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Viewing: Blog Posts from All 1562 Blogs, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 26 - 50 of 662,375
26. Halloween Decorations

The wooden skull and pumpkins
Dangle neatly by the door.
The ghost and owl made of felt
Add much to the decor.

The cat and witch are wishing all
A Happy Halloween
And soon a jack-o-lantern will
Give credence to the scene.

The skeleton quite jauntily
Holds court while on his perch.
The scary part was finding them
From last year - what a search!

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27. A normal Friday at Uni...??

Friday wrapped up our first week back to Uni in absolute chaotic style. The morning began on the east side of town at the Minto House on Chambers Street. I haven't figured out the best path between Minto House and my studio in the Evolution House yet - although the southern-most path goes by the Brazilian Crepe Stand, Tupiniquim, one of my fave places to eat lunch in Edinburgh, so I imagine I'll be going that direction a lot. And it's flatter - that's a big deal here. Direct paths aren't always the best paths to take in this city as you can end up going UP and DOWN and UP!

Anyhow, MFA 2nd-year students (MFA2s) have Context (the academic/writerly portion of our studies) in a tighter setting than last year's lecture theatre. I know almost everybody in my group now, and we'll get loads done on our dissertations, which occur this semester. (In the UK you write a dissertation for your Masters and a Thesis for your PhD - it's opposite in the states.) My theme is "Comparing and Contrasting the US Caldecott and UK Greenaway Award-winning Picture Books to Identify Trends, Similarities and Differences Between the US and UK Markets." Wish me luck!
     After our Context meeting, I had a meeting with my personal tutor back at the main Art building. My tutor works in Fashion Design, which gave me all sorts of fun ideas for my Exit Show, which will happen this coming May.
     I then had my one-on-one with Jonathan Gibbs, head of our illustration department. He was extremely helpful guiding my direction for the upcoming semester.
     Then it was back to the Minto House for our breakout groups - called Seminar. (In the future, I'll use this in-between gap time to go to the main campus library and write.)
     Then back again to Evolution House for our semester kick-off project called EIEIO. All illustration students - undergrads and postgrads were broken into groups and given a nursery rhyme to dramatize in some creative way (leaving the audience to guess which nursery rhyme you had). My group was assigned "The Little Nut Tree." I wasn't familiar with this one, but apparently it was a political satire based on Catherine of Aragon, who originally married Henry VIII's brother Arthur, who proved to be infertile, so she became the first wife of King Henry VIII and Queen of England. Ironically, there were two Americans in my group. Our third member (English) came up with the idea to adapt the tale to American politics. This is what happened as a result:
We reworded the poem a bit. Instead of giving a golden pear and a silver nutmeg to the princess, as the rhyme states, the "prince" now gave a golden elephant and silver donkey to the "princess." OMG.
     The whole point of the project is to become familiar with the studio spaces and make friends, and that certainly happened! Turns out Harriet plays guitar. We went to lunch the other day at Hula Juice bar, then stopped by Red Dog music and jammed on their guitars for a bit - FUN!
     But my day wasn't over yet!
     Blackwell's Books hosted an amazing event that pretty much every kidlit fan in Edinburgh attended - An Evening with Oliver Jeffers, Sam Winston & Eoin Colfer (CLICK HERE to read more about it). Of course, that meant heading back over to Chambers Street again - seriously! A bunch of us met up at Revolution Bar to grab a snack before-hand, then head to the event hosted by our illustrious and dear Vivian French.
Hazel Terry did a nice write up of the event - CLICK HERE to read. I was pretty tired, must admit. Needless to say, when I finally got home, I went straight to bed!

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28. How the ‘Storks’ Filmmakers Transformed A Pack of 100 Wolves Into…Anything

The scene-stealing transforming-wolves in "Storks" were both a creative and technical animation challenge.

The post How the ‘Storks’ Filmmakers Transformed A Pack of 100 Wolves Into…Anything appeared first on Cartoon Brew.

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29. भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच संबंध

भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच संबंध में लगातार खटास बढती जा रही है और इसका जीता जागता उदाहरण है न्यूज चैनल जो दिन रात युद्द कराने की फिराक में हैं   भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच युद्ध भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच संबंध में बढती खटास के चलते अब  भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच युद्ध […]

The post भारत और पाकिस्तान के बीच संबंध appeared first on Monica Gupta.

