tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109340954228668562024-02-21T13:58:02.489+02:00Nixi's PixPainting ... Such fun!Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-9660041732443719182011-10-27T18:09:00.000+02:002011-10-27T18:09:14.388+02:00The Dress<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It has been more than two months since my last post, and believe me, it was two months during which I have aged considerably. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The reason?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Dress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My daughter is in her final year of school, and as the year draws to an end, the time has come for her Matric Farewell Ball, known as a Prom in other parts of the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My sweet little angel has some very strong points of view, but when it came to deciding on her dress (2 months before the event), she did not really know what she wanted - neither colour nor style. When her date's mother asked about the colour of the dress, so that HIS outfit could be co-ordinated with hers, she had to decide quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There were some unnegotiable "don't's":</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Strapless - dangerous and dodgy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Seams on the bodice - its ugly</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Naked back - the guy must not feel weird touching her when they dance</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Too short - no feet showing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Too shiny</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And some "do's":</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Unique</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Organic</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Comfortable</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Beautiful</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Youthful</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Femine</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I must make it</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">If ever you had done sewing, you might see some problems developing here, but lets continue...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Design being part of her DNA, Nina's ideas started flowing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... the bodice must look as if it is wrapped around her body left over right ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... the skirt must have varying layers of soft, flowy fabric, like a flower ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... beautiful and unique shoulder straps ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... tiny, rounded little waves on the bodice ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... laced-up back, but delicate laces. And only a hint of skin...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... sexy, but not revealing ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ja well no fine!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then came the colour.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She considered champagne, but that did not do her skin tone justice. So we set out on a colour-hunt, and after quite a search, we found the most beautiful chiffon. She had to choose between two tones: a golden fabric with a coppery sheen, and a coppery fabric with a golden sheen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Being Nina, she immediately saw the possibilities: if we used both in the dress, it would add depth and interest to the design.