tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262529082011-07-08T05:37:53.500+01:00Musings and rantings on art and life. And some prose and pictures and stuff.Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.comBlogger3931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-83106891371115164722010-05-03T10:44:00.005+01:002010-05-03T11:02:33.663+01:00

Hello, you've found me through my Blogger account :) I'm not blogging here anymore though so please follow the link below. Come on over, it would be lovely to meet you!My Blog is now at:http://www.narrativeself.comYou can also find me here:My fine art website: http://www.stephanieboon.co.ukDaily nonsense on Twitter : http://twitter.com/NarrativeSelfFacebook: stephanie.boon

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-44650833007736851502008-11-12T11:02:00.003Z2008-11-12T11:06:59.277Z

This blog is being migrated to:www.narrativeself.comcome on over!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-66078875130103942482008-05-05T15:01:00.003+01:002008-05-05T15:03:29.763+01:00

When I moved in, I didn't realise I'd be cleaning cow slobber off the windows!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-5501660800244393002008-04-06T22:16:00.015+01:002008-04-06T23:03:22.246+01:00

Back down at the Exchange gallery on this cold and windy day, I decided to do a 'warm up' drawing of the lovely Chantal Brooks, whilst she was busy being bored to death by the Penzance town nutter (not me honest!). As you can tell from the look of chagrin on her face, his three or four hours of scintillating company was not appreciated. Not sure this drawing was either, but hey, it was just a

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-88099990603181823982008-04-04T15:23:00.005+01:002008-04-04T15:40:41.224+01:00

Kim's still on his school break , so we decided to do a bit of seal spotting on the north Cornish coast earlier this week. It was a grey, blustery day over at Gwithian but we were well rewarded for our little effort of getting to the top of the cliffs, where we saw around 50 grey seals lounging on the beach below us...Okay, so from this high up they look like slugs, but they certainly sounded

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-84821636205929324742008-03-31T18:52:00.005+01:002008-03-31T19:14:35.343+01:00

Today was a whole lot of fun! Oh yes it was: drawing, drawing, drawing! Chantal Brooks was running a workshop at the Exchange gallery in Penzance called 'I Can't Draw', the idea being to get visitors to the gallery to let go of their inhibitions, pick up a pencil and get drawing. She invited me along for the day as 'guest artist', so I spent the day drawing and talking to visitors. And

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-84554088969071307872008-03-29T19:16:00.005Z2008-03-30T15:49:44.065+01:00

For the last couple of days I’ve had my head down and my nose stuck in a book I just couldn’t put down: 350 pages of compelling stuff. Engleby by Sebastian Faulks: £2.99 in W H Smith if you were prepared to stoop low enough to buy The Times. I stooped. Then discovered I needn’t have bothered because the book was half-price in Waterstones anyway. Having been welded to the sofa for several

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-83456240977818819402008-03-18T22:54:00.002Z2008-03-18T22:56:46.013Z

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-51297780200226598862008-03-18T22:18:00.006Z2008-03-18T22:52:19.997Z

Well, how about this for a location to do it in?! This is Gwithian on the north Cornish coast and luckily it's only a short drive away. I spent an hour or so beach combing for driftwood with Chantal this afternoon and it was the best cobweb remover going - and it's free! Well, that is apart from the council's plan to fleece everyone: "Oooh, it's Easter let's make a load of money out of the

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-38764983851383614052008-03-16T12:30:00.006Z2008-03-16T12:58:55.516Z

If your name is Chantal, you may want to close your eyes now!!!I feel I've been neglectful here for several weeks, months even. Ill health and an imminent move are not conducive to clear thinking, for me! So, just to try and square things up a bit, here's a sneak preview of something I've been working on for months - just to prove I am still an artist! I'm making an artists' book (well, it

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-52070385556716456712008-03-12T17:55:00.003Z2008-03-12T17:58:08.732Z

I am pissed off with the world and its wife telling me what I should be, what I should do and how I should live my life. I AM AN ARTIST. I will live my life as an artist and if the rest of the world doesn't like it, the rest of the world can sod off and get over it.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-14114224929522866722008-03-03T22:55:00.002Z2008-03-03T23:05:00.409Z

Breakfast in bed: fruit tea and a large slice of home-made caramel slice (also called millionaire's shortbread)Elevenses: Thornton's chocolate-covered Turkish delight (generously shared with offspring)Tea: home-made American pancakes and maple syrup followed by pain-au-chocolate, accompanied by fresh coffee and orange-juice avec bits inDinner: several large slices of home-made caramel slice

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-70178216796172646422008-03-01T16:25:00.008Z2008-03-02T01:21:20.339Z

