Who knew beard trimmers were quite so fierce? All I wanted to do was tame some of the bulk, but I now have the haircut of a small boy who wouldn’t sit still for his mother’s blunt scissors?
Unfortunately, in place of a cute, glowing, sharp-jawed face, I have the face I deserve. My only hope is that the weather turns icy, so I can wear a balaclava for the next few months.
In other news, my procrastinating is thriving like black mould in a damp basement flat a young mother is trying, desperately, to make habitable.
The header image is a photo of the breast pocket of my favourite white linen shirt. Yep, I’ve taken up embroidery.
In my defense I was asked to contribute to a big, collaborative art project responding to the precarity the BAME community in the United States have constantly to live with. As a member of that community, but in a lovely, safe (for the most part) country, I couldn’t say no, even though I didn’t have a flipping clue how to embroider words. So I’ve been spending my days watching ‘how to’ videos, and trying to copy them. I’ve also cut up a number of skirts to use as practice panels, including a rather lovely pink silk Marc Jacobs number, and the skirt I wore to my son’s graduation. But I knew, now I find heels too absurd for my lifestyle, I’d never wear them again.
I’ll tell you more about the art project once I’ve finished my piece, which, all going to plan, should be in the next day or two.