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So we bought both.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The only thing that remained to be sourced, were her unique shoulder straps. Nina suggested that we buy bridal lace and colour it, but I felt that it might be easier to ask somebody to crochet the straps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Combining fabric and all the ideas, this was more or less what Nina envisioned:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrLFY9O1C1yzL813Q_QfNkLaHK3_OB-aMFr13tC7H5i05mktIK800hpC2Rq0LZSy8pk7hNFieQx76QKm9oC0zELsPdpXfSLAxxk6tRLhorQRq7oF49QKKIf4uwlA8YTRGjpwz4Ai1mhMU/s1600/DSC_0647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrLFY9O1C1yzL813Q_QfNkLaHK3_OB-aMFr13tC7H5i05mktIK800hpC2Rq0LZSy8pk7hNFieQx76QKm9oC0zELsPdpXfSLAxxk6tRLhorQRq7oF49QKKIf4uwlA8YTRGjpwz4Ai1mhMU/s640/DSC_0647.JPG" width="640" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In the meanwhile, I had to start working on the pattern for the dress, as I could not find anything that resembled the above closely enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Oh, by the way, have I mentioned that I am NOT a skilled seamstress?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">First of all, I made a copy of her body using duct tape. I Googled it and found a nice tutorial at </span><a href="http://www.threadsmagazine.com/item/16297/create-a-custom-dress-form"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://www.threadsmagazine.com/item/16297/create-a-custom-dress-form</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> The dressform was not that difficult to make and was way less expensive than a real dressmakers dummy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Unfortunately, I was so scared of squeezing the life out of my child, that I worked a little light-handedly. The dressform was too big and I had to do some reconstructive surgery, resulting in a slightly odd-shaped body-double. At least the most important measurements were correct and I could start working.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I first studied a number of youtube clips on "draping". That is, the construction of a pattern using a dummy and flat pieces of fabric. I learned a lot and got some really handy hints at </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBtvl1-Wk3k"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBtvl1-Wk3k</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I draped chiffon around the dressform to create a natural flowing shape, and then marked out the shape. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJZs9tRw5gJrnekPc_CUZOTKajswfp_HR97IO6fJRQVBr_0X0S3GnbBAEHc8xeQX5ybzR0sF63BNq_n7jyiQ5CEPdCSqs07rf3chDJ_c8LY7v3pNiFgF3wCIokedTqLUg3ywkaLNbuIY/s1600/DSC_0621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJZs9tRw5gJrnekPc_CUZOTKajswfp_HR97IO6fJRQVBr_0X0S3GnbBAEHc8xeQX5ybzR0sF63BNq_n7jyiQ5CEPdCSqs07rf3chDJ_c8LY7v3pNiFgF3wCIokedTqLUg3ywkaLNbuIY/s400/DSC_0621.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDg5gWzlz_XI3hphjyxZyW-OkPQf8nj6s232QR5tc92KYyxlhco0iDn2X6oNT31yxmpZdYwNLLgVj_ZgGAJu8y3BWgPVgm_vyvFGhmsGxMwNmcX7iffCPp25bJmJJuvLRBjHOQ8Vnx4c/s1600/DSC_0622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDg5gWzlz_XI3hphjyxZyW-OkPQf8nj6s232QR5tc92KYyxlhco0iDn2X6oNT31yxmpZdYwNLLgVj_ZgGAJu8y3BWgPVgm_vyvFGhmsGxMwNmcX7iffCPp25bJmJJuvLRBjHOQ8Vnx4c/s400/DSC_0622.