Today is a good one. I had enough energy to go and sort out the airing cupboard, which is huge and full of junk. And, as you would expect with this kind of domestic bliss, I came across a long-forgotten gem. Several years ago my mother gave me a set of four encyclopaedias, called The World of the Children, she said she bought them for me when I was a child, and sure enough I found them tucked

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-62301975029222691172008-02-26T23:36:00.004Z2008-02-26T23:55:41.407Z

I sent this image to Chantal recently as part of our exchange. I hope she doesn't mind me reproducing it here, because to me it symbolises so many things we've been talking about and making things about for each other. In other words it feels very personal between us, but then on the other hand it will eventually be shown to a large gallery audience... Anyhow, I'm not going to show you what I

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-80642592632006441892008-02-23T22:59:00.002Z2008-02-23T23:21:24.949Z

I've sat here this week questioning why I'm still here and I can't find an answer that satisfies. I wait for scraps to come my way, but I'm so empty I can barely move towards them if they do. It's draining, trying to make sense of my existence; anyone's existence. Living is a selfish act.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-66876799019026656912008-02-19T21:22:00.002Z2008-02-19T21:29:17.703Z

The story Peter, a young boy, lives with his grandfather in the Russian countryside. One day Peter leaves the garden gate open, and the duck takes the opportunity to go swimming on the nearby pond. She starts arguing with a little bird ("What kind of bird are you if you can't fly?" - "What kind of bird are you if you can't swim?"). Peter's pet cat sneaks up on them, and the bird – warned by Peter

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-14368348444959049642008-02-19T19:47:00.003Z2008-02-19T21:32:22.166Z

I received a letter today and inside was a story that I was asked to pass on...Pete was once a taxi-driver, one of his regular passengers was a lovely woman who he was very fond of. She told him this story - he in turn passed it on to his sister, she passed it to me and now I'm passing it on to you.Yohanna was a woman who owned a local shop, her cat would lay in the window, sunning itself.One of

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-20523741767077240082008-02-19T18:54:00.006Z2008-02-19T19:01:29.589Z

The new haircut - and no these weren't taken after he'd been to bed!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-58405555009813583062008-02-17T22:00:00.003Z2008-02-18T11:03:33.511Z

I knew I'd find one,I see me in them everywhere.I can't help looking,wondering, was it worth it.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-49856079975736763862008-02-14T00:16:00.004Z2008-02-14T00:30:22.151Z

Well, after almost 10 years (make that eight, he was bald for the first 2), of enduring either me cutting his hair basin-shaped or some old codger in a barber shop making him look like an old codger, I decided to treat Kim to a proper hair cut (a bit like the difference between a proper pasty and a Ginsters). As you can tell, he thoroughly enjoyed the experience of 'free' juice, a hair wash (oh

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-51418088601510993702008-02-07T13:24:00.000Z2008-02-07T13:25:52.188Z

the mood is swingingthe trap door is shuttight fast

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-80893863364405224412008-02-06T22:42:00.001Z2008-02-17T12:37:58.738Z

For the first time in months (what four or five?) I've updated my website - woohoo!www.stephanieboon.co.uk (just in case you'd forgotten!)Something a bit weird has happened today. After three months I finally got around to loading Dreamweaver and an ftp program onto this laptop. Then I sorted out the inevitable headache that goes along with that, mostly to do with the fact that I can't

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-88718520838827621452008-02-04T09:10:00.000Z2008-02-05T23:37:04.994Z

The 'anti climactic eruption' of Oliver Sutherland's VolcanoKim takes a look into Patrick Lowry's sculpture, to see how far down it goes...We trundled down to Newlyn yesterday for this fun, light-hearted exhibition that was part of the Newlyn Art Gallery's Transitions programme and was curated by Sovay Berriman. The work on show was inspired by the film Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-34466921129270207872008-02-04T01:33:00.000Z2008-02-04T01:40:27.465Z

A few pictures taken in Penzance yesterday afternoon, 'twas a bit blustery!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-53769962651501742362008-02-02T19:44:00.000Z2008-02-05T23:40:38.240Z

The painted Mars-red floorboards are scuffed and worn, but there's enough sheen that the light from the drinks fridge casts dappled patterns across the undulating surface. She's staring at it for several minutes before she notices that the music's stopped. A female voice eventually breaks the silence with a grandiose, soulful wailing "Get out of my life, why don't you babe, you keep me hanging

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-85063362333242186212008-02-02T15:27:00.000Z2008-02-02T19:37:35.586Z

I've just spent the last half hour or so reading about cabbage white butterflies on the web; I was shocked to discover that all most sites talk about is how to kill them. The one on the left, I can assure you, died a natural death and now lives on as a work of art! It was sent to me via post by Chantal of course, and I hope she'll forgive me for the fuzzy photo, because it is a very beautiful

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-87250999664105769592008-01-28T23:09:00.000Z2008-01-28T23:13:29.899Z

My desk this afternoon...hmmm, maybe that bottle of turps shouldn't be quite so close to the pan of boiling beeswax?

