Here's a photo of an unfinished spoon. Actually liked this one so much I was determined to keep it for myself, but some guy made me an offer I couldn't refuse, and he looked like he would be a good home for it. Don't think i've posted a picture of my home before.
Monday, 29 August 2011
But I do mind being a hippocrite.
Its been a strange day! Its been a long day, I got out selling at 9 after an hour and half walk into town. After around eight hours selling I've made £25, it's not much but it'll do.
For the first time I sold a spoon to a big issue seller, it's interesting that a big issue seller will usually make more money than I do. He was surprised, but I know many people, good people, that sell the big issue and they all make more money than I do. Much of that money will be spent on drink or heroin, but that is not all sellers, and I don't see those "addictions" in a different light to all of our "addictions".
In a good day buskers can make anything up to £100/hr, in a city it would be unusual for a busker to make less than £60 in a day.
One of the really beautiful things about my life is the relationship I have with other people on the street. Whether they are rich patronising people buying my spoons, or wonderful people i've met last year who have bought a spoon before and would like another one not to support me but because they want a spoon, I love my chats with street cleaners, market stall holders, town criers, buskers, the nice man in the pasty shop, they are my community and I love them. I would like to share more with you about these people.
Anyone that knows me knows I likes the coffee, and I tend to sit in a cafe like I am right now to charge my phone, use their toilet, fill my water bottle. I find I am much more comfortable in a big chain than a small independent, I am more likely to get away with being here for a while after i've finished my drink to charge my phone, and less notable in a busy place with air conditioning, particularly if I smell, when I look rough I am less likely to be treated badly too. The price is also considerably cheaper, I have just eaten two rounds of chicken and stuffing sandwiches for 65p from the reduced shelf in tesco.
I hope I have never billed myself as some kind of hero, I definitely don't feel like one. Though I feel like I am winning, is it to the detriment of others? Am I just one big disappointment?
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
It was interesting the point they made about the skill involved and at what stage of creation the skill is used. There is rivalry between those that use stencils and those that spray freehand. I much prefer the simple symbolic freehand examples such as the one below from the bristol bath cycle path.
I love the stereotypes that cross my path (or maybe I cross theirs).
I have had a great month taking it easy in old haunts and took this photo in one of my favorite places. The lady in the photograph is feeding the pigeons. I saw her last summer doing the same thing, this year I asked if I could take her photo. She told me of how hungry they are, its because the council keeps everywhere too clean theres no crumbs for them. I love that she feeds the pigeons.
Funny things birds, I know very little about them. in the past I have grown tired of people/greenies that I meet going on about them. I think the assumption that I care about the environment any more than a regular joe irritates me, we all make assumptions though -we can't help it.
having said that there have been times when birds have sunk deep into my mind. Before the real onset of my spoon obsession I got caught in a moment using a beautifully worn turned wooden spoon to pluck eggs out of the pan they were hard boiling in. The simple task of fishing out one egg at a time with this perfect humble spoon overwhelmed me with completed focussed joy, I was consumed in the moment, I was so content.
Chicken or egg? My love of eggs came well before my love of chickens, but over the last 12 months I have become a big fan of those beautiful egg making machines. At a friends woodland where they are well set up I had the job of taking the scraps down to the chickens on a loverly summers evening, again I was lost in a moment, a simple task a sense of satisfaction. Having the space in my mind to experience these simple things, without using rational thought, has been a lifelong need, the more space I have for these experiences the happier I am.
I am in london now and it was here that I saw a group of six or so children around the age of five chasing pigeons. I was carving spoons by marble arch, and this motley crew of boys and girls had self assembled in an anarchic co-ordinated hunting party, as if instinct prevailed the children running like driven maniacs attempted to divide and conquer the flocking birds at once huddled together and then airborne again. A strange energy surged through the children the look on their faces as they hurtled towards the pigeons is etched on my mind.
Birds have obvious symbolism in our cultures, for a while I was obsessed.with the image of a bird in a cage. There is a fantastic bit in the film The Prestige where the illusion of the bird in the cage vanishing is revealed for what it really is.
whilst hitching the other day I saw a pigeon wing beautifully displayed on a busy A road stretched out on the hot tarmac the rest of its body nowhere to be seen.