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Next I marked the natural drape of the fabric on the dummy:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4dHcFeUvIEYnKJ4JCEz6MdtSs3BV3LwLM3XmZF9aZko32O_bnZV8R3DVPHIp0aODzLOaqgHcWLEM1zxpoFTEvDCLcuY4uU_B4QzPayx7aJJ44-tNPYwW2l68E2ubgLM6bcF1UK5BgmU/s1600/DSC_0624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4dHcFeUvIEYnKJ4JCEz6MdtSs3BV3LwLM3XmZF9aZko32O_bnZV8R3DVPHIp0aODzLOaqgHcWLEM1zxpoFTEvDCLcuY4uU_B4QzPayx7aJJ44-tNPYwW2l68E2ubgLM6bcF1UK5BgmU/s400/DSC_0624.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxO37cW86CxIjL1Hy6FD7ucqR7DhXztwz0fEj361-nhKrDyb0IPO-GZma8jtKG-6u4wuoKlGExZDYJhlON8JZ5dvivGbxm1bDbiCEzpwIXM0ZO4Zui4dvQzFJRX9gO9btssvvrmTTXyo/s1600/DSC_0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxO37cW86CxIjL1Hy6FD7ucqR7DhXztwz0fEj361-nhKrDyb0IPO-GZma8jtKG-6u4wuoKlGExZDYJhlON8JZ5dvivGbxm1bDbiCEzpwIXM0ZO4Zui4dvQzFJRX9gO9btssvvrmTTXyo/s400/DSC_0627.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">These lines were then enhanced using a thin black silk ribbon pinned onto the dummy. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5p0axgTbCjkl010x_Sc3GJqlEbYVzgOEGct9vPC_d7fTICZTVZAktFhphOqwMn4HZtu6O-vmQo5Irs4OtytJqERGrbWxJ3Yep0ceu-OXDq2DWnJAbFE0Jq3UayuHxJGtdMRXhm8kfxo/s1600/DSC_0628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5p0axgTbCjkl010x_Sc3GJqlEbYVzgOEGct9vPC_d7fTICZTVZAktFhphOqwMn4HZtu6O-vmQo5Irs4OtytJqERGrbWxJ3Yep0ceu-OXDq2DWnJAbFE0Jq3UayuHxJGtdMRXhm8kfxo/s400/DSC_0628.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This was done to make the lines visible for the next step, which was draping. I've seen it being done in movies, but have never tried it myself. It worked like a charm:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEihSVrbMdPPmeKARUM1YXBGpkARHHODiHD8FXLXLuuNnO3tLToIhvhi9trvTMG6nGmkfoNINuNYGQiwPXMH8vo174KKYbQnHUSGFajjpPNTHV35_UEnj76h7pe4lUTzwYNU7pfFNpFWw/s1600/DSC_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEihSVrbMdPPmeKARUM1YXBGpkARHHODiHD8FXLXLuuNnO3tLToIhvhi9trvTMG6nGmkfoNINuNYGQiwPXMH8vo174KKYbQnHUSGFajjpPNTHV35_UEnj76h7pe4lUTzwYNU7pfFNpFWw/s400/DSC_0630.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUJqSlcb1UbbP6bjBP5ZaL3WdQWYoupVLYNqsshIsU3W450DInC5AMJDYLY0qbMkWknKcZhiMBv_ge_xBpbrsuJy205tOCJt6hum6MylBm0eNiGWFKPXWPMvGtMyN-6qPJNFeIPymVgw/s1600/DSC_0634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUJqSlcb1UbbP6bjBP5ZaL3WdQWYoupVLYNqsshIsU3W450DInC5AMJDYLY0qbMkWknKcZhiMBv_ge_xBpbrsuJy205tOCJt6hum6MylBm0eNiGWFKPXWPMvGtMyN-6qPJNFeIPymVgw/s400/DSC_0634.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I completed this stage by making the pattern pieces. Remember to add a seam allowance before sewing the pieces together.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxKVJmp_SVbmEQeKO2Hnu3jDp825swOquXXataz1rK76YyXbNLL9AqjRpZA5qJKeUOkulatvc-KR9gv8e2fdhL6yfs1ubDjMGBh42m0cPowMlGCHKc1CZWIWknYc8GLzzV-rKpP3FyM0/s1600/DSC_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxKVJmp_SVbmEQeKO2Hnu3jDp825swOquXXataz1rK76YyXbNLL9AqjRpZA5qJKeUOkulatvc-KR9gv8e2fdhL6yfs1ubDjMGBh42m0cPowMlGCHKc1CZWIWknYc8GLzzV-rKpP3FyM0/s400/DSC_0638.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The pieces were cut out and sewn for the first draft of the bodice. Despite my best efforts (and due to my desire not to squeeze the life out of my darling daughter when I made the dummy), some adjustments still had to be made. This was easy to fix, though.