I don’t know what can have been the cause, but last night I dreamt I was voice coaching Theresa May. It can’t be because I want her brand of politics to get a better hearing, I find it abhorrent. Maybe it’s just because she makes so many speeches which we get to hear bits of on the news, and they are always so boring. In my dream I was showing her how back in the 80s Not the Nine O’clock News satirised politicians, pointing out similarities between the satire and her own delivery. Awake, I think The Two Ronnies might have been better source material. I know I spent some time trying to stop her saying ‘I’m very clear’ so maybe it was in the interests of my health, as any politician who says they are or have been clear generally means the opposite, and it winds me up. What we were aiming for in my dream was a little spontaneity, some glimpse of the person she presumably is. Perhaps I should have got her to talk about kitten heels. Continue reading
Winding down after my mosaics class. Not as relaxing as usual as a deadline looms. We have an exhibition soon and my piece is not ready.
I’m going to have to find time and space at home to work on it. So, my blogs may soon be typed with fingers bloodied from toiling with the tile nippers.
So forgive me in advance if I start babbling about beads and buttons and fragments of china I’ve picked up from the foreshore, bus stop glass and found earrings and broken jewelry.
This rubbish is what my dreams are made from.