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30. The Top 25 Publishers for New Authors

http://www.authorspublish.com/the-top-25-publishers-for-new-authors/

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31. Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia

Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia. Brandon Sanderson. 2009. Scholastic. 299 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: So there I was, hanging upside down underneath a gigantic glass bird, speeding along at a hundred miles an hour above the ocean, in no danger whatsoever.

Premise/plot: This is the third book in the Alcatraz fantasy series. IN this one, Alcatraz and company arrive at last in the Free Kingdoms, in Nalhalla. Alcatraz wrestles with fame and ego in this one. Though raised in the Hushlands in a Librarian-controlled nation, he's FAMOUS in Nalhalla already, even starring in his own book series. (The book series being written by the Prince himself). Open up one of his books, and his theme music plays. You don't really get more famous than Alcatraz Smedry, of course, it's not really, truly HIM that is famous, more an idea of him. Also in this one, Bastille is put on trial. Will she be stripped of knighthood? How long will her punishment last? I should also not forget to mention that the LIBRARIANS want to come to peaceful terms and end the war at last. But Alcatraz and his friends suspect the WORST. But so many people want peace that they seem willing to give the Librarians the benefit of the doubt....

My thoughts: This one is an action-packed read full of fun and humor. I love this series. And I think I enjoyed this third book even more than the first two books. Folsom was a great new character to introduce--loved his talent, by the way. And it was nice to meet a librarian who wasn't evil for a change!!!

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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32. डॉक्टर कैसे बने – मरीजो से किस तरह पेश आएं सीख रहें हैं डाक्टर्स

डॉक्टर कैसे बने पढ कर आपको हैरानी नही हुई होगी क्योकि कोई भी डॉक्टर बन सकता है पर यहां बात अच्छा डॉक्टर कैसे बने की हो रही है अच्छा डॉक्टर बनने का तरीका डॉक्टर कैसे बने – मरीजो से किस तरह पेश आएं सीख रहें हैं डाक्टर्स… यकीनन एक हट कर खबर है … आज अखबार में एक […]

The post डॉक्टर कैसे बने – मरीजो से किस तरह पेश आएं सीख रहें हैं डाक्टर्स appeared first on Monica Gupta.

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33. WHEN WE WERE ALONE by David Alexander Robertson and Julie Flett

When We Were Alone is one of those books that brought forth a lot of emotion as I read it. There were sighs of sadness for what Native people experienced at boarding schools, and sighs of--I don't know, love, maybe--for our perseverance through it all.


Written by David Alexander Robertson and illustrated by Julie Flett, When We Were Alone will be released in January of 2017 from Highwater Press. I read the ARC and can't wait to hold the final copy of this story, of a young children asking her grandmother a series of questions, in my hands.

The story is meant for young children, though of course, readers of any age can--and should--read it.

It opens with the little girl saying:
Today I helped my kókom in her flower garden. She always wears colourful clothes. It's like she dresses in rainbows. When she bent down to prune some of the flowers, I couldn't even see her because she blended in with them. She was like a chameleon. 
"Nókom, why do you wear so many colours?" I asked. 
That child, wondering about something and then asking that "why" question is the format for the story. To this first question, her grandmother says that she had to go to school, far away, and that all the children had to wear the same colors. They couldn't wear the colourful clothes they did before they went to that school. Here's Julie Flett's illustration of the children, at school. I can't look at this illustration without my heart twisting:



Twisting at the expressions on their faces and wondering what they felt, and then I feel a different kind of emotion as I read the next page and look at the next illustration, because the grandma tells the child what they did to be colourful again. They rolled in the leaves, when they were alone:


There's a page about why she wears her hair so long, now, and why she speaks Cree, now. And, a page about being with family. Each one evokes the same thing. Tenderness. And a quiet joy at the power of the human spirit, to survive and persevere in the face of horrific treatment--in this case--by the Canadian government.

Stories of life at residential or boarding school are ones that Native people in the US and Canada tell each other. In Canada, because of the Truth and Reconciliation project, there's an effort to get these stories into print. I'm glad of that. We haven't seen anything like the Truth and Reconciliation project in the U.S., but teachers and libraries need not wait for something similar to start putting these books into schools, and into lesson plans.