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-30021176490606731432008-01-23T21:46:00.001Z2008-01-23T21:50:42.766Z

Hmmmm... Not only does a squatter move in on my very limited bedroom floor space, but apparently he has to bring his friends, Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and Eyeore too! And of course a few books to read. And a duvet. And cushions. And pillows. Oh god, it'll be the Lego next...

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-36885213816642267272008-01-20T14:20:00.001Z2008-02-02T19:37:35.588Z

The first book I ever made, age 10 (in Miss Oliver's class at Lavender Junior School!) :The autograph book's cover - just look at the quality of that stencilled writing!The inside cover, signed by the class monitors!My favourite little ditty by one of my classmates; oh to be 10 again!The last book I ever made, er I finished it today...I've made a notebook/sketchbook for the collaborative

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-16575579586541419542008-01-13T23:30:00.000Z2008-01-13T23:39:50.422Z

When your feet get soaking wet it's great to know your friends will help you out. Chantal lent me a pair of socks, while mine were drying on her stove - and then she made me a pair of make-shift wellies! Stunning! (And they worked brilliantly.)

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-85332490220045516132008-01-13T12:09:00.000Z2008-01-13T12:12:49.666Z

Mylor, Church Road: view of road.Mylor to Penryn: plants growing on the verge and view of road. Already the journey to you is a struggle; I’m so tired and my legs are aching from yesterday.Road to Penryn: view over to hills. There are tears running down my cheeks, and the sun, low in the sky, is drying them.Penryn, Church Road: Travis Perkins.This journey is about time. The time we take to make

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-79264779115864985072008-01-09T16:44:00.001Z2008-02-02T19:50:25.029Z

I've been gripped by Hugh's Chicken Run over the last couple of nights, as have millions of tv viewers, apparently. Have you seen it? If you eat meat you should watch it. I don't normally get on my high horse about vegetarianism (or anything else, ever, obviously...ha, ha!), but honestly, after watching this if you don't turn to free-range chickens or become veggie over night you should be

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-48031470822589069252008-01-08T18:44:00.001Z2008-01-08T18:52:44.170Z

Bonfire smoke getting caught beneath the trees in MylorVery still water and crystal clear reflections on Mylor CreekJanuary sky from my bedroom window the other dayKim on an early evening walk today

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-22705270081192114272008-01-04T18:24:00.001Z2008-01-04T18:29:14.407Z

Kim cheating...well at least he didn't end up in plaster.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-63239511815948953972008-01-04T18:17:00.001Z2008-01-04T18:21:36.949Z

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-80496876064572600642008-01-04T18:14:00.001Z2008-02-02T19:51:27.382Z

It was the 2nd January and look what was on the shelves in Woolworths in Truro. Something is wrong with the world.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-30440593068273745492008-01-02T12:18:00.000Z2008-01-02T12:21:52.068Z

Jesus, this morning I've woken up with not one, but two black eyes and a lovely greenish bruise across the swelling bridge of my nose. Kim says I'm going to look like I'm wearing a mask, one that I can't take off. Then he laughed a wicked, evil laugh, ha, ha, ha, haaaaaaaa...

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-75490898913135072342008-01-01T00:17:00.001Z2008-01-01T00:22:01.763Z

Funnily enough I don't feel like celebrating anything. Maybe I'll feel a bit happier when the sodding fireworks stop going off, but I doubt it. So I'm going to bed. Night.

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-57941244053191114922007-12-30T21:07:00.000Z2007-12-30T21:17:55.900Z

If you thought you'd come to this blog for something interesting you've come to the wrong place, and if you thought I was miserable last week you should hear me now. Now I have a black eye, a forehead like John Merrick and an arm in plaster. This space is for miserable gits only. Actually it's probably only for this particular miserable git. I don't actually know why I'm bothering to type

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-44637346823178719472007-12-24T22:12:00.001Z2007-12-24T22:18:27.399Z

Ta daaaaaa! We now have a very festive looking sitting roomand Kim is just waiting (should that be hoping?!)for Father Christmas to arrive with some pressies!Aaaaaw, me and Kim after a hard day mooching about!You might think the smile has something to do with feeling festive,but it's probably got more to do with a big glass of gin!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-18811451673581508662007-12-24T10:30:00.000Z2007-12-24T10:33:38.061Z