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl4ynCN89r1-p_6hCNXJZ3CVej9np2ZTISdq73nPOcY6jYJ3S1lSMBy8juyPL2dRXTHmBjP-yosmBknNwCKGDNWgYdDR582UDRZYfzbXskb1HoqIIYZnfCVJVcw9u4YK_1bWc55Zy9S0/s1600/DSC_0643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl4ynCN89r1-p_6hCNXJZ3CVej9np2ZTISdq73nPOcY6jYJ3S1lSMBy8juyPL2dRXTHmBjP-yosmBknNwCKGDNWgYdDR582UDRZYfzbXskb1HoqIIYZnfCVJVcw9u4YK_1bWc55Zy9S0/s400/DSC_0643.JPG" width="265" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Happy with the fit of the bodice, I could start with the real McCoy! Note that it consists of two separate pieces.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Oh, and you might remember that seams on the bodice was a definite no-no ... Patience, me hearties! All will be revealed!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Firstly, I made the two bodice pieces using orange satin as lining. While she initially wanted something more muted, the colour worked really well with her creamy skin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And THEN ...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0vgpmkqSQTVnNoIcvYjfGDjP3lNiRyHlT0hLF77hIl59hZ491Z6q9Ijcq2Qyd2I04XPc2CVxN7XDAcofEvN1VAVM0An5znt3glCvVuEEP4ieNDV1JQTtH8hB-kodK1LBi1uEZM6nZwY/s1600/DSC_0742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0vgpmkqSQTVnNoIcvYjfGDjP3lNiRyHlT0hLF77hIl59hZ491Z6q9Ijcq2Qyd2I04XPc2CVxN7XDAcofEvN1VAVM0An5znt3glCvVuEEP4ieNDV1JQTtH8hB-kodK1LBi1uEZM6nZwY/s400/DSC_0742.JPG" width="256" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIBgaRxqT3ZIcrxcsyc96ZRG8cYfKdF16snxA5wyHb3U3W_H-jytj-lYdWsia_Zva3Z5GI7rQzb4BpdNxO5h-EYoSFHsw3qqOTCBSCapuXikmdkCh6JwzfPh_yxaeGP-xzETWDptpUe8/s1600/DSC_0743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIBgaRxqT3ZIcrxcsyc96ZRG8cYfKdF16snxA5wyHb3U3W_H-jytj-lYdWsia_Zva3Z5GI7rQzb4BpdNxO5h-EYoSFHsw3qqOTCBSCapuXikmdkCh6JwzfPh_yxaeGP-xzETWDptpUe8/s400/DSC_0743.JPG" width="258" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd2ey0mbyzuvtNdPy4qoMRUFdN8QrM3Y4tHJjnpV5sW3QxMtoVwyH6Bj4v0zJu_z5RBGA1P4MNguvjNkoQARWZZ1uQFsiN5NtUJUOpPzphnN-t4Bp2l_KqJfYkzgLr6-BWtdakB4TGf0/s1600/DSC_0744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd2ey0mbyzuvtNdPy4qoMRUFdN8QrM3Y4tHJjnpV5sW3QxMtoVwyH6Bj4v0zJu_z5RBGA1P4MNguvjNkoQARWZZ1uQFsiN5NtUJUOpPzphnN-t4Bp2l_KqJfYkzgLr6-BWtdakB4TGf0/s640/DSC_0744.JPG" width="424" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... I started pinning the chiffon to the lining, with interfacing as delicate as cobweb between the two layers of fabric.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This literally took weeks!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Logically, one should be able to start pleating the fabric at the top and with a little give and take here and there, end at the bottom. Not so. On more than one occasion I had to remove a whole day's worth of pins and start all over again. (Oh by the way, I bought super-fine - and super-expensive - pins for the job. They did not snag the chiffon and thus made my job a lot easier).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After every 20 cm or so, I fixed the chiffon to the lining using my steam iron. I discovered that the steam blast is enough to melt the interfacing's glue and at the same time press the chiffon to the lining without creating a sharp edge to the little chiffon waves.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8VUDQrZRbyjNSAP0bRc6bk_ydswJSoJLoHPpfO_mue3qR5PtFjSLvQCG6RYkNmnDhKF-creCZAKf9xCEYnJWV79WJyR5MSJMd1ElWu7skQtoYsDucyaTBtUQhSBYlG9zlwLjGrIk-uH0/s1600/DSC_0748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8VUDQrZRbyjNSAP0bRc6bk_ydswJSoJLoHPpfO_mue3qR5PtFjSLvQCG6RYkNmnDhKF-creCZAKf9xCEYnJWV79WJyR5MSJMd1ElWu7skQtoYsDucyaTBtUQhSBYlG9zlwLjGrIk-uH0/s400/DSC_0748.