When We Were Alone is rare. It is exquisite and stunning, for the power conveyed by the words Robertson wrote, and for the illustrations that Flett created. I highly recommend it.

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34. And Now for Something COMPLETELY Different: A New Way to Record History!

Another message from Deedy. But at least it's not about her OTHER KIND OF WRITING for a change. Love, the Izzy Elves


* * *

As some of you might know, I usually write posts about historical events, historical fiction, and the like about the 17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries. Today I am writing about an exciting new form of recording history in the 21st century to be done by Smock Media Holdings, a film production company based in Venice Beach, CA. This is a company created and run by my sons, Hawk and Nate Jensen.

Hawk is an experienced, award-winning documentary film-maker. He has come up with a groundbreaking idea for recording historical occurrences using VR360 (for an explanation, read the text below).

 To put this into practice, Hawk and his Managing Producer bro, Nate, need some help.

Please click on the following link to watch a video explaining what Hawk and Nate want to accomplish, and to connect to the crowdfunding campaign to make this happen. 
Support this 21st Century History Project!

Thanks!

Dorothea Jensen (Proud Mother)

P.S. Even  a dollar helps!


 

The award-winning documentary filmmakers at Smock Media in Venice Beach, CA are raising $57,500 for a virtual reality project called PRIME OBSERVER®.  Our goal is to build Camerasuits® for our team of zany photojournalist / documentarian / adventurers to capture full 360 degree footage of spectacular cultural and historical moments that place you INSIDE
these events as we experience them.
 
Ever wanted to go back to relive Burning Man or Coachella? Wanted to know what it's really like to be in the middle of a floor fight at a political convention? Wanted to stand between rival protest marches and form your own opinion of what happened? Wanted to surround yourself by all the glitz, glamour and glitterati at Fashion Week but couldn't get on the red carpet?  Prime Observers® Hawk, Ramblin' Tom, Kalia, Ben, Dakota, Nathaniel, Andylee and Abba Austin will put you there.     
 
Virtual reality is a whole new medium to record history.  With over 150 years of combined documentary production experience we know where to place the camera to capture "the moment" but now we ourselves will become that camera inside that moment.  Filmmaking will never be the same.  Come step into the scene with us!

