Head`s Up

You have no idea the pain and sweat that went into this.

Not the creation of the art, or even the taking of the shot.. but the actual blog part of it.

With the patience of a saint Lynda has made it possible to get this far.. thank you! Now for the enabling it to be a regular feature..

Feels like a Lenten discipline slightly overwhelming..sacrificial.. but maybe that`s what it`s all about. Being mindful about doing it differently - thoughtful about priorities and accepting that we are only human giving it our best shot - with a huge dollop of Divine grace.

Bring it on.

( The pic was spotted on the road at the top of the Narroway..it`s massive - this is a section and made me wonder how I hadn`t spotted it before!)

Later the same day...

Oh here's an exciting development... two snaps in one day. One from her and one from me.

Interestingly enough my snap is of art too. Art in progress. Just been over at No 41 showing a film called Budrus for their Lent Movie Night (a nod to J and A's imminent trip to the West Bank) and after I'd finished reading E a story I spotted this on M's bed. I really hope she doesn't mind me posting it. (When someone did that to me I was soooo angry... mind you they'd taken a picture of a huge pile of administrative mess with some throwaway phrase to describe it, and I felt 'outed' ... these bits of my life I am not proud of and there they were, for all to see.. Probably still up there in cyberspace somewhere...). I did check with Rach who thought she'd be fine about it but M: let me know if you want me to take it down!

What I love about this is the indication of who's bedroom it is... a person who's creativity spills out of her in all she does. It's just leaking out, begging to be set free... a bit like the oil paint on her duvet cover!! (In my best 'mum mode' I am not at all impressed with this wanton disregard for household furniture, but hey, she's not my daughter!). Reminds me of Neil's tales of trying to paint during his art degree in his room, while he lodged in a family home in Wimbledon. He spent ages one time trying to match a colour in the pattern of the duvet so he could mask the colour he'd spilt on it, knowing that he would never be able to get the oil paint off. Top tip for you there Millie! (Mind you I don't think it actually worked. Duvet was returned after the next wash, stain prominently showing on top of the folded quilt cover. 

It's tempting, sometimes, to paper over the cracks, to pretend all is OK and try to hide the big mistakes away. But it never really works. Not in oil spillages. Not in relationships. Not in spiritual journeying. Not in the occupied Palestinian territories.