LEGEN... wait for it...

I whinge a lot. Unless other people are whinging, and then I like to annoy them by seeing all the silver linings and happy, smiling sunflowers. I think I'm a contradictist. But that's neither here nor there, what I was trying to get at was; I miss Edinburgh. It was pretty there. It had snow, and cobbled streets, and Irish bands playing in Scottish pubs, and good friends and half decent rum.
Paris is just not my kind of place.
Though I will say, the language barrier has been my favourite part. As I'm sure many lazy travellers do, I had planned on learning at least a few French phrases before boarding a plane, but never got around to it. After all, we're only here for six days. So I have my little phrasebook with me (mostly so I can wave it around politely showing that I'm at least attempting to not assume that English governs the western world) and my vague knowledge of pronunciation I picked up from watching Amelie over a hundred times.
It's quite fun, really. Such a relief to challenge the brain. I almost forgot I had one.
It was probably the thing I found the most disappointing about Africa, there was hardly any need or point in learning the languages, even to be polite. And Swahili's such an awesome language. Especially when they insert "hakuna matata" into nearly everything they say, what's NOT awesome about that?

That reminds me... have I ranted about the extraordinary visual brilliance of the stage production of the Lion King? No? Aw. Well, I guess that (and today's adventure to the Disney Studio) will have to wait for another time. Or not. Because face it, I'll probably forget. So I'll sum them both up - DARY.

Oh yeah, and I sketched a little last night.

From Paris, With Love.

I struggle with adventure sometimes. All I want is to cuddle up in my cramped and creaky room, hide under a blanket and watch DVDs. Maybe because I've seen the touristy things in Paris before, granted, I was fourteen, but they did little to trigger much enthusiasm then.
I'm such a travel grinch :)
Tomorrow we do the Eiffel Tower to the Louvre, and whatever we can fit in between. And my aim is to lighten up and not make fun of the old masterpieces just because they're not my taste. And if I'm a good girl, I'll convince my companions to go to Disneyland the day after.

On a belated note...... late X-mas present brings Skull Candy headphones. The Boy knows me so well *smiles*

Less Snow, More Lights.

Christmas involved my first experience sledding down a snowy hill on flattened cardboard boxes. This event alone has crawled to the top of my Christmas experiences.
We also made a Bundy Rum Snowbear, had general snow fun and a great pub dinner. Also curtesy of codename: Purple Tiger, who's found all the best places and activities since she moved here in November.

Edinburgh isn't really any busier during the boxing day sales as Brisbane on any given school holiday day. Half the places don't even open, which is nice... though it meant I was left staring into the dark windows of several art supply stores.

*sniff sniff*

Good Morning, Edinburgh.

I like Scotland. The streets, the accent, the warm and cozy pubs and the winter wonderland that starts outside my hotel window and extends all the way to the edge of the world.

But more on that later.

Every now and then I wonder what my life would be like if I had no hobbies.

Following the trend of posting what's currently in my bag.

Day One, In London Town.

My patience wears thin, but the snow is my compensation.

To answer my earlier question; yes, you can smell when's it's snowing, but there are very few associations I have with any of the smells. I like that.

I've barely had a chance to breath it all in let alone sketch anything, so the daily drawings are scribbly at best, and non-existant at their worst. Instead, I bought a beanie.

Already Counting Down the Days.

Today was a strange mixture. The sunrise was pretty, and so were the blue eyes, but leaving the three canines and two felines at their "holiday resort" was anguish.
I'm usually a glass half full kind of girl. But tonight, as I look around my quiet house, void of four legged company, and I scan through our flight itinerary, only one thought is running through my head; I can't wait till we get back.

I've never been apt at leaving home.

But nonetheless here we go (again). Das vadanya, Australia.

Festivities of the December Nature.

I know it's not fashionable, or smiled upon by most of my generation, but I really love Christmas.
It's the smell; the casual rain, the pretty lights, the hussle and bustle in shopping centres overrun with holiday music... but mostly, it's the smell.

I know the technicality of the olfactory bulb being apart of the brain's limbic system, with easy access to the amygdala and hippocampus mixed in with conditioned responses blah blah blah all equals we smell, we remember... but I'm still floored by the ability one scent of summer has to trigger a montage of festive moments.
Especially wrapping paper. Man, wrapping paper just smells like every year that's come before, staying up late watching december appropriate movies and tying ribbons around packages. More recently accompanied by something fruity and alcoholic.

In just under a week The Boy, My Parental and myself will be enduring our first white Christmas. We'll go from singlets to scarves and turn our world upside down for a month or so, all in the spirit of distraction. I got excited today and packed my bag :)
I've never spent much time in the snow, or even in the cold for that matter... how well does your sense of smell work in the cold?

On a complete diversion from Christmas, my daily sketch produced my favourite Disney villain.
Nothing wrong with a little referencing once in awhile.

Nostalgia.

3am and I write 'cause I'm still wide awake, and I have nothing to do as the night dissipates, and the muggy air coats my skin salty sweet, and the hum and the glow of the lights by the street, remind me of days long gone but not lost, when life seemed so complex and I'd care not the cost, of seeing the sunrise again and again, ink soaked and grinning; the shadows my friends.

It seems to be the day for missing things that used to be, even if I'd never change what is.

Silly little sketch in gouache. Just for a bit of fun.

A Few More Drops of Rain.

Ah, rain, you are my oldest and dearest friend.
I love that our gutters are broken. Hours after a downpour I can still hear the dripping from the roof to the grass. It helps me to concentrate. And to breath. And, when I'm lucky, to create. Not that I've been sketching up anything tonight. Last night, though, was more productive:


Little gouachey works in progress. Maybe I'll finish them, maybe I'll move on. The point is, I painted. Aside from maybe a few birthday cards and some polymer sculptures I'm not even sure I've touched a paintbrush this year.
It feels good to be back.

Upstairs, Downstairs.

I love that I married a musician (codename: The Boy). It means that every nook and cranny of our house is stashed with instruments or canvases, paintbrushes or guitar picks, headphone jacks or bottles of ink. There's always new riffs playing through the speakers and love notes illustrated on the bedroom walls.
While tonight The Boy and his twin codename: Doppelganger are vocalising some new parts of a song, I have the upstairs to myself, old sketchbooks and issues of Frankie spread across the lounge room floor for inspiration, paint pallet resting precariously on the couch arm. The voices, beats and strums float up the stairs, occasionally interjected with laughter. It's repetitive, as they constantly re-work their piece, but I love it.

One More Daily Goal.

Rather than just start (and, hey, like most people probably fail at) a New Years resolution, I thought I'd train myself into my ideals early, starting, as usual, with the ink.

I didn't find much time this year to fill my beloved sketchbooks with anything but swirly lines, so my only goal now is to drain all my thoughts out of my head and drip them onto paper... or, at the very least, get in some much needed technical practise.

So I've deleted the old junk on this blog and endeavour to fill it with some daily sketches and unfinished pieces.
If you've somehow stumbled onto this page by accident; don't mind my midnight rambling, I'm only a little crazy.

Inky Goodness.