![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blamebramptonMy favourite thing about lj is my brilliant and talented f-list. Allow me to show you some of its cleverness.
The lovelyleochi, whose work reminds me of nothing so much as the illustrations for the nice quality children's novels I would receive for birthdays (Quentin Blake illustrated the naughty ones), has drawn a prompt from me in her 50 Gazes series. I asked for a joyous gaze between Harry and McGonagall, because I love Minerva's fierce affection for all of her Gryffindors. This was the result. It's a perfect young Harry and his mentor after the first of the Goblet of Fire trials. Tartan and happiness – just delightful.
Not satisfied with working on one series at a time, she also produced a set of three tarot cards for hp_tarot. They are brooding, dramatic and technically assured. She is as home with this more adult style of art as with the illustrative book form, wholly lovely stuff.
One of my flisters who particularly evokes the word brilliant iswemyss, a man who never fails to make me think even when I am coming at the issues under discussion from the opposite direction. He has posted an enormously funny take on my recent rantings about readers who wish to be spoon-fed. You can find it here and, while you may need to be English to fully appreciate it, it contains the most magnificent description of Slough that it has ever been my privilege and pleasure to read.
And, Bubba, akaeynhashofet, suggests that the answer to yesterday's question may well be Anais Nin. Let's assume it is, research will continue when time allows. Thanks, too, for the walks through musical memory lane!
Tonight we had another spot of the excitement that only comes from living in a thriving and vibrant part of the inner city (read gentrified former slum with expensive delicatessens 50 metres away, but housing estates just up the road).
We returned from our evening constitutional a short time ago to find papers scattered about the bottom of the lane. This is not an uncommon sight in these parts, and the reason our little cottage has an assault course in front of every access point (we make people WORK to burgle us, it's been an effective deterrent so far). We stopped and collected a pile of papers, then looked in nearby shrubs to find keys, laptop charger and headphones, and a jacket and a bigger pile of forms, which were all for a volleyball team.
After sending J back with the torch I sat down and did a spot of internet detecting and found the owner of the papers (head of the volleyball team) lived five minutes' walk away. I had popped everything into a bag and we were about to go for a walk to deliver them, when we opened the door to find a young man wandering about crankily. "You'd be Mr Stuff," I said. "We have some of your less valuable stuff."
He seemed happy to get the bundle we had found back, and has learned a valuable lesson about what can and cannot be left in a car in the inner city. He is also obviously not poor and had his laptop backed up onto his USB key, which was on the keychain, so not a terrible result.
The lovely
leochi, whose work reminds me of nothing so much as the illustrations for the nice quality children's novels I would receive for birthdays (Quentin Blake illustrated the naughty ones), has drawn a prompt from me in her 50 Gazes series. I asked for a joyous gaze between Harry and McGonagall, because I love Minerva's fierce affection for all of her Gryffindors. This was the result. It's a perfect young Harry and his mentor after the first of the Goblet of Fire trials. Tartan and happiness – just delightful.Not satisfied with working on one series at a time, she also produced a set of three tarot cards for hp_tarot. They are brooding, dramatic and technically assured. She is as home with this more adult style of art as with the illustrative book form, wholly lovely stuff.
One of my flisters who particularly evokes the word brilliant is
wemyss, a man who never fails to make me think even when I am coming at the issues under discussion from the opposite direction. He has posted an enormously funny take on my recent rantings about readers who wish to be spoon-fed. You can find it here and, while you may need to be English to fully appreciate it, it contains the most magnificent description of Slough that it has ever been my privilege and pleasure to read.And, Bubba, aka
eynhashofet, suggests that the answer to yesterday's question may well be Anais Nin. Let's assume it is, research will continue when time allows. Thanks, too, for the walks through musical memory lane!Tonight we had another spot of the excitement that only comes from living in a thriving and vibrant part of the inner city (read gentrified former slum with expensive delicatessens 50 metres away, but housing estates just up the road).
