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Overtly Gay Dream
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2879
It was a damned strange dream and so with great difficulty I got myself up and made my notes and fell back asleep.
More of the same damned strange dream, and then I woke up and resolved to blog about it but the notes I had made didn't exist, they were in my dream as well.
Most disconcerting.
This is what I remember of it:
I'm waiting tables in a restaurant, dark wood, high ceilings, no place that I can remember. Waiting for drinks I've ordered at the bar I meet other people I've worked with - Fred, "Hot Sauce" Fred, only it doesn't really look like him, he's much better looking and the only reason I know it's Fred is because he's so damned sarcastic. I'm surprised that he's here and he's looking at me like I'm stupid, we all share this bar, he's from the restaurant next door, and I had forgotten/didn't know there was a restaurant next door....
Now I'm in the basement and another waiter, some Mexican fellow, is talking to a table about why they should tip, they're giving him a hard time, he's explaining that he's just glad of the opportunity of an honest living, they like that answer and leave and when they've left I check the bill, they've left nothing for a tip and I call him to tell him, curse them down, but when I turn around he's lying down naked with a big black waiter, flaccid cock, it's a homoerotic scene and other waiters in the basement are doing the same and I'm like "Uh-oh" and so I start to go upstairs, don't want to intrude and these are big boys and I really don't want to be made into anyone's bitch....
I'm upstairs, outside, looking at the restaurant and it's divided into 3 different restaurants, 2 thin ones on either side of one thick one in the middle, an older style "character" building, and I'm thinking that that explains running into Fred...
And that's it. Probably there was more but it's lost in the notebook lost in the dream...
Faberge eggs
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Lost
- Hits: 1976
Fabergé eggs. Check the Wiki. Note that of the 50 Imperial eggs known to have been made, some 8 are still missing. Possibly to turn up at a garage sale near you...
Father's Day
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2280
An early morning, I find myself unable to sleep in. Not Father's Day in particular, but any day, in the early afternoon I'll die and want nothing better than to nap, sleep, pass out in my bed, but it's morning and I'm up.
The flea market: great treasures today, found and not purchased: a made-in-china "Breguet", sharp but at $120.00 a bit steep...various games for the kids (Wii & Xbox), some jewelry, the rock lady had various finds resembling somewhat similar things I'd been ordering off Ebay (but not at the same price), an antique telephone for $15 but purchased for $10 (don't ask, I have my reasons...), other finds....all in all a good flea market day. I could have spent a few hours, but it's father's day and the kids, they have plans.
Well, not really. The daughter made me a bookmark in school, keywords placed on the blackboard and interpreted by the children for their fathers - My name, spelled out: "Respect - Get a new job, Organize - I need to see you, Different - Love ....".
Yep, I need a new job. 12 weeks until the new theatre season, and I should be resolved not to miss it regardless of the consequences. I have to mind the consequences, I've lived through them and they're too fresh in my mind to be ignored, the table hasn't sold (still get comments though) and I don't want to have to move again.
Time passes.
After the children have been repackaged, carefully returned to their more competent and well rested caregivers, I have my nap.
An Artist's Life
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
- Hits: 1912
Almost done, which is to say less than 100 pages to go. Given that the only time I find to read is on the bus I could hope to be done sometime next week...
But it's enough, certainly, to review it. It is, as the title might indicate, simply the memoirs of a rather successful English Edwardian Artist, member and President of the Royal Academy. There are sentences and paragraphs and entire chapters about horses, the author (Sir Alfred Munnings) really liked horses and painting horses.
But that aside, it's a good portrait (albeit heavily privileged) of the times. At the age of 14, when his parents were wondering what was to be done with a child that showed a strong inclination towards Art (and little else) he was apprenticed out to a Lithographer and learned the trade, using what little free time he had to take further night classes. By the age of 20 he left and began his career as a painter; shortly after experiencing no little success selling his portraits and horsey scenes.
It's an interesting picture of another age. His writing of paintings that sold for 250 Guineas, when the first country house he bought cost him $1750 Guineas, (7 bedrooms with 2 cottages for servants) should give you an idea of his success. The wiki article linked above will confirm it. It's also worthwhile in that he mentions (and judges) his contemporaries - the plays of Somerset Maugham, the paintings of Paul Klee amongst others.
It as well very much underlines the training and apprenticeship, that along with his talent, contributed to his success as an artist.
Not a great book, but a good portrait of the times, and a practical approach both to living and art that's often lost when we picture "Artists".
Worthwhile.
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