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The result was a seamless bodice. On the photograph the seam on the lining is visible, but eventually it was completely invisible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While this looked pretty enough, I doubted the strength of the bond between the fabric layers. I had to secure it ... and thus began the second phase of the development of the persisting pain in my neck:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP-Mu2bfvJhoq1kUR6dHgGc2Kh_bHe7lBccpXOUOhRANbrE8qngn96TRGqJ03gCCekp0652IRXSxJIciHS5ysF0kDzZ5g3sZDKK-kIP1Y0fJPTL7BhKj5s2x6AblA0wtoRYQKbTalgrE/s1600/DSC_0771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP-Mu2bfvJhoq1kUR6dHgGc2Kh_bHe7lBccpXOUOhRANbrE8qngn96TRGqJ03gCCekp0652IRXSxJIciHS5ysF0kDzZ5g3sZDKK-kIP1Y0fJPTL7BhKj5s2x6AblA0wtoRYQKbTalgrE/s400/DSC_0771.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OR7USElM0vq_NOURB25UtRXhrCLj170FDqT3M0kgX0IAGyIRDtPCtniQ8qnAfqpjxj8MiU0fUhMqz5Y2CkZN5-IhTyDWu7dyivcVKiS_hGS5faJN-lkpIXnmDe9myOZ0wlvCnW1GCvw/s1600/DSC_0772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OR7USElM0vq_NOURB25UtRXhrCLj170FDqT3M0kgX0IAGyIRDtPCtniQ8qnAfqpjxj8MiU0fUhMqz5Y2CkZN5-IhTyDWu7dyivcVKiS_hGS5faJN-lkpIXnmDe9myOZ0wlvCnW1GCvw/s640/DSC_0772.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Next step was to finish the bodice. The two pieces were each lined pillow-case style: Sew another layer on inside-out, turn it outside-out and close the gap. Then the two bodice pieces - each in a different colour chiffon, were sewn together at the back. I put a "ribbon" of bra eyelets, which I have coloured using silk paint, between the two pieces:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeyPyO0Nk-107Lh3okGGQthMdT_oMKLbn0l04DcCaJ8RkPLs2Bvh39MjsAGeCRLDmb_8lQiPovZDCEeQo9NfOOJWcYPJQ5S4CpSRuOsRW5zWE-5nKu3GYc1g_S7OaVe11T7ioXA-3tgk/s1600/DSC_0997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeyPyO0Nk-107Lh3okGGQthMdT_oMKLbn0l04DcCaJ8RkPLs2Bvh39MjsAGeCRLDmb_8lQiPovZDCEeQo9NfOOJWcYPJQ5S4CpSRuOsRW5zWE-5nKu3GYc1g_S7OaVe11T7ioXA-3tgk/s400/DSC_0997.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The bodice was now ready for the shoulder straps, but unfortunately, the crocheted straps did not work at all. The problem was the capricious nature of the chiffon. Check this out! The only thing a changed when taking these pictures, was the angle:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D23J7ePUIQ_zZYqXPltpeJ60R21dLFsSSpdc8Fg0kCbIuq-SkEn2v7qkBI_9EzkkeMofkLk3V3WqoPYy12BYLEM1_tRalRJ4jgvtSgsAsZjPC8howdYVSpCx7BWhg59VkfXd_Wda4Ds/s1600/DSC_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D23J7ePUIQ_zZYqXPltpeJ60R21dLFsSSpdc8Fg0kCbIuq-SkEn2v7qkBI_9EzkkeMofkLk3V3WqoPYy12BYLEM1_tRalRJ4jgvtSgsAsZjPC8howdYVSpCx7BWhg59VkfXd_Wda4Ds/s400/DSC_0987.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlLVwACjWynnaHATAtvu5LX7dPwdpf1V2lqG4D6p_CqAY5s2RH7CIVsymDKXS7OsGP7w8whsg2IXM9uAO6uDrH9TLIGlh6WbY7S1FE83DWsXq8MJ5wBLKGOUXH8W77r9mcMm-tL7bXsp0/s1600/DSC_0988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlLVwACjWynnaHATAtvu5LX7dPwdpf1V2lqG4D6p_CqAY5s2RH7CIVsymDKXS7OsGP7w8whsg2IXM9uAO6uDrH9TLIGlh6WbY7S1FE83DWsXq8MJ5wBLKGOUXH8W77r9mcMm-tL7bXsp0/s400/DSC_0988.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So HOW to accommodate all the colours???