hours there and back every weekend.

Anyway, two years ago we did The Nutcracker at Christmas and they're doing it again this year so when I arrived at the studio last week there were posters up for it and in my head I was like "Oh, I wonder will I recognise anybody in the picture..." Until I looked properly and saw it was me!!! I'm on the right, Jenny's on the left. And I'm not embarrassed, I think it's lovely they used this image because neither myself nor Jenny are in the company any more but it's like a little tribute to our old memories. Awww.
So what I'm doing now is recording my observings of the classes and rehearsals of YBW, which will develop and hopefully tie in to lots of others aspects of my project at a later date. I went along with my notebook yesterday not really knowing what I was doing and came out with pages upon pages of scribbles. It's actually quite difficult to draw a body that doesn't stay still longer than two seconds! Oh and everybody should buy tickets and come to the show. Of course I have to say it's going to be brilliant, but if you can take my word for it, it really will be really good!

We like to party

We like to party (Differentially that being the majestic plural and not the vengaboys) and as a pretty big group of friends it had been a while since all of us had last got together, so Jack threw himself a Britday party for his birthday, uniting us once more. Union Jack, ha ha.

Is that real fur? Is that a fake sheepskin rug?
No way?! Way!!
I love it, darling!

Hurrah for fancy dress for we love our Barbours, Burberry, Hunters, twee tweeds and what have you... I dare say he served up a simply spiffing old chap dinner party which proceeded to turn into a drunken hooligan snow party.

With real snow. From the sky.

Good times.....

The Coast Zone

I'm no librarian

Love is... books. Wait that's not fair, Love is... friends. No, I change my mind, Love is friends who give you books. Aha.

Do you ever get that feeling sometimes where you really want to read a certain something? Like you go and take down a Harry Potter book because, although you've read it four or five times already, you're just in the mood for it? Well I had that itching for Hemingway a few weeks ago and was paying frequent visits to the second hand book shop in town in the hope that they would get something in, but there wasn't even a sniff of anything around. Then one morning, after finishing a book I decided I was fed up waiting and asked my sister for her student card so I could go to the library. Ten minutes later the post came and what had arrived in a big white Amazonian envelope? A late birthday present ordered for me by a friend! Yes! Fiesta!

Love is... Nuala.

Still on the topic of books- when I was small I had one about Santa and his little helper. This helper had my name as my Godmother got the book printed for me for Christmas, oh but it was the most exciting thing to be in a story! I have recently received another book with my name in it, but this time I'm a horse. And the plot is a little bit um, different shall we say?

The opening page goes like this:
The mare was gleaming gold and dynamic movement and sliding, shining muscles. She was flowing mane and flying tail, racing against the wind. She was vividly aware of warm sun above, and cool grass beneath her hooves; of the background murmur of running water; of birdcall, an angry shouting at a questioning dogstoat, sleeking through the shivering stems. She was conscious of an intense joy in living, of power, and of pride that arched her slender neck. Her wide wise eyes observed the world around her, saw the sky above her, and her constantly flickering sensitive ears moved as a sudden gust groaned among the branches.
The man watching her wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in the world. He was driven by a physical need, a wild desire for possession. He wanted the feel of her warm hide against his hands, the thrill of watching her endlessly, galloping over springy turf. He wanted to caress her slim neck, to speak to her and have her conscious of him, turning her head so that her dark eyes could look at him with affection.
His mouth was dry with excitement. There never had been such a mare. She was bred from the desert wind and the moonlit night and the shimmering stars, bred from the raging need of man to find perfection. And she was perfect. Nothing flawed her. He craved her as a woman coveted a brilliant gem, as a child hungered for the glowing moon.

Yes... well... either way, Love is... Elspeth.

With thanks

Yesterday the radio said today is the national 'say thank you' day and asked people to call in with their messages. I pooh poohed the idea as another of those Hallmark money making rackets like mothers, fathers, grandparents, or whatever day; buy an expensive card to show someone that you want them to think you care. But today, silly me, I realised is actually Thanksgiving Day, a real official holiday for some people in some places. So what did I do? Went and hung out with my all-American friend Colin and baked a big sweet potato pie.
Then I came home and tried to do some work on my portfolio. I've taken an old pair of ballet shoes as my starting point and although I'm supposed to concentrate on observational studies and improving my technical drawing skills, I'm feeling a bit giddy and have got distracted by silly ideas like hand puppets

Left vs Right Hemisphere

I just read my last post and I sound like such a twat! So even though you haven't asked to hear my life story I'll explain things a little and try and put things on a sort of track...

