Guitar Dreaming

I've been trying to teach myself to play the guitar for the past year now. I've got to be honest, I'm not making great strides forward, but this week I had my first ever GUITAR DREAM. In it I was being mentored by two rock guitar gods and I was (obviously) fantastic. We were jamming and hanging out and I was asking lots of deep penetrating guitary questions. Next thing the dream shifts a bit and I'm walking around strumming an acoustic when I start singing and playing a totally new original song. I got too excited at this point, woke myself up and spent the two hours before the alarm went off trying to think of the next lines. It was only then that realisation dawned - the music was remarkably similar to 'Sandy' from Grease and the lyrics were a load of pants - still it was damned exciting and I took it as a sign from some higher power. Destiny awaits ....

(you can tell how rubbish the song was as I can't bring myself to relay it to you here)

Enough of that, back to the art.

Friday 9th January.

Blog, blog bloggety blog, what's the point of the blog? Well bugger me and shiver me Mr Jesus H effin Christ alive timbers it's cold and you can bet whatever's dear to you that I would not be out here painting if I didn't need something to write about for the blog. It was -8 again last night and I don't think the temperature has gotten above freezing as I stand here trying to paint on the corner of Queen Square. Brrrr

I've not got long before my fingers and toes will start hurting so I work as quick as I can. I started this painting a couple of months ago and the shadows are slightly different - the wall on the right is in shadow so I'm going to have to come back again in a few weeks when the sun is higher in the sky to finish it.

I like it when the school kids go by - not the teenagers - they're too cool for school (get me with my hip happening down with the yoof lingo) - but the younger kids as the whoop excitedly along the lines of ...
"Look there's an artist!"
"Where?"
"There."
"Wow, an artist ... what's he doing?"
"Let's have a look."
"Wow, that's bitchin'!" (where did he get that? he can't be older than 7 or 8)

The class walk on by and I'm left smiling to myself - not sure they know what they're talking about, but the compliments don't hurt.

I'm right - I don't last long, but in my defense the painting has moved forward and the end is almost in sight.