Friday 27 March 2009

#mousenews

Just met the mouse again. We meet every night, around this time. Slight mutual alarm. Though he is deeply cute, I will prob bring the cat.

The cats have disappeared into Mouseland. They are looking around with wonder, inhaling deeply, ecstatically alive and grateful. #mousenews

My plan: the cats will flush the mouse out, and then I jump in at the last minute of batbatbatting to cut a deal with him. #goodcop #mousenews

Plan was to play goodcop with the kitchen mice I have written about previously, once the cats had flushed them out. But now I'm watching Capote. Think I'll just interview the cats afterwards instead. #cruelbutsuccessful


I mean, I will spend time with the cats. I will gain the cats' confidence. I will bring the cat kittenfood when they have, um, starved themselves (albeit HIGHLY unlikely). I will share stories with the cats from my own difficult kittenhood even if it didn't happen. We will share. I will take their litter tray away and scrutinise it. I will write a great book. A great book. All the cats in apartment land will secretly read it, savouring every word, every batbatbat, every crunch. Vicarious.

Liveblogging #mousenews daily at twitter.com/herecomeslucy

Thursday 26 March 2009

Perplexed



God, look at this photograph. It was published in the Guardian last week, another of their series competitions under the theme of 'absorbed'. This is such a complex beauty. It's almost like a Raymond Carver short story. The tomato juice, the mirror frame and the ketchup bottle hold the image of the man with a kind of reassurance that he clearly has no access to. The ashtray keeps the letter pinned to the table, as if it will jump up and eat him otherwise. I get the impression he is probably reading the same sentence over and over and over, trying trying to understand it. This photograph, needless to say, didn't win the competition.

The fact is, of course, that this picture is exactly how I feel today.

Wednesday 25 March 2009

Roman water labyrinths through the deserts of the east

If you're keen on ancient architecture and underground waterways, you'll love this. Otherwise, not so much.

Tuesday 24 March 2009

An art career is born: toilets and taoiseachs



If they won't hang your paintings, just paint something eye grabbing, topical and political and guerilla hang it in the Royal Hibernian Academy and the National Gallery yourself instead. The hell with it, paint the prime minister naked on the toilet. And make it topical. Toilets and Taoiseachs. Get the media involved.

Get the police involved. Ooooooooh. Delicious. Delicious. The POLICE are hot on the tail of this artist.

Jay Jopling is surely not far behind.

UPDATE: RTE, our national broadcaster, today apologised for covering this topic of power, politics, nudity and alleged crime, in the main evening news, as a result of a complaint from the office of the Taoiseach, who considered the story irrelevant. Yeah, I mean, who could think such a story remotely interesting to the populace (especially in this economic and political climate)? I wonder if the office of the Taoiseach would recognise a newsworthy story if it bit them on the arse on the bog and painted them?

The greatest thing to hit email: Undo Send

Yes folks, gmail now allows you to go up to five seconds backwards in time and delete an email sent in error, regret or neglect. Isn't this just about the finest thing to hit email since, uh, gmail?

If you have a gmail account, just click on the labs tab under settings in the top right side of the page, and scroll down until you find it. Then forever after, you will have a few vital seconds to change your mind when sending an email! Hurrah!

Monday 23 March 2009

Honey, I'm home

Wild Life in Coole Woods

My Bloke

So. It has been a bit of a gap. My bloke was visiting me here in my exile, and making windows. We have been having a Really Great Time with just about everything. He has just about landed back in Brooklyn now, and things will probably get a little more regular around here again. Note: this does NOT mean that my bloke is bad for my blog. My bloke is bad for my internet habit, entire. And this is a Very Good Thing Indeed.