One of the ways I cheer myself up and get my energy flowing is to dance. Yup. All by myself, groovin' away in my studio most afternoons, CBC Radio 2's Drive cranked up whenever a good tune comes on. I find having some good loud music playing also helps me attack whatever painting I'm working on. But if something with an irresistible groove comes on, I just have to lay down the paint brush and take to the "dance floor." Dancing has been an outlet for me most of my life, starting dance classes at age 3. For a time, I was a dancer on stages in front of audiences. Nothing big, but enough to feed my passion, if not to put food on my table.
Here's a newspaper clipping of moi, many many moons ago, that I touched up to fit with the lyrics of a song I rocked out to in my studio this afternoon ("rocking out" being a relative term these days).
"Oh baby blue oh baby blue
come here I'm gonna smear another colour over you
get out of bed you little sleepy head your black
and white needs a little bit of red
your black and white needs a little bit of red."
A pared-down version, but nice and raw.
Turn up the volume!
My father-in-law recently emailed us photos that he had scanned into his computer. I took two of them, combined them with a postcard download from
DJ Pettit's "Memories and Manipulations" Photoshop workshop I'm presently engaged in, applied different bells and whistles, et voilà, someone else's memories manipulated. Please note, however, that I did not augment the quantity of bottles on the table!
Here's the original to prove it
(that's 100-proof, by the way).
Now if you'll excuse me, I suddenly have an inexplicable urge to dash off and do some yodelling.
Has everyone got all their Christmas shopping done?
Eating on the run?
Shopping cart loaded with goodies?
Or are you ready to be carted away?
Just in case you're wondering, this is a photo I took during my art school days, circa 1976, one early morning with my then soon-to-be ex boyfriend. I can't remember how/when/where/why we got the shopping cart but there must have been some forethought to the set-up as the lad was equipped with a bowl and a porcelain spoon. Perhaps I was thinking "Déjeuner sur l'herbe" but there was neige (yes, in Vancouver) rather than herbe and we may have just happened to stumble across a run-away cart. (note: boy friend literally stumbling as just arriving from one of his frequent all-nighters somewhere; hence, "soon-to-be-ex". But that particular load of history has long ago been carted off to the Useless Memories Dump, located just off Really Old Memories Lane, along with a lot of Christmas tinsel.)
We interrupt this blog to bring you a bonus illustration, generously suggested by FCW (that's a Fart in the Cosmic Wind for those of you who haven't caught a whiff of his blog before) who sent me a link to a (White) Spot of nostalgia that beautifully illustrates the drive-in I mentioned in the post below (see: "Movin' On").
The folks here at Décolleté (well, me) have also thoughtfully provided a video of the tune "Beep beep!" where you can view some pretty sweet little Nash Ramblers and join in the singing with Margaret over atMargaret Panpipes, who knows all the words to the chorus.
Happy Days, indeed. At least for a kid like me who enjoyed riding around in the back seat of her parents' car, going to the drive-in restaurant for supper, and listening to goofy pop songs on the radio.
I hope my little self-indulgent trip down Memory Lane will not make too many of you younger folk out there, such as my dear blog pal the Sagittarian, or my adoptive baby brother Owen, feel that their childhoods were deprived in any way!
And here's a family photo, taken round about this time. I'm sitting on my grandmother's lap (note my poodle skirt! My saddle shoes, alas, had already worn out), my great-grandfather sits behind us, my dad sits in the centre of the picture (note his cool jacket with the leather sleeves), my mother (note the bright red lipstick and long hair pulled back in a braid) holds my relatively new baby sister on her lap, while my great-grandmother sports a jaunty neckerchief. My grandfather is behind the camera.
I'm not much into cars but I was quite taken with this little number. It reminds me of one of my all-time favourite automobiles, the Nash Rambler. "Beep beep! Beep beep! It's horn went beep beep beep!" Anyone other than me remember that golden oldie? My family used to go for burgers at the then drive-in A&W, as opposed to the now drive-thru. It seemed so exotic to have a waitress roller skate out to the car bearing small trays laden with fat-loaded foods. The little trays were hooked to the edge of the side windows, outside the car. The windows had to be rolled to just the right height.
At another burger place, the White Spot, long metallic trays were inserted across the whole interior width of the car, from driver's window to passenger's, and hooked into the sill. It was a bit like eating from a trough, though.
After this fine dining experience, we would often "go for a spin" in the car, usually with me standing up in the back, leaning over the front seat for a better view, while my dad twiddled the radio dial and my mum smoked a Black Cat cigarette.
I thought it was high time for some Canadian content and some female energy on Song Saturday so here's a tune from someone, Amelia Curran, I heard on the radio recently. I believe she's from Newfoundland. It's a sweet video, too.
*
A special shout out to Robert who's feeling a bit size-challenged lately in his efforts
Here's a retro shot. One of my 2nd year art school courses was photography. I had a 35 mm Konica and took black and white pictures only. I had the whole kit & caboodle to develop my film. It was a tricky business of mixing the right ratio of chemicals, winding the unexposed film onto a spindle, fitting it all into a magic canister, and shaking it all up for a specified amount of seconds. This was done while shut away in a pitch black chamber the size of a broom closet. Not my favourite part of the process, being slightly claustrophobic. I must have been particularly anxious on the day I developed this film as it came out exceedingly grainy. Given the subject of the picture, though, I thought the (unintentional) effect added to the atmosphere.
A favourite album of mine during this time was by Jeff Beck. It's one of the few records I still have stashed up in the attic (but am too lazy to go to the top of the house right now to check the title). This tune isn't on the album but it's suitably short for a blog posting and one that I really like. I thought this picture would go well with the song's title, "Drown in my own Tears."
