Wednesday, 30 November 2011
Surprise!
I suddenly realised I'd neglected, for the first time in many years, to buy myself an advent calendar.
I've been busy.
But, right now, waving the branch of a tree at me,
Linda wants to know where the white paint is.
Linda wants a paint brush.
Linda tells me I have to stay out of the front room for at least 20 minutes.
I am called into the front room,
Linda has made me my very own advent stick!
I've been busy.
But, right now, waving the branch of a tree at me,
Linda wants to know where the white paint is.
Linda wants a paint brush.
Linda tells me I have to stay out of the front room for at least 20 minutes.
I am called into the front room,
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Monday, 28 November 2011
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Horse!
Intrepid independent film maker Ned Ouwell has a close encounter with a heavily soiled horse called Oprah.
("stupid name for a horse" N. Owell.)
("stupid name for a horse" N. Owell.)
Sundry Mortifications No.19 : Some Things I Write.
"Then it fell off.
I trimmed the ends up that time, and woodlice, had compromised.
Then I left it somewhere and forgot about it."
Good 'eavens.
Ducky Pegs.
CRI's & music aside, I haven't made anything for awhile. Which makes me itch.
I've had an piece of interesting driftwood nailed to the front of my shed for years.
Then it fell off.
I trimmed the ends up that time, and woodlice, had compromised.
Then I left it somewhere and forgot about it.
This week I was having a root-around in one of the many drawers-of-interesting-things in the flat and found a coat-hanger shaped like a duck's head.
It seemed so 'naff'.
Then I remembered seeing another one exactly like it, but couldn't remember where I'd seen it.
It took me two days to find it. It was screwed to the back of the door in the back room.
Dressing gowns are a nuisance.
When they're not being worn they just lay about on the bed doing nothing all day.
Well, nothing except being untidy I s'pose.
What they need is a peg to hang on so they can be ready at a moments notice.
I held a duck peg up to the wall and it just looked a bit 'sad' really.
Like when people have a really slick kitchen fitted but screw a cup hook into the front of one of the doors to hang a tea-towel on.
(Prefer Aga's m'self. Tea towels look good hanging on the front of an Aga.)
Now the dim bulb starts to glow.
What's needed is a 'something' to mount the duck pegs on which can then be screwed to the wall.
So, that's that problem solved.
Some days pass.
I am obsessively re-arranging various items in my attic hide-away.
I find the piece of driftwood.
Then this happens:
Four screws later I have something that can be fitted to a wall.
Which is a complex process involving:
I called on the wisdom of my ancestors, various things happened and the end result looked like this:
As the new facility has a nautical aspect (ish) I added some appropriate decoration:
I tested it's intended purpose:
Flushed with my achievement, I hung the diving lady up over the mirror:
I've had an piece of interesting driftwood nailed to the front of my shed for years.
 |
| Blue Pointer Indicates Area Under Discussion |
I trimmed the ends up that time, and woodlice, had compromised.
Then I left it somewhere and forgot about it.
This week I was having a root-around in one of the many drawers-of-interesting-things in the flat and found a coat-hanger shaped like a duck's head.
It seemed so 'naff'.
Then I remembered seeing another one exactly like it, but couldn't remember where I'd seen it.
It took me two days to find it. It was screwed to the back of the door in the back room.
Dressing gowns are a nuisance.
When they're not being worn they just lay about on the bed doing nothing all day.
Well, nothing except being untidy I s'pose.
What they need is a peg to hang on so they can be ready at a moments notice.
I held a duck peg up to the wall and it just looked a bit 'sad' really.
Like when people have a really slick kitchen fitted but screw a cup hook into the front of one of the doors to hang a tea-towel on.
(Prefer Aga's m'self. Tea towels look good hanging on the front of an Aga.)
Now the dim bulb starts to glow.
What's needed is a 'something' to mount the duck pegs on which can then be screwed to the wall.
