For some reason this just won't rotate, so if you could just turn your head 90 degrees anti-clockwise that would be great. Thanks.
While doing a spot of tidying up last night, I decided to try and find somewhere to put all my old portfolios that have been piled up against one of our bedroom walls since the day we moved in here along with a stair gate that I can no longer remember why we brought - oh yeah, I saw a luxury duplex apartment on the internet that had slippery stairs of death and a mezzanine level above the kitchen that was just asking for toddlers to climb over and plunge to their death. I really, really wanted it, even though I knew that the miniscule stair gate extension was never going to breach the 8 foot-wide stair case, and even though I knew that the floor to 20 ft ceiling high windows would have us baking like mini souffles in the long hot Berlin summers. I'm not one to let these trifling matters stand in the way of a desirable home.
Anyway, Orla asked me what I was lugging around , so I decided to open one up and show her. I maybe look through my portfolios hmm...once every 4 or so years. So I showed her some of my old design work. I really enjoyed it as well. I found some old photos of my print group modelling some aprons we designed for a disabled dance group. I loved that project. Each of us was to design two aprons themed around the topic of the home. My room was the kitchen. I did a lovely fridge apron and a cooker one. I really enjoyed making them and I wish we had been able to get them back after the dance company finished with them.
I also found a printed textile design I did of tangerines which I am thinking of re-mounting and putting in a frame. I quite like it and momentarily at least I think I'd quite like to put it on the wall. Stevie says it 's not rocking his world and he would prefer something more pictorial. So, while we wait for him to sit down and do that I think I'll get my nails and hammer back out.
No comments:
Post a Comment
You're not going to leave without saying something, are you?