Or this...

Artrage and ultrafractal in this one. There's hundreds of drawings in my album, what does it all mean, ha,ha?

How did I do this?

Now and then I pop into my Picasa web album which is where all my uploaded drawings mysteriously land up and I find stuff that I cannot fathom out how I made. I try to stick with one piece of software but some drawings are made with four or five different programmes. Yes, I know I have already posted today. I am in acute diversion activity.
Anyway, here's a link to a very good cause and to the memory of a very nice blogger called Kaz.
http://www.justgiving.com/kazblog

Chocks away...

The guitar group was utter, utter chaos, myself included. I got totally lost and I was only on the second line. Blank, one hundred per cent, and I'm thinking...why has everyone stopped? Which they had, because they always stop if I stop. Jordi has his head in his hands. "How is it possible that you're all getting worse? It's your responsibility. Your group."
Quite a squirmy afternoon. Got a lift home from Edith de France who is by now in Corsica. Came into the computer/guitar room, unfolded music stand and sliced off part of my right hand. Why do umbrellas and music stands have razor sharp bits? Anyway, it looks like a maroon coloured woodlouse has taken up residency in the palm of my hand...and it hurts.
I am trying to tidy up the house but it appears I am merely moving one pile of rubbish from one room to another. I would quite happily throw everything away and start again...except the guitars...and the books...and great,great grandfather paintings...and the weeping willow chair...oh rats.

Landing gear up

I really like children's books. This one has been handed down over generations but I vividly remember reading it and marvelling at the illustrations.
The shopping trip ran fairly smoothly but was about three hours longer than I would normally spend on such things. El Corte Ingles has an amazing bed department with gigantic beds topped with great mountainous, sparkling white duvets, and pillows that look like clouds, soft, fuzzy throws and blow me if I didn't just feel like launching myself into midair and landing right in the middle of one with a satisying thluccckkkkaahh.
But Alice was in Susanna and Trini mode so I was whisked quickly by, and into the depths of coat hangers and rails. Alice finds it intensely amusing that I cannot actually see over the railings so spend most of the time in any department store pretty much lost and wandering around, what is for me, a maze.
 But I found what I was looking for.

劉穎古箏演奏： 曉霧 GuZheng : The Misty morning

One small dog

Adobe illustrator has great virtual paintbrushes and it's got me thinking...is it time to get out the oils and do a great big canvas? I used to have a studio where the light poured in from the ramshackle roof and windows. It looked onto an ancient castle and on certain days the vultures would wheel by in the sky, or a deer that lived near a railway bridge would trot past in the morning mist.
Or if you couldn't think what to do you could wander down to the pines where the Romans and Moors threw their broken dinner plates at various intervals and pick up handfuls of decorated shards.
I am off to land of ancestors soon. Easily found on Google Streetview where you can take a virtual tour of the west coast of Scotland. I was there this morning. It still looks wonderful. 

Flightplan.

The sun came out briefly and the landscape seemed ten times larger and brighter with so much moisture in the air. The sky very, very blue, the larks going brrrrrut bbbrrrrrrrrut brrrttuuutttuuuuuurrrrrrrr and busy beasts in the scrubby bushes going zzzzzttttt   zzzzzeerrrrtttttttt and the hoopoos going oooooooooooppppoooooo   ooopppppoooooooo. And somehow (probably me being vertically challenged) I am surrounded by waist high wild dog roses and the vegetation stretches from the mountains behind me to the horizons around me and not a building or person in sight. It's at moments like this I feel utterly connected with absolutely everything.

Alice who used to be Frank is dragging me off to El Corte Ingles again. She has taken it upon herself to become my personal dresser. A post I had not even advertised for. It's all going to land up in tears...