So, that's that problem solved.
Some days pass.
I am obsessively re-arranging various items in my attic hide-away.
I find the piece of driftwood.
Then this happens:
 |
| The Parts Come Together |
Which is a complex process involving:
- A No.8 Wood Bit
- A No.8 Masonry Bit
- An Ancient Black & Decker Drill
- An Electrical Extension
- Two Screws
- Two Wall Plugs
- A Screwdriver
- A Spirt Level
- My Reading Glasses
I called on the wisdom of my ancestors, various things happened and the end result looked like this:
 |
| Result of Process |
 |
| "Giant Duck Peg Off the Port Bow C'pn!" |
 |
| A Success. |
 |
| Bombs Away! |
Friday, 25 November 2011
London: City of the Future
I really happy with it.
Mr. Glyn Webster also likes it and you can see how he utilised it here:
Sudden Enthusiasm: London 2011 A.D.
Mr. Webster is, without doubt, a member of The League of Outa_Space.
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Monday, 21 November 2011
An Evening of Lugubrious Music and Lopsided Prose: Prep.
I seem to have done nothing for the last 6-8 weeks except practice the songs I set to music from the Hooting Yard Song Book.
I actually 'collected' 9 originals but, due to pressure of time, had to cut it back to 6 for performance.
I began by sitting with the words up on a screen in front of me and my large ukulele in my hand.
Through a process of strumming, plunking and mumbling, I get a rough form to work on.
I may abandon this 'original' form if something better turns up later on.
Which happened 3 times whilst working on these songs.
Then it's all about practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review.
I have a bit of a bee in my bonnet about learning the words to any song I intend to perform but, non of these songs were going into my set so, I probably could get away with not learning them by heart.
I learnt 'em by heart all the same.
I wasn't conscious of any 'pressure' about the gig but pushed myself to practice everyday for at least 2 hours.
I had demo versions of the songs on my iPod, on repeat.
I think Linda stopped speaking to me for 3 days before she forbade me from playing 'The Tiny-Headed Boy' in her earshot again. (she really meant it!)
I had intended for the gig to be the premier of the songs but I really needed to play them in front of people to get some feed-back.
I chose a folk session in the downs frequented by people of the 'Morris'.
I explained, as much as one can explain, the context of the songs and how they related to Hooting Yard and Mr. Key.
I, more or less, 'fluffed' all of the songs I played and gave up after 4.
The response was surprisingly positive.
Then a drunk man at the bar insisted we all play 'The Wild Rover' before he went home.
So, swings and round-a-bouts on that adventure.
Intensify the Training!
'The Tiny-Headed Boy' and 'On The Bonny, Bonny Banks' become so firmly embedded in my consciousness I cannot block them out during waking hours.
Linda forbids me from playing 'On The Bonny, Bonny Banks' within her ear-shot.
During this period I was also considering the small matter of amplification.
Did I need it?
If I did need it, how much?
I won't go into detail, suffice to say I came up with a mind-numbing list of options before deciding to forget them all and play acoustically.
Which is what I like doing.
During this period I was also considering the small matter of what to wear.
I chose my cape & a cherrie smile.
Thursday 17th of November, the day before the gig.
I leave work at lunch-time and return home to run through & record the 6 songs as many times as I can.
It takes around 14 minutes to play through all the songs.
I don't keep the recordings.
I just play/record, listen back, and trash. (Using QT Pro:7)
Linda went out.
Next Post: To London, Ah, Mr. Key I presume, Haemoglobin Towers and, possibly, An Evening of Lugubrious Music and Lopsided Prose.
I actually 'collected' 9 originals but, due to pressure of time, had to cut it back to 6 for performance.
I began by sitting with the words up on a screen in front of me and my large ukulele in my hand.
Through a process of strumming, plunking and mumbling, I get a rough form to work on.
I may abandon this 'original' form if something better turns up later on.
