and the theme for day is....

sing sing what will i sing

OMG.  I can't see a thing without my glasses, can't function without medication and i need to keep my feet warm at all times. and exercise. they, no idea who they are, say i should give up smoking, follow this morning exercise and stretch routine and walk     10,000 steps per day. 

WELL I GAVE UP SMOKING!

                             
we are swamped with all this advice to delay getting old.                         
I am not sure who decided on this 10,00 steps per day.  it's a bit like the 8 glasses of water per day.  do the daily crossword and word puzzles and you won't go too la la.  join a gym. get a personal trainer. tho Michael has recently done just this, spends 3 days a week pumping iron, swimming and paying through his nose and says he never felt better. but he is poorer.

I have found that getting up in the mornings is best if you decide on a theme song for the day. without looking at the weather paying any attention to what the weather man on the radio is bleating about.

with a tune in your head you can whizz through the prescribed exercise routines in a matter of seconds. well minutes. time will fly.

it is good if you choose an old pop song because no one remembers the words correctly including yourself.  today i have decided on songs about clothing.  Mmmm! i hear you say. but the imagination can get carried away especially if you choose something like  the itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini to start with. 

as i waltz along the beach yellow spotting it is time for a trip down memory lane.  my friend Sue and I were visiting my family one holiday. after visiting my sister in a house perched up in the cliff side suburb we had to sprint down an almost vertical slope to the town's bus stop. in our high heels. singing yes you guessed.... thanks to Bobby Darrin. did we make it to the bus on time?  no idea. but i remember i broke the heel on one of my shoes. my black suede shoes. 

which lets the memories morph into the next song. BLUE suede shoes. from the king. Elvis himself. it has a great rhythm.  and once upon a time i was in love with a very NICE boy who actually owned BLUE SUEDE SHOES!   but mother kept saying what a NICE lad he was. it's a bit of a turn off isn't it.   but i have never met another blue suede shoer. and this is the blue suede NICE lad with an innocent me.

the lad on the right was another NICE lad.  according to my mother.  and he actually owned a WHITE SPORTS COAT.  so you see how easy it is to fill your head with music and memory while attempting the 10,000 steps required by who knows who. 

now you can see how creative you can get with all these memories bouncing along to the chosen rhythm.  hopefully while so attired i avoid meeting any regulars.  when its time to turn back down the track i have morphed back to footwear. yes.  these boots are made for walking.  God bless Nancy Sinatra. and one can pound out the envy for Julia Roberts legs that reached her armpits in Pretty Woman. but once i did wear boots like this. with a purple mini skirt. pushing an English pram.  and my mother certainly did not think such a short skirt was nice. particularly on a young mother.

so home again home again jiggy de jog.  and the reality is i probably looked like this because it has been cold and wet for a week or so. and you sure need a tune or two in your head to get going this weather.

 

silence is golden

the theatre

well on tuesday, seniors el cheapo day, i went to the movies with a friend. last cab to Darwin. don't go. it's a shocker.  a cliched piece of shit really. but a good opportunity for our ageing actors to have an airing. if jacki weaver has another face lift her eyebrows will disappear behind her hair line. and our indigenous people should be protesting in the aisles. ah well. along we went with 101 other oldies into cinema ONE.

the wheel chairs sat up the back.  the walking frames needed aisle seats. as did the walking stick brigade. right now you can tell this is a bunch of oldies. hardly a dyed head amongst the whites and greys! we sat there and ate our ice creams, our popcorn, and our lollies. still no movie appeared. so we chatted and hummed. the silent generation. my eldest daughter, who had just been to a national conference on the oldies, told me a couple of years ago i would be no trouble in my old age. i was part of the silent generation. see my essay  for my take on this silent generation on   dyingisanartancientandreal.blogspot.com.au

finally a young boy burst in waving his hands with an oooh dahhhlings.  no movie yet.  i'll soon fix that.  well he did. twenty minutes later.  and still we sat. silent. no one complained or asked for a refund. but they, the unknown they, did have the grace to skip those noisy adds and previews.

and so we watched it. the last cab to Darwin. all the way through without a murmur. good acting but crap story. i must admit as soon as it was over i dashed forth quickly to avoid seeing anyone i knew.  i was amazed to find the world sunny and warm as it seemed such an age to have been locked away. 

on thursday my friend jenny took me and another friend to the Sydney contemporary ballet at our very own fabulous Theatre Royal. in the dress circle. jenny says its like sitting inside your very own Faberge easter egg!