It's official. It's Christmas eve and I really am beginning to feel a bit more festive. Time to put on the cheesy Christmas music, drag in the Christmas tree from where it's been languishing in the garden for a week and cover it in kitsch crap, ooh! And while I'm at it I think I'll open a bottle of something and a tin of something too. Lovely. Byeee!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-23848033109460964412007-12-23T22:13:00.001Z2007-12-24T10:34:30.818Z

Above: Kim with some of his festive creations: a fantastic Father Christmas model that he made at school and a gingerbread house that we decorated together this evening... I wonder if it will last through 'til Christmas day? Hmmm, ok so so far I've demolished a box of Roses in about 5 days and a whole Camembert cheese in 2, now I'm working hard on half a bottle of gin in an evening, but please

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-43515441824927448202007-12-23T18:30:00.000Z2008-02-02T19:57:05.019Z

I was beginning to feel marginally festive yesterday, but it seems the feelings were fleeting and this afternoon I'm back to being my miserable self. What was it about yesterday that had me feeling a little bit of Christmas cheer and what is it about today that has dissipated it all again? Hmmm...Yesterday I got up early (for me anyway) and managed to get to Tesco by 8.15 in the morning,

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-13492255928334598432007-12-18T22:56:00.000Z2007-12-18T23:23:36.525Z

It's a week before the festivities should begin, but already I've been stuffing myself with chocolate. I couldn't help it. I needed comfort, having lost a prize I really wanted, and there was a big tin of Cadbury's Roses on top of the cupboard, staring at me, lulling me into its colourful, glitzy interior. And of course I've been making truffles, as I do at this time of year, so I've had a go

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-57972980857894915712007-12-17T11:17:00.000Z2007-12-17T12:07:38.386Z

Installing Unspoken - Chantal on the left, me on the right(the black thing with the hands on has nothing to do with us!)Installation view showing the paper plinths (Chantal's brain child!) Correspondence: in the window on the left is a photo and envelope from Chantal;on the plinth on the right is a 'postcard' from Chantal and the 'bird and be' box I sent to her Some of our earlier

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-28559198762278529162007-12-11T19:33:00.001Z2007-12-12T00:06:48.370Z

Unspoken is an installation by Chantal Brooks and me, and these are just a couple of pictures of the installation on show at Invigorate at the Exchange in Penzance last week. It's made up of a correspondence between the two of us and includes narrative, images (including prints) and small sculptural 'artefacts'; there were probably around 25 objects on display, but the work is ongoing and will

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-83808182266949318492007-12-05T20:03:00.000Z2007-12-05T21:16:58.914Z

ooh have a look at this...www.vjtheory.netListened to a discussion on vj-ing this pm at Invigorate - very stimulating, even late in a busy, busy day (drinking the gallery coffee mostly...). Interesting to learn how practitioners are collaborating in a relatively new field to create a means of debate on an international scale. Have a look at the website for some great articles and links to vj

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-19369900153953950262007-12-04T21:59:00.000Z2007-12-04T22:52:42.140Z

I'm feeling guilty. Making Unspoken has been a breeze. And making art shouldn't be like that should it? It should be a tortuous affair, with much pulling out of the hair, tantrums, swearing and staring blankly out of the window. It's the big day tomorrow, not today as I'd been lead to believe. No, setting up is now from 8am tomorrow morning. In Penzance. 25 odd bloody miles away. And I

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-2739073699144312882007-12-03T23:45:00.000Z2007-12-04T00:03:41.599Z

I'm sending out words and images and have no record of them. It's weird in the day of emails and computers to send out a hand written letter and not be able to reread what you wrote. I could have copied them out verbatim before I posted them, or photographed them or scanned them into the pc, but I wanted to remember what it was like not to be able to do that. Somehow I think it makes it more

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-54073560043348090212007-11-27T19:29:00.001Z2007-11-27T19:45:35.346Z

Come and see our new installation UNSPOKEN at The Exchange in Penzance! It'll be on display on the 5th and 7th December from 10am - 2pm (both days). There's also an artists' talk on from 10.20 - 2 on the Friday - yours truly and Chantal will be waxing lyrical for a bit, and 4 other artists will be talking about their installations too. It's all part of Invigorate, a four day event at The

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-89274467289872377142007-11-25T10:40:00.000Z2007-11-25T11:14:48.130Z

For an art blog there hasn't been much in the way of visual stimulation here for a while has there? How remiss of me. There are various reasons for this: I'm using a new laptop and the software I needed to load for my camera phone isn't working and I can't be arsed to sort it out; I haven't got Photoshop or anything on here yet either. But mostly it's because I'm feeling like a right

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-52308919260956470022007-11-19T20:01:00.000Z2007-11-19T21:35:11.181Z