Last year when I finished my final year exams I began a summer job with a property management company. During this time I tried to figure out what I wanted to do. Namely I tried to get a Visa to go and work/live in New York but it seemed the only way this would happen is if I got a company to sponsor me to go over and work with them in my area of study. And as I didn't want to be a psychologist and didn't have a hope of getting anything through English, this idea never materialised. My next idea was to give it a go doing something I'd always been interested in and I started looking at fashion design courses where you prepare portfolios for real fashion college. Through this I found a Fashion Industry course and decided this would be a far more sensible route to take. I liked fashion, I liked writing, and I always jokingly said I'd work for Vogue when I grew up, so this course looked promising in helping make this happen. Plus I wasn't throwing away my degree, I was just putting a more creative spin on it. September came and away I went to Dublin, where I spent a lot of the year on the 7 and the 46A going in and out of Dun Laoghaire! and outside of course work I found work experience with freelance stylists, as a dressers backstage at fashion shows, doing visual merchandising in shops, I did a stint as a retail sales assistant which has to be the most boring job ever, I assisted at vintage fairs, worked with photographers, learned important skills such as how to network, met with editors and designers and set up a blog. This blog I then tried to orientate toward fashion so in applying for jobs and whatnot I could reference it in truth.

Then that year was over and I was back in Galway and back with the property management company and back to square one: what next?
I didn't tell many people what I was doing but I applied to lots of magazines and then applied for lots of regular jobs and then just wanted to run away. Fuck the lot of it. I went to Spain to Keith's house in the mountains in Spain where I got really high by the pool every day, reflecting on life and the usual existential crisis stuff. By the time I came home I had it in my head that I wanted to go to art college. Because it's what I've always wanted to do. That or be a librarian. In school they talked me out of putting Art down on the CAO so I compromised, put down Arts with an 's', deferred my place and went to GTI for a year to do the portfolio course with all intentions of re-applying to the CAO and going on to do fine art. But one thing or another led me to NUIG and I'm honestly so glad I studied there and had the opportunity of a liberal arts education. But the 'what if...?' has come nagging at me - what if I had done art? What if I were to do it now? And so after an extended period of extreme mental turmoil I'm preparing a portfolio.

It's closing a door on one sort of happiness because I could be in London with Chris right now. But hopefully it's opening a window on a future of lifelong happiness as this is the only chance I'll have to do it and get any sort of financial help from my parents (that being the living at home and not paying rent scenario) and it means I'll get to do what I want and what I like all day every day with the super extra bonus of getting paid for it. Who said you can't have your cake and eat it? Ha ha well maybe instead I'll have bread and butter and eat it because a GIANT loan is coming my way if I get accepted anywhere. Just don't ask how I feel about not following through on what I've done thus far. Lets just say two things: I'm not made for the fashion world because I'm too much in my own world to keep up: I'll always love books.

Well that's where it's at. Artistic endeavours and a self-imposed social isolation; I'm keeping myself hidden away whilst I try and be productive because there's so much to do and so little time.
Although, that said, I did take a break and venture out to party at the weekend because Chris was home for two days and we couldn't possibly not rendezvous.

What's the use between death and glory?

Dear Blog,

How are you? It has been quite some time since we last met, but rest assured I've been out of touch with essentially everyone for the greater while.
I'm just dropping a quick line for it has gradually come to my attention that we seem to have strayed somewhat from our original beginnings and our humble intentions. We started together on a self- focused route with Sylvia Plath behind us driving us toward artistic output and from this we digressed. Deviating in a direction that may have been perceived as prodigiously ambitious we persevered for such a time. We weren't the best but God bless us we tried. Now for the long and the short of it the failure has been officially confirmed.
So until tomorrow when we might know whether wisdom has reared it's head on our ever less youthful selves and blessed us with renewed hopes, lets hold our breath, because happy endings they never bored me, happy endings they still don't bore me.

If you don't mind, I don't mind.

I want to take a ride...

Ashley Smith for Jalouse