annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary



I'm exhausted already by the general election blizzard of bullshit, but I'm doing my best to inform as many people as possible of what's going on behind the wall of media silence. I even delivered Labour party leaflets round this estate which was scary, to be honest. Lots of muscular, barking dogs, lots of broken windows, that kind of thing. It is quite rough here, which is why it was cheap.

Anyway, que sera sera with all that. If May gets in again we are majorly fucked. I foresee cold nights and weight loss no longer being a problem. But who knows - France turned its back on fear-mongering and they've had more to generate fear than either we or the US.

Today was the private view at the Artists' Open House at the recovery centre - very well attended. If I'd submitted more beach hut pics I'd have sold them all, but I didn't, so there you go. I was invited to speak in the speechifying bit as a service user, which I managed to do, without any notes. I just said I loved my Friday art group, it's a safe place, an oasis of calm in my chaotic life, which it enhances greatly and thank you very much. That kind of thing. One of the staff standing near me welled up, all teary she was. So there was that.

I also was "mansplained" twice on facebook, which was hilarious. The first one was when someone had asked about some badly written, ambiguous signs about roadside parking charges which I'd had explained to me by a traffic warden. I gave this information and a man followed my comment with one saying, "Yes, she's right. It's exactly like that," as if it needed a man's rubber stamp to verify that what I said a traffic warden had said was true. Then I found something weird on the beachIMG_9589

loads of them, that I'd never seen before, so I posted it on the FB page of the town I used to live in, where there are loads of sea fishing people, and asked what it was. A young woman suggested squid eggs, so I google image searched and yes, that was it, for sure. So that was what I said:"Thanks, I google image searched and you're right, squid eggs!". Underneath, not one but two separate men told me it was squid eggs - which we'd already established, fuckers.


I found this little sweet face on my beach clean yesterday:


and held it in my hand, thinking I'd keep it. It felt companionable (because to be honest I am so godawful fucking lonely out here in Real Life), like a wee friend. I stroked it with my fingers as I walked the high tide line, picking up fishing line and stuff and then suddenly I realised I didn't have it any more and fer fuck's sake, I cried like a baby. For a piece of plastic that looked like a face. Sigh.

This morning was art at the other place. I'm currently doing continuous line in permanent pen with a bit of quick bish-bash-bosh watercolour, of my own photos when I can get the fucking printer to work, but today I couldn't so I did a Cezanne out of a book:


I'm going to try and make a proper page for the art I want to sell, on Thursday, when it would be yoga if I wasn't still all fucked up in the legs and the chest.


I am grateful for: two art groups; online friends; a body that will heal in the end - I do know how lucky that makes me; dancing tomorrow morning (so cool!); rain forecast for Thursday and then onwards

12:42 a.m. - 10.05.17


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