So beautiful. I could never have imagined that I would receive something today that would touch me so deeply; a love letter, weaving your words of love into the fabric of my soul. The deep umber shadow that is with me through day and darkness, my constant companion, lifted long enough for me to feel the depths of your words. I want to sear the edges so that there are no loose threads to be

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-1175938018797937292007-11-17T13:51:00.000Z2007-11-17T13:54:24.310Z

To see thread in your dream, symbolises a path or journey. It also represents a connection to your thoughts and ideas. Consider also the colour of the thread.Dreammoods.com

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-66075680068984520242007-11-17T08:10:00.000Z2007-11-17T11:02:18.732Z

I'm going to have to get more creative on here. I've been looking at lots of other lovely blogs and now I feel ashamed. Maybe I've just been using this place as a kind of journal/sketchbook and receptacle for other rubbish I just don't know what else to do with. (Notices handy looking waste paper basket beside desk. Notices it needs emptying.) I may even have to learn, omg I'm going to have

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-62216022344626779202007-11-16T18:25:00.000Z2007-11-16T18:44:47.633Z

Well, I just got a bit bored. No, I know, I didn't give the look of the old blog a face lift, so much as a punch in the face - hence the lovely bruisy purple colour, obviously. I'm envious of other people (aka other bloggers) who manage to make their pages look so understated, contemporary and slick, but as you can see I just don't know how to make the grade in that department. Still, if you

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-58786530083110363882007-11-16T15:20:00.000Z2007-11-16T15:22:21.384Z

It’s a wonderful view from here - from the top of the flats on a clear day I can even see the Post Office tower. But just now I’m leaning over the rails from high above, looking down at you playing and I can’t help smiling. There you are running around the crab apple trees that line the road, scooping up all the pink blossoms and leaving the white ones; every now and then you disappear from view

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-52913507181413458732007-11-14T23:50:00.000Z2007-11-15T00:24:13.895Z

God, think I may have to change that dead bird drawing on the left. As someone very sweetly observed the other day, I haven't done much with dead stuff over the last couple of months. Er, well actually there was a butterfly recently, but that definitely died of natural causes on the kitchen windowsill, and it didn't get drowned in wax, so I'm pretty sure it doesn't count. Trouble is, what

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-30163082685986186372007-11-14T23:02:00.000Z2007-11-14T23:15:32.801Z

I'm crossing the shore in bare feet and my trail disappears behind me, sinking. I have no idea where I've come from, and without that how do I know where I should go? I carry an image in my head of a man crossing the beach wearing wings - did he glide down from the cliffs high above, or does he wear them ready to fly away? I suspect he's already flown: he's a solitary figure and he walks away

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-21049334870955135762007-11-13T13:52:00.001Z2007-11-21T16:12:00.439Z

Here I am in the coffee shop again. Today I decided not to write about the people I see around me, the observation of odd mannerisms, the telling voices, the watching of life go by. I decided instead to read the first chapter of a Carol Shields novel I picked up in a charity shop this morning. I only came across her words earlier this year; it was a strange meeting, a feeling that she'd been

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-7577155788042415972007-11-12T22:10:00.000Z2007-11-12T22:15:10.215Z

That which remains unspokenThat which will kill meThat which unhinges meThat which will kill youThat which is affectionThat which is angerThat which is confusionThat which is fearThat which is loveThat which remains unspokenThat which is pointlessThat which is goodThat which is emptyThat which is blatantThat which is implicitThat which is envyThat which I do not speak ofThat which is centralThat

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-86602722626855044582007-11-12T17:27:00.000Z2007-11-12T17:40:52.042Z

The Brooks and Boon (or should that be Boon and Brooks?) installation UNSPOKEN will be on display at The Exchange as part of the Invigorate event on the mornings of Wednesday 5th and Thursday 6th December 2007. There are talks scheduled about the installations (I believe there are five all together) on the Thursday, but I'm not sure about the times, so will have to confirm it soon...I've just

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-63774413300166807722007-11-12T00:10:00.000Z2007-11-12T00:50:08.712Z

It's gone midnight and I'm still sat here making things. I'm making something small at the moment; it won't be with me long, I'll be sending it on its journey tomorrow. Journeys have been on my mind a lot over the last few days. I'm thinking more about the journeys we make as people, rather than physically crossing the land in some way, short or far. I'm on an amazing journey at the moment,

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-60253730146181549952007-11-11T14:17:00.000Z2007-11-11T19:17:15.914Z

I watched a solitary bee collecting pollen , the little orange sacks on its legs loaded with its industry. The scent of lavender was strong and I could hear the sound of the sea carried on the breeze. I was lying there on the grass imagining a man walking across the sand, he'd walk up the cliff path and come and find me. Without a word he'd lie down next to me, link my fingers with his and