</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In the beginning, Nina said we should colour bridal lace. Still, a single colour would not do the trick, so we used various colours of silk paint and allowed them to bleed naturally into one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here is a test sample:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuEAD_P_tMgttQOHEqfyT0VFsRDt4tlZGYrtYq9XTHaSuECKuQ7b1fDgGUqLg9A0GJ6je2Lz6mR1c157fK2Pcxy41kGe2gzXN2A9NdriSnD8PDIBYG-ano8D905jI1zEHPCklAbZAU1c/s1600/DSC_0779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuEAD_P_tMgttQOHEqfyT0VFsRDt4tlZGYrtYq9XTHaSuECKuQ7b1fDgGUqLg9A0GJ6je2Lz6mR1c157fK2Pcxy41kGe2gzXN2A9NdriSnD8PDIBYG-ano8D905jI1zEHPCklAbZAU1c/s400/DSC_0779.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Notice the light pinkish fabric at the back. I coloured a piece of white chiffon to match Nina's skin tone. I used the chiffon to stabilize the lace. Here too I used the cobweb interfacing, as well as good ole' needle and thread.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">'Lo and behold, with about a week to go, the bodice was finished!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The rest of the dress was fairly straight-forward. I first made a circle skirt, using the orange satin as a lining. This was topped with four layers of chiffon in alternating colours. I sewed the lining and the first layer of chiffon together on some bias-binding, and then I sewed the other layers together on another piece of bias-binding. The reason for this is that if Nina wants to use the dress again, she might choose to remove the top layers for a somewhat more grown-up look. Or not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And here, dearest ones, is the end result:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr3svsASXGWnlGRNIFQQ7e4VXt72xUWm6Eg35mR589lQtox-2reMfsqTC2o8_CPOHXfKX5jsiAOnbmVtEgyZIWqS1S7YOHAfy2zsE9LusLLYGKOatc_JNhMOV4DoT_Wnf1kjnizeW-EE/s1600/DSC_0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr3svsASXGWnlGRNIFQQ7e4VXt72xUWm6Eg35mR589lQtox-2reMfsqTC2o8_CPOHXfKX5jsiAOnbmVtEgyZIWqS1S7YOHAfy2zsE9LusLLYGKOatc_JNhMOV4DoT_Wnf1kjnizeW-EE/s640/DSC_0898.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbF_UCvIvoSb3kMcpEnHANNxd8bXBn9BCrCSrINBCW6emvBEVO9KkIAW22o0zwHzWzmUVPKc6uvPoDaIXid_AqBt1EfD9px0N5EVxkBKTQPOefJsIn5KGvRZHXU_luhZUUzUEHQhakm0/s1600/Rug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbF_UCvIvoSb3kMcpEnHANNxd8bXBn9BCrCSrINBCW6emvBEVO9KkIAW22o0zwHzWzmUVPKc6uvPoDaIXid_AqBt1EfD9px0N5EVxkBKTQPOefJsIn5KGvRZHXU_luhZUUzUEHQhakm0/s640/Rug.jpg" width="369" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmW-wQldXbIKD0bDv37T2jUQGrPIdbUKH-uPRgeuNpPA8rI1OX_WUgRbf1LZ5UDKgIDFkQVjqh9Ip-FULEKMfNlt1BGyyGeMgjiVx2egmumRQivQgswWVpeHlJ2NuuzFeHSOp8XU6MXLk/s1600/DSC_0793naby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmW-wQldXbIKD0bDv37T2jUQGrPIdbUKH-uPRgeuNpPA8rI1OX_WUgRbf1LZ5UDKgIDFkQVjqh9Ip-FULEKMfNlt1BGyyGeMgjiVx2egmumRQivQgswWVpeHlJ2NuuzFeHSOp8XU6MXLk/s640/DSC_0793naby.jpg" width="488" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And just because I think this is TOO cute for words: Pieter and Nina in 1994 and again in 2011!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyyI7mO47KzinwJlRHn_LX2p44-JLoPOmyaTKFhAj4JPWUWZHtFjm02X3bAoW_BVqhyG_pMJBVnnvFWcpNySTXq-V91BvE-nYLnBdUhSxroUfSZqPW4ZqYdi3YnKugVOeajhqFy1MPJc/s1600/Toeka+tot+nou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyyI7mO47KzinwJlRHn_LX2p44-JLoPOmyaTKFhAj4JPWUWZHtFjm02X3bAoW_BVqhyG_pMJBVnnvFWcpNySTXq-V91BvE-nYLnBdUhSxroUfSZqPW4ZqYdi3YnKugVOeajhqFy1MPJc/s640/Toeka+tot+nou.