We returned from our evening constitutional a short time ago to find papers scattered about the bottom of the lane. This is not an uncommon sight in these parts, and the reason our little cottage has an assault course in front of every access point (we make people WORK to burgle us, it's been an effective deterrent so far). We stopped and collected a pile of papers, then looked in nearby shrubs to find keys, laptop charger and headphones, and a jacket and a bigger pile of forms, which were all for a volleyball team.
After sending J back with the torch I sat down and did a spot of internet detecting and found the owner of the papers (head of the volleyball team) lived five minutes' walk away. I had popped everything into a bag and we were about to go for a walk to deliver them, when we opened the door to find a young man wandering about crankily. "You'd be Mr Stuff," I said. "We have some of your less valuable stuff."
He seemed happy to get the bundle we had found back, and has learned a valuable lesson about what can and cannot be left in a car in the inner city. He is also obviously not poor and had his laptop backed up onto his USB key, which was on the keychain, so not a terrible result.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 02:53 pm (UTC)Dunedin is even better than ChCh in that regard. Due to the 'student' population it attracts, you can actually walk along North Dunedin and most of town without getting attacked/hurt.. as long as you know how to avoid certain crowds
I am suprised about the bus thing. Is it rare to not let your children to do so, or are these chldren young? And a steep hill in ChCh? May I ask as to what suburb they are in?
If you like a lot of scenery, NZ is excellent for it. I agree with Christchurch being lovely- it was a very English feel to it and being in Lytellton and Aakaroa was very good. However I actually prefer Dunedin as it has some excellent Scottish heritage to it and the architecture is also very good.
The North Island is excellent in getting a sense of the Maori heritage and still has some scenery wonders... if you stand the smell of mud pools..
Seriously there are wonderful parts in it.
Ironically, I have a crush on Melbourne :-) Never been there but have heard some good things about it. Went to Sydney about 10 years ago.
And yay for giving papers back :-)
*heads back to lurking*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 03:03 pm (UTC)Sadly, Dunedin, like the entirety of Estonia, is one of those places that sees the universe thwart me every time I plan to visit. I may make it next February, when I will be in Christchurch for a week or two.
Kids jumping on the bus alone seems normal in most of NZ, but is unusual in Australia and pretty much unthinkable in a lot of England these days. I would not jump on a bus alone in the US and I am over 40. Well, that's a fib, but I sit on them looking about me suspiciously and with a hand on a knitting needle in my handbag.
NZ kids seem to be having proper childhoods still, the sort that we had in England in the 60s and 70s, and which my partner had in northern New South Wales around the same time. They are dying out elsewhere.
My friends are in Redcliff (or cliffs), a little out of town, along the estuary. They live up the hill that forms the ridge separating the city from the old port on the other side of the peninsula. It is SO beautiful. Though you're right about the Englishness, I was coming down with flu once and we stopped the car to sit in a ditch beside the road while I breathed fresh air, I started to laugh -- every plant and animal I could see was an English import, even down to the valerian and ditch grasses.
I do like Auckland and Welly very much, but the south is prettier, and I WILL make it to Dunedin!
Melbourne is lovely! And Sydney has a lot to recommend it once you get past the petty thieves. Do pop out from lurking more often!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 03:26 pm (UTC)The bus thing suprised me; I have family both in ChCh and Dunedin, but actually lived halfway between the two cities in Timaru. Despite this, I spent about a 1/4 of my life in ChCh and 1/2 in Dunedin. The only place I stay neutral in is the rugby :-P.
I can distinctly remember as a young child using the bus system in all three cities alone. However I do remember my mother freaking out at me when we were in a Sydney mall and I went to the toilets on my own.. I was ten. (12 years ago). I admit, compared to friends I have in other countries, NZ is still safe to wander around in. We must be behind the other countries, if it were childhoods in the 60s and 70s :-)
Redcliffs is beautiful! I loved that suburb in Christchurch. Wow, I never knew we were that English down to the valerian and ditch grasses :-) I'm suprised there is no accent.
Dunedin is lovely if you love history, architecture and scenery. Its breath-taking at night, alot like Wellington in that regard. Very cold though, usual temperature in winter is around 4-5 degrees celsuis.
Sydney was excellent and I enjoyed the trip :-)