Somehow, I have lost February. While it is the shortest month of the year (and more likely to be mislaid) and every 4 years gets even shorter, this year February just got sucked into one BIG BLACK HOLE and only existed in negative space.
Negative as in space-time as well as emotional imprint. I wasn’t aware that I signed up for ‘ongoing nightmares part 16’ but apparently I did. BIG TIME.
February wasn’t any longer a month. No longer some agreed-on civilized measured time frame being part of something else referred to as ‘a year’. Not something intangible and only vaguely acknowledged when sorting out annoying payments like car insurance or checking used-by dates. From the somewhat slightly safer shores of March I can assure you FEBRUARY WAS A MONSTER.
Of course I am quite partial to monsters and there was a time in my life, when I did nothing but obsessively paint them.
Sitting on my golden oval-shaped table in my warm kitchen in a city in Northern Germany (raining outside, no doubt). Painting monsters.
Sharing another table with a fellow painter and friend and gazillions of tubes of paint overlooking the sunburned Mallorcan landscape with the ocean just out there in the distance…painting monsters.
Doing the very same thing in the north of Italy overlooking the Lago Maggiore…appropriate backdrop for another flock/ bustle/ family of monsters.
Finding some sort of temporary accommodation in a caravan park in Mildura flooded by Australian Grey Nomads (subclass of monster maybe?) around Xmas time while traveling with a friend. That friend cooking dinner and bleaching her hair while I just sat and kept…painting monsters.
And very recently I received some delightful MONSTER MAIL…what is not to like?
Ah well. I am happily heading towards the end of March with every intention to leave syringes, blood tests, more blood tests and even more blood tests behind…
21 needles in 6 days
2 collapsed lungs
1 water-logged heart
1 ‘deranged’ liver (what does that even mean? Insulting an organ…just because initially they couldn’t find a reason why everything went pear-shaped?!)
Gazillions of pills…pills…PILLS…and drips…drips…DRIPS!
Oxygen…LOTS of oxygen.
I won’t mention the food – it wasn’t food, after all.
AND NOT A SINGLE PAIR OF DECENT SHOES IN SIGHT. Outrageous. How anyone can heal in that situation, one wonders.
It is a sunny Saturday in the Northern Territory, a MASSIVE pile of assorted palm fronds has been cleared in the garden – and so has my mind. The hiss of that oxygen tank is a fading memory, and I am again able to focus on what is really of importance…discouraging big hairy unappealing spiders from taking up residence in my house (bringing all their friends and relatives in tow) – and dealing with what is ‘Ideal Husband‘.
Currently awaiting the arrival of THREE NEW SAMPLES – fine-tuning and perfecting those shapes and heels. Very much looking forward indeed. Any day now. Do I sound a tad impatient? Well, it has been a while without THAT SMELL. And THOSE SHAPES. And all that other glorious business that is SHOES. SHOES.
As usual, will be leaving you with a link to another shoe designer…this time, check out Deniz Terli – a Dutch footwear designer with Turkish roots based in Rotterdam. Enjoy!
(And watch out for those nasty little critters – ticks! To be avoided AT ALL COSTS…)
Have a restful rest of the weekend – wherever you are.