Which happened 3 times whilst working on these songs.
Then it's all about practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review/practice/record/review.
I have a bit of a bee in my bonnet about learning the words to any song I intend to perform but, non of these songs were going into my set so, I probably could get away with not learning them by heart.
I learnt 'em by heart all the same.
I wasn't conscious of any 'pressure' about the gig but pushed myself to practice everyday for at least 2 hours.
I had demo versions of the songs on my iPod, on repeat.
I think Linda stopped speaking to me for 3 days before she forbade me from playing 'The Tiny-Headed Boy' in her earshot again. (she really meant it!)
I had intended for the gig to be the premier of the songs but I really needed to play them in front of people to get some feed-back.
I chose a folk session in the downs frequented by people of the 'Morris'.
I explained, as much as one can explain, the context of the songs and how they related to Hooting Yard and Mr. Key.
I, more or less, 'fluffed' all of the songs I played and gave up after 4.
The response was surprisingly positive.
Then a drunk man at the bar insisted we all play 'The Wild Rover' before he went home.
So, swings and round-a-bouts on that adventure.
Intensify the Training!
'The Tiny-Headed Boy' and 'On The Bonny, Bonny Banks' become so firmly embedded in my consciousness I cannot block them out during waking hours.
Linda forbids me from playing 'On The Bonny, Bonny Banks' within her ear-shot.
During this period I was also considering the small matter of amplification.
Did I need it?
If I did need it, how much?
I won't go into detail, suffice to say I came up with a mind-numbing list of options before deciding to forget them all and play acoustically.
Which is what I like doing.
During this period I was also considering the small matter of what to wear.
I chose my cape & a cherrie smile.
Thursday 17th of November, the day before the gig.
I leave work at lunch-time and return home to run through & record the 6 songs as many times as I can.
It takes around 14 minutes to play through all the songs.
I don't keep the recordings.
I just play/record, listen back, and trash. (Using QT Pro:7)
Linda went out.
Next Post: To London, Ah, Mr. Key I presume, Haemoglobin Towers and, possibly, An Evening of Lugubrious Music and Lopsided Prose.
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Saturday, 19 November 2011
Cardboard Reality Interventions 2011: 323
Tower Bridge London 19/11/11:
This intervention is dedicated to Pansy, Evrah, Frank, Woolfson, Tay and all the Yardista.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Thursday, 17 November 2011
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Monday, 14 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Ned Ouwell Art: The Wreath.
Ned Ouwell has been swearing with vigour all afternoon and succeeded in creating this:
Which is a frightening reminder of how close the 'festive' season is getting.
Saturday, 12 November 2011
An Evening of Lugubrious Music and Lopsided Prose: The Countdown Begins.
An Evening of Lugubrious Music and Lopsided Prose is upon us.
I shall be premiering the following songs:
I'll also be playing:
I've been practicing them all, relentlessly.
So relentlessly in fact, that Linda has forbidden me to play 'The Tiny-Headed Boy " in her hearing because she is unable, having heard the song, to "get it out of my head!"
 |
| Just buy a bloody ticket! |
- Rustic Lesson*
- The Tiny-Headed Boy
- On The Bonny Bonny Banks*
- Leo Sayer*
I'll also be playing:
- Dismantled Wooden Myrna Loy
- There Is A Pavilion By The Shore
- The Hooting Yard Chant
- Windham
I've been practicing them all, relentlessly.
So relentlessly in fact, that Linda has forbidden me to play 'The Tiny-Headed Boy " in her hearing because she is unable, having heard the song, to "get it out of my head!"
Friday, 11 November 2011
Geese!
Intrepid independent film maker Ned Ouwell confronts an angry crowd:
Notice poor Teepee the spotty dog, who just wants a bit of a fussing, lurking in the background.
Awwww.....
Notice poor Teepee the spotty dog, who just wants a bit of a fussing, lurking in the background.
Awwww.....
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