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-88043136391352784512007-11-09T00:47:00.000Z2007-11-09T01:04:58.767Z

I am but a butterfly in a jam jarfeeding from a once lushvelvety green leafthat now wilts and decays.Carried along at somebody else's will I sit placidlyseemingly enjoying the rideBut inside I'm tortured and suffocatingand nobody sees.At the sight of rolling hills punctuatedwith mustard yellow umbrellared by a resonating blue skyexcitement wells within meand Hodgkin comes to mind.Then my spirit

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-10802259122255304342007-11-07T12:09:00.000Z2007-11-07T13:57:27.310Z

Am I really going to let someone that shit still have so much influence over my emotions, allow the selfish bastard's actions to make me feel so unlovable? He's been inside wreaking havoc since I was six - I shut him in and I should have fucking shut him out. I've been grieving for that unloved child for too long. You can have her, because I don't want her any more. I'm beginning to see that

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-7530718142364694552007-11-07T11:00:00.000Z2007-11-12T22:13:44.817Z

That which remains unspoken.That which I do not speak ofThat which I am afraid to tell youThat which is secretThat which is darkThat which is absentThat which is loveThat which remains unspokenThat which is painfulThat which is hurtfulThat which is lostThat which is achingThat which is smartingThat which is bleakThat which is loveThat which is denialThat which is doubtThat which is coldThat which

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-10392381032717204622007-11-06T21:44:00.001Z2007-11-06T22:05:43.818Z

www.invigorate.org.ukI'm lucky enough to be involved in the upcoming Invigorate event (see link above) at the Exchange gallery in Penzance this December and have begun work on my first collaborative piece with installation artist Chantal Brooks. It's really exciting! I'm wondering though, whether for the first time in my blogging life I ought to keep my mouth shut about what we're up to!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-74021086725061539532007-11-06T00:33:00.000Z2007-11-06T22:08:06.446Z

I have to protect myself from you, from the hurt you might do to me. I know you won’t mean it, but you’ll do it. I know you have no idea that anyone could be so easily hurt, least of all me - because you know me, or so you think. You think you know every little aspect of me, every little thing to avoid, to sidestep so that I don’t crumple in your hands like a dried autumn leaf and turn to dust

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-40153645666281733152007-11-03T20:25:00.001Z2007-11-03T20:46:57.625Z

A glass of cider, a toffee apple, a few sparklers, a massive bonfire and some pyrotechnics and you know autumn is definitely here. It's curious how we lose the meaning of things though; every year children dress up a Guy and chuck him on the fire without any apparent understanding of the fact that they're celebrating the burning of Catholics. Nice. I wonder what they think they are doing? Of

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-180532072000114712007-10-29T23:51:00.001Z2007-10-30T00:30:41.733Z

I'm afraid my life is very dull and boring and I have nothing to say to any of you. I have no thoughts of any interest, nothing exciting going on in this little red head of mine. I feel empty. I feel compelled to write, but who for, and how when my mind is as cold as my freezing hands? I don't know what you want from me. I'm writing for the darkness; I can't even write for me any more. I'm

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-42709880530374380622007-10-29T23:42:00.001Z2007-10-29T23:47:13.650Z

Yes, while I ran a boring art workshop last week my crazy (should be locked up) friends ran a 'geology and music' one. It could only happen in Cornwall. (Couldn't it?)

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-74897892075939514422007-10-23T14:25:00.000+01:002007-10-23T14:42:18.759+01:00

There I was sitting on a curly bench on the Plaza in Truro this morning, enjoying a cup of coffee in the sunshine, when I was accosted by an old man in a blue cardigan with a rucksack on his back. I thought he was going to ask me the time or directions, but no, he said to me "did you know that Jesus died on the cross for your sins?". As you can imagine I almost choked on my coffee and spat it

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-30468077663899249202007-10-17T20:14:00.001+01:002007-10-17T23:05:57.167+01:00

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-75679884197065772482007-10-16T19:52:00.001+01:002007-10-16T20:23:40.483+01:00

Oooh, feeling very autumnal...

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-78602841915880364992007-10-16T17:24:00.000+01:002007-10-16T20:07:58.894+01:00

I feel like I need to laugh today. Not just the merest glimmer of a smile, but a kind of gut aching hysteria would be good. I want to laugh like I do at anything after I've had a glass of wine. Maybe that's the answer, but it's too early isn't it? And just what would make me laugh so much anyway? Eddie Izzard, Bill Hicks, maybe even Dylan Moran - nah, I just want GREEN WING! Excuse me,

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-79089051891275901332007-10-15T23:22:00.000+01:002007-10-15T23:27:14.147+01:00

