Just back from seeing Filth. Its a little weird seeing your home city on the big screen. I kept on thinking that I recognised a bar or a place then got really annoyed when an obviously Glaswegian tenement had been used in one shot. The holga above is of the Point Hotel in Bread St where I once went to birthday drinks with the friend I saw the film with and John Sessions (who is in Filth) was also in the bar.
I happen to think that crochet does make you live happilly…
I’m taking the promt from the post by Chris Guillebeau’s social experiement in seeing what would happen if people offered something for free. So if anyone wants to learn crochet in Edinburgh on Sat 23rd I’ll be in Lovecrumbs at 1pm and I can teach you how to crochet a Grannie Square. Learning to crochet a grannie square is like reaching crochet nirvana. If you are not able to make sat drop into Grannie Greens 6-8pm next monday in the Red Squirrel on Lothian Road. I’ll be there and a crochet tutorial can be arranged.
Let me know if you are coming leave a comment or email me fatblackcatindustries AT gmail dot com so I can bring enough yarn.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” Marcel Proust
But I confess I love travel to see new things.. well generally but my last trip has me return with a stinking cold, losing my purse and mobile phone due to tiredness. I’m grumpy and ill. I cannot wait for January to depart. Time to make another cup of tea.
Actually I’ve been feeling my inner artist has been in exile for a while… I need to noodle it a bit go on adventures. Hopefully I’ll be skipping around London taking in new sights by the time this is posted.
Pictures from a Glaswegian adventure last November.
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Leith Links in the snow – Lubitel
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death. Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead in winter
and later proves to be alive.
- Pablo Neruda, translated by Alstair Reid