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35. Nest



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36. Sumatra: Brain Fever

I chalk it up to heat-induced temporary insanity. It could happen to any Canadian crossing the equator. I had a strong desire to make my way to Germany, dye my hair orange and drum for a punk band which specialized in industrial music. The desire passed as the bus followed the road through the lush jungle vegetation past rice paddies and wilted looking livestock. When I thought about summoning enough energy to listen, I was convinced I could hear the plants grow in the humidity. The whole island was a hothouse. The single minded bus driver seemed to be the only one expending energy as he missed pedestrians, livestock and other vehicles, leaned on the horn. We were used to the danger by now. A sort of fatalistic resignation takes over on breakneck bus rides through the countryside of Sumatra. It was too hot to care. We had left the craziness and heroin of Penang behind. The sweat dripped off of our noses. Everyone on the bus, even the natives, had a worn out, washed out look. We were travelling from Medan, where the ferry from Penang had taken us, down the spine of Sumatra to Lake Toba, thence to Padang, about halfway down the island, on the coast. In Padang we spent hours at the consulate waiting to get our visas renewed because it was cheaper there than in Bali. Of a dozen uniformed clerks, two were reading, the rest inspected the Western girls or stared into space, a paper clip twisting in their fingers. When they did stir to attend the sweating crowd of travellers they wanted to first see proof that you had a return ticket. It’s the only legal way to enter Indonesia. It didn’t matter that we’d entered days before at Medan. The passports and applications lay in a pile on a desk. They didn’t have to worry about an overwhelming influx of immigrants heading south since the island of Java is the most thickly populated place on earth, but it was one way for the government to get money from travellers. A Japanese girl told Joyce that she had tonsilitis and that they didn’t have toilet paper even in hospitals in Padang. Seventy-five cents for dormitory beds at the local hostel. Officially marrying before getting to Asia saves a lot of problems. Single women are targets. At Lake Toba, we recovered from the bus ride during which it was too hot to sleep. The soaking heat deprived us of every traveller’s last resort, the final escape from the tedium and discomfort ... sleep, oblivion. There, time stood still, then went backward. We had landed in a timeless, primitive existence. Surrounded by the jungle and jungle sounds. Old men wailed their night songs in the dark. It sounded like a Tarzan movie. Wild boar lived in the jungle, endangered humans occasionally, provided meat and tusks more often. Snakes and mongooses and their spirits were part of the diet and the mythology. Ancient Sumatran devils caused poor sleep, restless dreams. All the dwellings had horned roofs which intruded, then dominated. A reminder that no matter what it was like in the outside world, this was here and now. This primitive existence was the present. Reality. No luxuries, no concrete, no advanced plumbing or electricity. Rats made nests in the roof so when you woke up into the flickering darkness from a dream of ancient enemy skins hanging by the fire, you could hear them running along the rafters over your head. You could see their shadows on the thatched roof when the candle light caught them. Sleep again became a refuge along with a short prayer for the balance of rats. We finally boarded a freighter, in Padang, the cheapest way to travel from Sumatra to Java. The beginning of our sea voyage was normal. We watched the port, then the island of Sumatra fade into the distance behind us and with it, the confusion and brain fever. Deck space, a place to sleep beneath the canvas strung across the deck for protection from the sun and rain, was what we paid for. Two big, deeply tanned Aussies who were obviously used to the sea and travelling by sea, probably lived by the sea, told us they had accompanied fishermen from an island near Bali on an early morning trip. They witnessed, then tried, the eating of the raw hearts of the fish they caught. They found it to be a life giving experience with aphrodisiac powers. Meals were cooked in the tiny galley below deck; a green vegetable which had obviously been boiled, over a bed of rice, on a tin plate. Tasteless but necessary to settle the queasy stomachs everyone felt The sea looked calm enough. But a rhythmic sway began to get to everyone. Coconut oil smoke made it worse. Even the regular crew and the Aussies were hit by sea sickness. They laughed and made wise cracks between spews. The rest of us weren’t so lighthearted about it. Soon there were travellers and crew members staggering to the rail to vomit over the side. The unwary ones stood downwind from others puking over the side near the front, got splashed. One grain of rice, well soaked in the stomach’s digestive juices, inadvertently snorted while vomiting, causes untold misery in the nasal passage and a long lasting, unpleasant reminder of how sick you really were. Finally, that particular movement of the ship passed and so did the seasickness. The travellers and crew wobbled about unsteadily for a while, then settled down. No one offered the travellers rice after that. Our diet became the fruit we had brought on board with us. We settled down on the deck, tried to sleep through the hot days and windy nights. Serge from France, tanned dark brown, curly hair down past his shoulders, wispy goatee, regained his happy smile as he recovered from the seasickness. He wore a sarong like a native, always carried a flute attached to his backpack. Everyone commiserated with him when we found out he was on his way back to France to fulfill his military obligations. He had been drafted. These were his last few days of freedom. He had made his choice. He was tempted to keep travelling, but he knew that eventually he’d want to return to France. The army was one step above jail. He couldn’t go back on the run. He was a proud Frenchman, but that had nothing to do with the government’s army. His ideas and life were far from conformity, uniformity, the military. One night, in a Tull like performance, he started playing. Under the canvas, starry night above, the sea breeze blowing his hair in time with the tempo of his song, Serge captivated everyone. All the travellers stopped talking or sat up to look and listen, even some crew members, smoking by the dark rail, paid attention. He started in the familiar pose which we had all adopted... leaning, laying back against our packs and bedrolls, then he seemed to find something as he played the first few, hesitant notes. He stood up, still playing. His flute came alive. His song gained and lost volume and speed as he breathed life into it. It wasn’t recorded, probably forgotten even by Serge, a few days later. There was the soft soughing of the ship as it made its way through the water, the sea breeze in the wires, occasionally something would flap in the southern night wind. The notes of Serge’s flute seemed to linger and then be snatched away by the other sounds. His eyes closed, Serge stood and played to the night, to his humble companions, listened to the sounds around him and echoed them. He didn’t stand on one leg, but he carried us all away as he talked to the wind in its own language. Selamat Jalan...Good Journey. A fitting Indonesian goodbye to Sumatra. Then someone told us that we were passing Krakatau which erupted in 1883 killing thousands of people. It was just a lump on the horizon from the deck of the ship. A famous volcano which the world knew about because of the tragedy. Later that day, we landed in Djakarta.

