we made these totoros from felt and sketches and lots of stitching time.
they’re the boy’s books – i can’t speak french.
here are some things from elsewhere. i was playing with a different camera, seeing how i’d do at making somewhere familiar look interesting again to me.
it’s not quite the calm neatness of blushing ambition but I don’t think anything in my life will ever quite match that…
autumn polyvore. hoping to add a million more clothes to that but let’s face it I probably won’t. And if I do they’ll probably be pretty poor. If anyone finds any awesome flat shoes let me know.
oh, and one of cats died last week. I was feeling very glum, and I went to see the rabbits. When I looked in the hutch this little guy was sat there posing with this tube on his head. He was just posing, just after I took this photo he took it off his head. Cheered me up no end, and I hope it makes you laugh too…
the pier was amazing. so was the t shirt with death riding a motorbike on it. fucking awesome.
After the party we slept on the floor, with Spinal Tap on the VHS. The next day we found ourselves eating cinammon buns and taking the train to the sea.
We spent the day at the beach.
We played aeroplanes on the pebbles and we swam in the sea and we collected sea shells, and we ate watermelon, and we each drank a beer and we ate pasties and we chatted, we read trashy magazines and ancient books of essays and got sunburned as the last hot summer day turned into long shadows.
and then it got dark and we were still there.
I loved it.
Had a bit of a housewarming/birthday party… Piled friends into our little flat and plied them with drink and pizza, cardgames and floor where there were no seats.
I fired up the boy’s 35mm camera for the occasion, but we’ll see how it goes. Just in case, We also took some digital photos, so eventually it’ll be one VS t’other. Bring it on. Anyway, here’s some digital snaps for now.
Hope the others are better, we’ll know when they get developed. But if you never hear speak of them again, then you’ll know why.
(obv I only took the pizza photo out of these three. The rest of the ones I took were unutterably abysmal. And you can’t cock up a photo of a pizza, even if it’s one in the morning and it’s your birthday party and you’re full of wine and something made of ‘caribbean twist’ mixed with strongbow and gin).
Washed dad’s harley. It took me ages to stop my ears pricking up when I heard a harley in Nottingham. Back in London I like hearing it coming round the corner and knowing dad’s nearby.
