Our Art Trip!

So, we basically went to the Botanical Gardens on a school art trip, and I took some photos! They're pretty amazing :P
See for yourself.

My Writer's Block

When I was doing a summer camp over the holidays, we had to write a little bit every day. And the teacher told us that if we couldn't write anything, we should just keep writing this: I have writer's block. I have writer's block. I have writer's block.
That's what I was planning on doing today.
But, of course, if you know me, I won't settle for just any boring old entry, so, today I'm blogging about cool YouTube videos, and blogs to visit!
So, the YouTube videos. Well, I was browsing the web the other day, when I came across a really cool vid about how the famous singers, Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez broke up. Though I'm not that interested in celebrity life, the video was really funny and made me laugh. So if you like the earlier mentioned artists or One Direction, you'll adore this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=gMyKNFqRyQk . BEWARE: Slight censored profanity- occurs once.
And the blogs? Well, my mother's blog- yes, I have a mother, for you sharp yet stupid wits- is pretty amazing. Keep it up, Mama! She's got reviews on loads of restaurants and even an interview with the famous Guy Savoy! So if you're interested in tongue-in-cheek recounts of past events and awesome restaurants, check this out! http://fleetfootedunderthesun.blogspot.sg/ .
An inordinately short post, but it'll have to do for now. Until next time.....

My Art Homework And A Few Daisies

I am going to begin this post with a phrase commonly used by my acquaintances- OMG!!! I really love this photo! It shall reside on my computer as a screensaver until I replace it with my dog!

I'm oddly attached to daisies, for the small reason that there is an exquisite painting in my room depicting a field of daisies. I actually wrote an ekphrastic poem inspired by it:

The poem was supposed to go here, but I lost the sheet of paper it was on. Oops!

Therefore, when my Art teacher, who I'll call here Mrs. &!(^)#%(*, set my class the following homework: 

What image did you stumble upon this week?

Share an amazing photograph, website, artist or artwork that you found that really inspires you.

How did you find it - what attracted you to it? What ideas does it give you?

Create a blog post about this visual find, share the image and link to the website- I will show you how to do this in class.

the image of that lovely painting was brought to mind and I immediately set about the task of 'stumbling' upon several daisy paintings. I felt that nothing else could inspire me, so I 'stumbled' upon as many daisy images as I could. When I finally found the perfect one, I realized that (gasp!) I didn't know how to put it onto the blog! But luckily, with my great store of logic and intellect, I managed to figure it out!

And now, for the homework. If you aren't Mrs. &!(^)#%(* or an art lover to the extreme, I assume that you'll be bored to tears, or extremely exasperated, because I know nothing about famous artists. Whenever I go to galleries, the paintings only make a faint impression on me and I can barely remember what they look like a day later.

So, what attracted me to this image? Well, as I earlier mentioned, I absolutely adore daisies, and daisy chains and such, and I also like sort of Claude Monet style paintings- for I can find no other way to describe this one.

What ideas does this painting bring on when I gaze upon it moonily? Well, it makes me think of Srinagar, as I made a lot of daisy chains when visiting there, and it makes me feel like painting a Japanese watercolor- I have no idea why.

Yippee! One homework down, a dozen more to go!

Bibliography: I got the painting photo from  http://artbyolva.com/Gallery/slideshow.php?set_albumName=Watercolor-Paintings-Large-Format  