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37. Say Cheese! Original watercolor made to order

Cheese, cheese, makes you sneeze
Hang it on your washing line
Rub it on your knees

Original Art (and poem) by me!
Special Offer £24.99 Post Free
Pen and Ink and Watercolour
Size is 6" x 4" in 10" x 8" White Mount
Will be created especially for you. Each one will differ slightly.
Use the Paypal button below to purchase!

original children's illustration for sale
Original Art. £24.99 Post Free





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38. Shakespeare and performance: the 16th century to today [infographic]

In the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, Shakespeare's plays were performed at professional playhouses such as the Globe and the Rose, as well as at the Inns of Court, the houses of noblemen, and at the Queen's palace. In fact, the playing company The Queen's Men was formed at the express command of Elizabeth I to [...]

The post Shakespeare and performance: the 16th century to today [infographic] appeared first on OUPblog.

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39. It’s a Boy! Share your Joy!

We have been on pins and needles over here at Two Writing Teachers as Stacey’s due date approached. We have all been anxiously checking our email and text messages for news. Today we… Continue reading

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40. Thoughts on the New TV Season, 2016 Edition

This week has seen the first inklings of the new TV season, as the US networks start trotting out shows in the hopes of success, legitimacy, or even the tiniest bit of attention.  And yet here I am, still talking about some of the shows of summer.  This is partly because, as we've all more or less accepted, network shows just aren't where it's at anymore, and there isn't that much to say about

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41. You Can Find Us at #TheEdCollab Gathering Today

Beth, Dana, and Deb will be live at 1:00 EST today

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42. The Anatomy of a Backpack

Anatomy of a Backpack

Remember shopping for school supplies? You combed the store aisle to pick out the perfect binder. You couldn’t wait to crack open that brand new box of crayons.

Getting ready for school is a lot more than checking items off of a list. It’s a rite of passage. Fresh markers, pencils, and notebooks get kids excited about learning. Compared to used or donated supplies, brand new items match the excitement of a new school year and new possibilities. When they have the tools they need, kids go to school with confidence.

If you serve kids in need, you can help instill that confidence with new supplies from the First Book Marketplace. There is more to a backpack than meets the eye — it’s not just textbooks, paper, and pencils. The anatomy of a backpack includes items like calculators, for when students run out of fingers and toes to count. It includes gluesticks, because sometimes tape just doesn’t do the trick. It includes highlighters, so students can learn how to focus on key parts of what they’re reading.

When many students’ backpacks are put on the examining table it becomes clear that some things are missing from their anatomy. Maybe they have fresh paper, but nothing to write with. Perhaps they have pencils, markers and paper, but no backpack to put them in. The First Book Marketplace offers educators and program leaders the opportunity to help fill a child’s backpack with what they need.

And if it’s the backpack itself that they need, First Book has those too.

 

Please visit the supplies section of the First Book Marketplace to find more items that make up the anatomy of a backpack.

The post The Anatomy of a Backpack appeared first on First Book Blog.

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43. Presidential Polar Bear Post Card Project No. 238 - 9.22.16


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44. Presidential Polar Bear Post Card Project No. 239 - 9.23.16


These two marine mammals would never meet in the wild, but today the Honorable Senator Bill Nelson (FL) became the 37th member of the Senate to sign to a Bill to protect the Arctic Refuge on Alaska's coastal plain. Manatees and polar bears. #wearethearctic

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45. The strange case of the missing non-existent objects

Alexius Meinong (1853-1920) was an Austrian psychologist and systematic philosopher working in Graz around the turn of the 20th century. Part of his work was to put forward a sophisticated analysis of the content of thought. A notable aspect of this was as follows. If you are thinking of the Taj Mahal, you are thinking of something, and that something exists.

The post The strange case of the missing non-existent objects appeared first on OUPblog.

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46. Alcatraz versus the Shattered Lens

Alcatraz Versus the Shattered Lens. Brandon Sanderson. 2010. Scholastic. 294 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: So there I was, holding a pink teddy bear in my hand.

Premise/plot: The fourth book in the Alcatraz fantasy series for children. Is Alcatraz brave or stupid in this one? He insists that bravery and stupidity are essentially the same. The free kingdom of Mokia is in danger of falling. Their capital city seems doomed to fall within days...if not hours. The royal family has been evacuated, so we're told, and unless a famous person whose life is so very, very, very valuable is there to be saved, no knights or soldiers will be endangered or sacrificed recklessly. Alcatraz's scheme? To go to Mokia so that the KNIGHTS will go to Mokia. Once he arrives, he learns, well, that would be SPOILERS. But he learns that he isn't the only person with Smedry blood to be stupid or brave. Bastille is along for this adventure....Kaz as well.

