Wet and Wobbly

Thursday 16/07/09

Yeah, see, I thought if I did these line drawings enough I'd sort of start getting better. Some hope.

Friday 17/07/09

Had a first go on Wii Fit the other day (if you haven't you should cos it's good - subject to the following reservations on its ability to add up). It's the art of wobbling (or not) about on a board and with a confidence borne of knowing my bmi as independently verified and certificated by the BIOBANK I confidently took to the board and wobbled (or not) in front of a crowd of partisan family members. Oh the shame, oh the travesty, oh the ridicule by said formerly supportive crowd as the software churns out a 'Wii fit age' of 52!! Pah! What's the good in wobbling (or not) on a board anyway?! Surely it's much better to play 5-aside football in the pouring rain in a butch and hearty kind of way?

Maybe the board knows more than I think as after the 15 min wobble work out I was already feeling some sort of burn (maybe it was just wind) and after football yesterday I'm once again walking into town to paint with legs all stiff and achy (at least we won).

It's grey and miserable (the weather, the painting and the artist all combining in a symphony of grey and miserableness). I've got the wet weather gear incorporating my dad's old raincoat that he generously donated to the cause. It's green and combined with the brown trousers and the white tilley hat I think I'm looking explorer like, but probably not the good guy as I don't look cool enough - in an Indiana Jones type movie, you'd be thinking I'm going to bite the bullet before the end - maybe when the rope bridge gets cut, or the truck explodes, or ... anyway ... where was I ...

Back to this painful painting and the weather. It's been so long since I started the thing that the shop is no longer empty and is busy trying to flog overpriced rustic design against the tide of recession - we'll see, but I'm not holding my breath. I try painting from a different spot to avoid blocking the window, but it's no good, so I move back and try to nestle between the gift shop and the curry house next door which sort of works.

It starts to rain, good and proper, but with the wet weather gear I can keep going for a while - I get soaked, but the painting moves forward. I can't believe I got all my angles so wrong and I end up repainting most of it - it's still not right, but it's getting better.

The zip doesn't work properly on the coat - aha! that's why he palmed it off on me - and it smells of my dad, which isn't a bad thing - it's not stinky or anything - it's just one of those smells of home that take you back to your childhood, probably emphasised by the wetness of it all. It's all slightly surreal - standing painting in the pouring rain, smelling of my dad.