I sleep on the floor curled up in a dark grey and orange sleeping bag, like an insect in its case, or an unripe seed in its pod. Actually, I probably look like a slug. Still, there’s nothing like pulling the hood up round your head and shutting out the intrusions of the world, only letting in the thoughts you want to linger over; shutting out the light and closing in the warmth. I lay on my

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-26645945677013441362007-10-14T14:06:00.000+01:002007-10-14T14:12:55.711+01:00

It's all been a bit of a social flurry this weekend; John Cooper Clarke at the Acorn on Friday night and Atonement followed by a very tasty curry in Truro last night. And today I slept until 1.30... I no longer want to be a dirty stop in...being a dirty stop out is much more fun!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-72120787068576509272007-10-13T13:20:00.000+01:002007-10-13T13:22:07.578+01:00

I'm going to cry and hide in a hole if you two don't even bother to vote :(

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-6088701831846872422007-10-13T13:12:00.000+01:002007-10-13T13:16:27.245+01:00

Ooooh, the lovely artcornwall website has another review that includes reflections on yours truly's participation in the Embark ferry show in May this year. Thanks Rupert!! It does of course include reviews of the other artists' shows, I guess I should just mention that!!!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-14712405451790003122007-10-11T17:26:00.000+01:002007-10-11T17:27:40.292+01:00

If I call myself a visual artist, how often does that mean I have to make something visual?

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-79373861967261283482007-10-11T15:05:00.000+01:002007-10-11T15:08:31.276+01:00

So far, I have been awake all day. You could even describe it as busy. Tis not natural and I am going to hunt for some matchsticks now, because there is still no chance of a catnap for at least another hour....

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-13784028691805306452007-10-10T17:27:00.000+01:002007-10-10T17:57:47.420+01:00

This post is coffee induced. Frankly I'm on my 3rd humungous cup in the last couple of hours and I'm a bit twitchy. I sanctimoniously gave up drinking coffee at home several years ago, reserving it as a 'special treat' for when I went out. Lately though I've found myself increasingly drawn to cafes; the smell is intoxicating. I started off by thinking it was okay, I could handle it as long as

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-10763223397223959332007-10-10T14:43:00.001+01:002007-10-10T14:51:02.788+01:00

Yes, I'm still here drinking my coffee. Now I'm pondering whether I ought to make some changes to this ere blog. It's been a rather fabulous orange world for sometime now, but I'm wondering whether it's time for a change... You could just call it another diversion, another way to keep myself out of the studio. You could call it another attempt to try and attract more than 2 regular readers,

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-73402784784337625472007-10-10T13:27:00.000+01:002007-10-10T14:22:44.863+01:00

Been asleep from 11 - 1 again today. Not just napping, more the coma-sleep variety; the sort where you wake up, sit up and feel like you still left your head on the pillow. What was I doing before 11? I can't remember, but I'm sure it was scintillating. A visit to the building society was included, I remember that much. I hate my building society branch. There are always queues out the door

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-4108143112204042052007-10-09T22:12:00.000+01:002007-10-09T22:20:37.570+01:00

A review of 2nd Nature has been published on the artcornwall website recently. The exhibition, which includes my piece Other Shores, has finished in the cathedral now, but continues at Vitreous gallery until the 13th. The review is by Joseph Clarke and has some good text and images - and an interesting nugget of information about my work that I didn't know... There's also a short video that

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-9533807704393476492007-10-09T21:53:00.000+01:002007-10-09T21:55:55.730+01:00

Stuff is foaming around in my head like the milk on a cappuccino and it’s so dense I can’t think. There are bubbles popping all over the place, all at the same time, each one a little burst of creativity, but none of them big enough to amount to anything. How do I get a bigger bubble, like the kind you get when you rub soap on your hands, put them together and blow gently through; crystal clear

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-45488131434279162262007-10-07T20:06:00.000+01:002007-10-07T20:38:44.391+01:00

Today I feel like a badly behaved teenager coming back down to earth with a bloody big bump. Do you ever look back at your own behaviour and wonder who the hell was in your head at the time, with the distinct feeling that it wasn't entirely you? Or if, in fact, it was entirely you and that it scares the living daylights out of you? Well, these are the kind of feelings I've been wrestling with

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-3418953374795388752007-10-04T19:36:00.000+01:002007-10-04T19:41:06.210+01:00

euuuuuw... I've turned the heating on in my studio and the smell is RANK!!! And since I'm spending more time in there lately, that's not good! If anyone out there has any ideas as to where I can store my collection of dead and decaying stuff, without it decaying to nothing, let me know, for I fear that before long I will be wearing eau de owl permanently...

