Makeshift

My tights have pale pink paint patches splattered upon them, my bathroom floor has pale pink paint splashes. My silkscreen is leaning against the shower to dry. It looks like a strawberry milkshake took its last breath in there. Assessment is over, I feel like I can play again, hence why my bathroom has turned into a makeshift printroom, having a mess around with stencils again, and not having to abide with the ridiculously stringent law of the land in the Goldsmiths print room, though I could do with some of that amazingly lemony scented hand scrub in there. Speaking of which, I found a very handy bottle of Vaseline hand lotion on the tube today. London is full of surprises. Went back to the Barbican to see the birds, they were so soothing, until they started nibbling at my boots and landing on my handbag, it was both enchanting and disheartening, for surely the implication was I smelt of birdseed.

(prints of the birds. naturally)

Ice cream was to be had in a beautiful little park in Islington, via our return from Cass Art (I think thats what the big hole in my budget pretty much constitutes) and my optimism regarding the weather was rewarded when the sunglasses came out to play. It was just a shame the gathering pigeons couldn't live up to the reputation of the zebra finches, especially the adorable one that fell asleep on the fretboard. Pigeons and crumbs just don't cut it, no matter how good the Natalie Imbruglia song may or may not be (of course I'm inclined to think it may...)

Other exhibitions of the weekend included Michelangelo's Dream, Bill Fontana's River Sounding (that was pretty stunning to be honest) in the subterranean of Somerset House. It was so easy to get lost in the noise, and the various underground caverns. Had a nose in the photographer's gallery amongst some H&M and Muji purchases, where there was a graduate show on, 'freshfaceandwildeyes2010'. These were the names that stood out to me, Clarisse d'Arcimoles, Ben Elwes and Daniel Simcox. The subject matter is very close to some of my interests this year, recreating the past, uncovering forgotten archives, forgotten memories, or, as always, I just really liked the aesthetic. Though my tutor wants to kill me every time I use this as a basis for anything. Meh.

Braved the Tate Modern during its tenth birthday. It was a bit manic. All we really wanted to do was take advantage of the members room and sit on the balcony overlooking the Thames. That we did, and I may have stolen a bit of my friend's cream and jam laden scone.

So that was my Monday and my weekend. Although I forgot to mention the Martha Stewart enthused domestic rampage that I underwent yesterday. Washing up blitzed, one roast dinner, one apple crumble and 22 cupcakes (with varying gradients of pink icing and sprinkles). Basically I'm trying to keep busy. And now I need to stop listening to Natalie Imbruglia.

I also need a scanner.