Theatre Royal!

i love it that people in  Hobart get their glad rags out for an airing.  and stand around in the crowded foyers sipping champagne.  and nodding to the plebs. one lady who is one of our monied, and i mean monied philanthropists, had the most wonderful scarlet boots on and i am sure these were not bought in Hobart!  her husband's hair, white and brittle, was teased out into a halo around his bald spot. like garth murphy's hair in the 70s.  and his bow tie was scarlet to match the lady's boots. yummo. it must have taken them a good hour or two just to get their makeup right. but they do throw good money towards things that make life in Hobart exciting. like the following.

Detached Cultural Organisation - Art, Science, Health

A new creative hub breathes life into old Mercury building | The ...

1. 
   

i thought i would be anonymous but i was hailed from every angle by past lord mayors, parliamentarians, important people and the bald headed phillip whatshisname.  many years ago i had to work with this geyser when he was undertaking sperm extraction to impregnate his new woman. he was attending the ballet with his 16 year old twin daughters! and SCARLET lipstick abounded. along with the glad rags.  there's a new colour out called BOLD  with instructions of how to apply to withering lips.

well the ballet went off with a bang.  and the most exciting segment was called CACTI.   a touch of brilliance. so many young talented and energetic young people making their way through. it was an amazing experience. nothing silent about the mixed generations who enjoyed this performance. hand clapping, feet stamping and whistling told me i was a long way from CINEMA ONE.
De Novo | Sydney Dance Company


right apart from all that there has been some gardening and studio time going on. brassicas are planted out along with lettuces in the snow. and the solid shapes are growing watched over by those silent women.

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you can look forward to a practical post soon!

the vanishing woman

 it all started when i was overlooked in the doctors' waiting room for the second time that week. 

i suddenly felt i had become invisible. fading. vanishing sort of thing. Mmmm.

let's face it. when you reach your mid seventies you more or less have to end up at the doctors occasionally.  and if you are one of the lucky ones you have known your doctor for years.

when a screaming baby, an injured teenager and a demanding young girlie in a business suit take precedence, the chairs in the waiting room become hard.  the floor is a better option.  

so when the new girlie at the desk lost site of me my doctor suddenly remembered we had an appointment with the surgeon and the specialist and goes oooh!.  i was in no frame of mind to discuss my body with anyone by then so i picked up my keys and left.  

like when i was in myers the other day trying to buy a pair of flashy skinny jeans.  o.k so i was in the Miss shop and all the other customers were 1/5 my age!! after 20 minutes fading into the background of life sort of thing was the only option.

i started to fill  the studio wall with images of this woman who apparently was vanishing into thin air at times.  some work. some don't.

then i really started to object to becoming transparent just because i was getting old. so i have started to sing on my daily walk. the distance prescribed by the do gooders. a different song every day.  this week it's she wore an itsy bitsy  teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.

no i won't inflict a self portrait of the body in the bikini.  not today anyway. 

 i am into drawing solid subjects this week.  with very large solid women.  bigger and bolder than the world around them.  you can just get a glimpse of her here. ignore the dates on the photos. i can't fix the date on the camera try as i might.  

well it is snowing here in Tasmania.  thought i better give tasmania a capital letter to match the tagging.  but the dog still needs a little afternoon walk not to mention the vanishing body.  i am sure more exciting things will happen next week.