The new character introduced in this one is Aydee, and, her talent is being BAD AT MATH.

My thoughts: This one is definitely the best of the series perhaps. Or rereading all four books within two weeks has made me care so very much about these characters?! Either way, I recommend the series.

This book left so many unanswered questions. I had almost come to terms with having no true answers...when I learned that the fifth book will be released this year. So after years, I can finally know what happens next!

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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47. निकला


हर एक शब्द उसका तीर सा निकला,  
फूलों का वो हार, ज़ंज़ीर सा निकला 

वक़्त का खेल होता है बहुत निराला. 
कमज़ोर था जो, शमशीर सा निकला, 

ग़लतफहमी का तोहफा देने चला था,
खुशियों का पिटारा फकीर सा निकला  

समझा कहाँ उसने, दिल का अफ़साना,
दावा वो पत्थर की लकीर सा निकला 

तड़पने के बाद भी, गले से लगाया, 
                दोस्त वो मेरा 'साथी', पीर सा निकला || Dr. DV ||

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48. वोट किसे दे

वोट किसे दे एक यक्ष प्रश्न है क्योकि कहने को सभी मेहनती, ईमानदार, हमारे अपने हैं पर हकीकत से कोसो दूर .. ऐसे मे पहचानना मुश्किल है कि  किसे वोट दिया जाए … कौन है सही उम्मीदवार वोट किसे दे कौन है सही उम्मीदवार … अभी थोडी देर पहले मणि बहुत गुस्से में घर पर […]

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49. A History of my Archive in 10 Objects. No.1: Sketch from the back garden of Butlers Lane, 1976

For the first in the Museum of My Archive in 10 Objects  (apologies to Neil MacGregor and the British Museum) I bring you a sketch of our house, drawn just before my 17th birthday from our back garden during the sweltering summer of 1976.

23 Butler's Lane from the Back Garden Rotring pen and Winsor & Newton ink on paper, June 1976.

We lived in Butlers Lane, Sutton Coldfield from 1970 until the end of 1977,  this was the house where I grew from child to teenager.

It was a corner house and significantly bigger than any of our previous (and subsequent!) homes. My parents bought it for a bargain, it hadn't been altered since it was built in the 1920's and was in desperate need of complete modernisation, much of which my dad did himself. I still have clear memories of when we moved in - there were slate fossils of ammonites and other pre-historic sea life left in the kitchen from the previous owner, also a big, black cast iron built in range, and in one of the bedroom cupboards an old clockwork railway set. All were disposed of very quickly in the urgency to fix up the house, much to my regret!

The reason this is the first in my History is because this house is where it all started, this is where I really embraced a love of history and of art, where I began drawing in earnest. I've more fond memories of this house than any other.

One of the best things about it was the long extended back garden, which had two large trees and several smaller ones (not visible in this drawing), a rock garden and an allotment at the bottom, which my grandfather cultivated when he later moved in with us. I shared a bedroom with my brother (on the whole amicably), on my side of the room my dad built a study alcove which we were supposed to use for homework, but which I actually used mainly to paint Napoleonic soldiers. Airfix model aeroplanes hung from the ceiling in an eternal dogfight. On my brother's side of the room was a large cardboard cut-out of Marc Bolan, Roger Dean posters and a fur trimmed record player. We gone on okey. My sister always had her own room, bedecked with posters of Black Sabbath and David Bowie. The house was easy walking distance to school and local shops at Mere Green, a bike ride from Sutton Park, and just a couple of minutes walk from Butlers Lane train station, which gave us access to Sutton Coldfield and Birmingham. In the summer I'd cycle the opposite direction along country lanes out towards Lichfield.

From this distance in time it seems a pretty well perfect place to have grown up. I loved this house.

This wasn't the first time I'd drawn it, nor would it be the last, but this particular image seems to me to sum up a perfect summer at one of the happiest and most carefree times of my life.

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50. Large Book Advances

Even if you're one of the very few who gets a six-figure book deal, you might want to keep your day job.  


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