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-83390895282566297342007-10-03T16:35:00.000+01:002007-10-03T21:16:21.817+01:00

Twas a beautiful autumn day today and everything was shimmering with copper colours, including my hair - oh yes it is! I've been sitting here for a lot of the time, staring out of the window at the beech trees turning colour; they're still very green, but there are already leaves with flecks of yellow tinged with burnt orange, and I don't suppose it'll be long before they fall. I can see

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-69200043528831321632007-09-30T22:58:00.000+01:002007-09-30T23:17:47.345+01:00

The weather wasn't so bad today, so Kate and me decided to set up at Mabe car boot sale, after last week's washout, to try and get rid of all our junk. I hate car boot sales: they're tortuous and full of strange people that like to buy junk! Today though I had a pleasant surprise and met someone that used to work for me about 14 years ago. She was there with her 10 and a half year old son and

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-40739255038226588002007-09-29T11:32:00.000+01:002007-09-29T11:52:50.046+01:00

Ok, so today I am officially excited! This week we have PJ's new album White Chalk, AND, more importantly Control is released on the 5th - woohooo! It's got rave reviews, brilliant music and is guaranteed to take me back to nosalgialand: lying on my back in the dark, age 15, listening to the most incredibly atmospheric sounds with the most amazing lyrics, head stuck to the speakers - wondering

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-29140090116777478342007-09-27T19:25:00.001+01:002007-09-27T19:28:13.119+01:00

Cos PJ's on Front Row talking about making sculpture - yay!!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-14693096523093546432007-09-27T17:01:00.000+01:002007-09-27T19:11:14.492+01:00

I'm having major trouble concentrating on anything today: it's a pain in the arse! Despite my distractability, I've managed to make another page for the website showing some images of the small installation Viscera that I made for the exhibition last month. About time...Well I suppose I should also have given you a link to said new page on www.stephanieboon.co.uk - what do you want, blood?!!!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-7305518052792202532007-09-24T16:53:00.000+01:002007-09-24T17:27:34.851+01:00

It's been one of those days today where the artist in me just wants to flounce about drinking strong coffee. So that's what I did; drawn to Costa's like a magnet, so I could just sit there and people watch...under the guise of writing something terribly interesting of course:He was an intriguing character, Faginesque in his appearance: thin, lank and dirty and over wrapped for the warmth of the

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-53456505107785880442007-09-23T19:09:00.000+01:002007-09-23T19:28:43.962+01:00

Me, Jackie and Kate this afternoonWhen it rains all afternoon and the car-boot sale you were planning to do to get rid of all your crap is cancelled, what else is there to do but go for a coffee at Miss Peapods and watch Jackie "stroking her muff"! Very entertaining! Jackie's off on her travels to Spain and Portugal, and wherever else takes her fancy, next week and doesn't know how long she'll

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-86998023894455226802007-09-22T23:07:00.000+01:002007-09-22T23:51:29.227+01:00

I went to the Private View of 2nd nature this evening at Truro Cathedral and Vitreous Contemporary Art (also in Truro). I had a lovely time looking at all the wonderful video works in the cathedral and then it was over to the gallery for a few glasses of wine, a lot of me talking inebriated crap to my friends (or maybe it was 'at' my friends!!!) and looking at some of the other work on the walls

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-61363417141228998812007-09-22T01:12:00.000+01:002007-09-22T02:28:50.663+01:00

I got so hot and bothered this morning that I did several cartwheels to try and get rid of the energy - it just made me want to do more... My friend, also the type to be full of beans, decided she'd have a go too. She was total crap. (I, on the other hand was brilliant, naturally!) 10/10 for boldness 0/10 for style. I find this funny since her little daughter seems to be training for the

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-79938236212009026002007-09-20T00:33:00.000+01:002007-09-20T00:39:51.397+01:00

Just been to see Alan Bennett's History Boys (the play, not the film) - hilarious...my favourite part being when a teacher describes teaching in the '70's as being about getting the bright ones to uni - and that the others will be alright because they can always do...ART!!!!! Ring any bells? Oh, so true for me!!!!! Nothing like knowing you were a write off from the word go!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-66471803711456539022007-09-19T11:20:00.001+01:002007-09-19T11:26:15.139+01:00

Video/sound work exhibition at Truro Cathedral and Vitreous Contemporary Art, Truro, Setpember 23 - October 13 2007. Go See it!!!

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26252908.post-77089598867325169952007-09-18T16:31:00.000+01:002007-09-18T16:38:58.107+01:00

The woman's middle aged figure was slim and shapeless. Her face had those down-turned, droopy eyes that look cute on your neighbour's dog. Gravity wasn't doing much for the rest of her face either and it looked like it was slowly sliding to the ground. She couldn't sit still, constantly fidgeting, shifting her weight side to side, forwards and backwards, running her hands through her hair

Stephiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09461286927746997845noreply@blogger.com0