The Powers Of Assumption

Here's a funny thing that happened the other day.
I woke up early, for some reason, and, it being a school day, I got out of bed and started to get ready promptly after my mother came in and told me to get my butt out of bed- maybe I'm paraphrasing a little, but in a half asleep state, that's the message that my mind comprehended. My body obeyed, and I jerkily went into the en-suite bathroom to wash up.
Now I should introduce a new character- you may have heard of her before, but I probably did not explain clearly enough exactly who she is. This character is my sister, Fizz, and she is extremely pretty, with soulful brown eyes, silky hair and a waggy doggy tail. You may have been under the misconception that Fizz was a human, but here I've put it right. But, you see, being brought up amongst our pack- sorry, family, she presumed that she too was a human, and therefore acted a lot like one. She still does...
So, anyways, there I was, in the bathroom, sitting on the floor (which was clean, thank you very much) and trying not to nod off, when I heard my mother come into my room. She seemed to be rehearsing what to say to me if she found me still in bed. But here's what really happened.
She came into my room to check on me, and to her horror she saw a figure under the bedsheets! She looked out the window, trying to calm down, and ticked 'me' off well and truly. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw 'my' deep brown eyes looking knowingly at her. Suddenly, I opened the bathroom door.
I looked at my mother. She looked back at me. Then, comprehension dawning on her face, she yelled; "Fizz!".
A tricolor blur shot out of the room from under the blankets, the little dog whom was wrongly ticked off for being me. Suddenly, seized by the hilarity of the moment, I retreated into the bathroom, breaking into a fit of giggle in privacy.

Diwali Disaster

If this sucks, blame yourself. I'm not the one who's forcing you to read this. But here it is- a true account of one of my Diwali misadventures.
I was delivering sweets to family friends. My mother had sent me to @#$%- no, that isn't censored swearing, it's their unit number that I'm keeping private.- so off I went, a little grumpily, it's true, as I had made a few deliveries earlier that had almost resulted in my sister getting crushed under a car. I quickly went to the desired apartment, and the door was opened by an scruffy, elderly French lady in an apron who I assumed was the maid.
"Excuse me, is ......... auntie home?"
To this, she replied haughtily, drawing herself up,
"No, she doesn't live here. I think that she's my neighbor."
I was naturally mortified. It seemed that she was not the maid, but the house owner!
I scurried off to the opposite apartment like a terrified rat. They had some sort of rangoli design at the front, and I took it as a good sign. A Filipina maid opened the door, and when asked where the desired woman was, I was told that she wasn't home. Undeterred, I asked her if she could give the sweets to auntie. She agreed, and asked for my name. I told her, and set off home, feeling pleased with myself, and cheered that I was done with the hated deliveries.
When I got home, I told my mother that she had given me the wrong address, but luckily her daughter was smart enough to find their home, opposite the French lady's home. At this, my mother leapt up, and said in a voice full of horror and foreboding:
"They don't live in that flat!"
Of course, I protested wildly against that accusation that I of all people had done something wrong. Finally, she convinced me that I really was wrong, and I outright refused to go and take the package away and to its rightful owner. But, lo and behold, an unlikely heroine appeared in the form of my auntie, @#$%^&*#. And no, that wasn't censored swearing either, that was practicing the noble art of keeping a name private.
@#$%^&*# is Filipina, and, assuming that the house owners didn't come home, she would be able to talk us out of the mess I had put us in. Even thought I flatly refused to accompany her, my mother was more insistent than me, and she claimed that the maid would give it back more promptly upon recognizing my beautiful face. So, armed with @#$%^&*#, off I marched to the apartment.
My uncle later commented humorously that what if, upon reaching and ringing the doorbell, the maid opened the door and was caught in mid bite of our lovely sweets? I had laughed at the suggestion but for a while my mind was in turmoil, imagining what would've happened if that had happened.
Anyways, in the elevator, who did I run into but the son of ........ auntie! Upon seeing him, I groaned loudly and collapsed against the elevator wall with a cry of "Oh, I'm so stupid!" When asked why, I narrated my sorry story. He got off on the ..th storey, a storey below the fiasco flats. I deduced, using my Holmes-esque intuition, that he lived directly beneath the French lady's flat.
We reached the wrong- or in this case right- apartment. In a jabbering whirlwind of Tagalog, I was swept down the stairwell, carrying the prized sweets.
I gave them to the boy when he answered the door, saying: "These are the sweets I was talking about. Happy Diwali."
So you can assume that it was a dejected and tired girl that made her way home that fateful Diwali evening.