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">♥</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-66937098965060030512011-07-20T13:21:00.000+02:002011-07-20T13:21:33.300+02:00So what, I am a rock star!<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While working on my Sintra painting, my thoughts frequently wandered to those few weeks in Portugal. How different it was to what I was used to here in South Africa!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We visited the country shortly after Portugal had joined the European Union in 1989, and the country was only just awakening from its Socialist sleep. Although the dark, petite Portuguese women are breathtakingly beautiful, the fashion at the time apparently prescribed rather drab dresses, turning them into demure little hens. Or maybe it was the remants of the political regime that they were emerging from.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Nevertheless, picture this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am not a tiny woman. I am, in fact, only one inch short of the good ole' six foot yardstick for extremely tall women. And I am blonde. AND, at the time, the perm was all the rage. To top it all, I have a rather flamboyant side to me: I love colour and all things bright and beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So here I was in this small town called Oeiras, where Hubby was attending the workshop at the Gulbenkian Institute. Having nothing else to do on my own, I decided to explore the "real Oeiras" - not the picture perfect beach where half of Europe flock in the summer months. I did it on foot. I did not understand the road signs, but I thought that "Centro" might mean the centre of town, so I followed the signs.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">* * * * * Interruption * * * * *</span></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sorry for the interruption, but this is so cool, I just have to share it!</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While scouring the internet for images of what the setting of my story looked like, I came across a wonderful blog with the most beautiful pictures: Oeiras and Environs Daily Photo by JM </span><a href="http://www.oeirasdailyphoto.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://www.oeirasdailyphoto.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> . A certain set of photographs took me right back to that day, as it managed to captured the atmosphere almost exactly. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://oeirasdailyphoto.blogspot.com/2008/12/rua-das-alcssimas.html"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://oeirasdailyphoto.blogspot.com/2008/12/rua-das-alcssimas.html</span></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2MFqo4aUKxuMuqGOO4Kk9ij_qwSJkwq6aYpGNbGdg99qDhCa1p4rkyhh9D_uqIp0tUK8_tNif4wimf2xEscQbnmcHQDIS5gZtgJyGSlAjl0Fd-OCp6_2-j8hPvXKT7aYeBh9lIiQq1Y/s1600/DSC01432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2MFqo4aUKxuMuqGOO4Kk9ij_qwSJkwq6aYpGNbGdg99qDhCa1p4rkyhh9D_uqIp0tUK8_tNif4wimf2xEscQbnmcHQDIS5gZtgJyGSlAjl0Fd-OCp6_2-j8hPvXKT7aYeBh9lIiQq1Y/s320/DSC01432.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TyBv5YBOHYSJGAcZn_8nUpbxIDNtPg7uTF-H0_bn5M1BmHVX3kdzcD_ndq2j7ZRsAUJaL_k2EzgRE00Dgh8TGaEH7DCwA8e4YlrjbYJFaosenqs3AbnhLRjkE1ntfGwlHa_8Xyn5jfQ/s1600/DSC01433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TyBv5YBOHYSJGAcZn_8nUpbxIDNtPg7uTF-H0_bn5M1BmHVX3kdzcD_ndq2j7ZRsAUJaL_k2EzgRE00Dgh8TGaEH7DCwA8e4YlrjbYJFaosenqs3AbnhLRjkE1ntfGwlHa_8Xyn5jfQ/s320/DSC01433.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU55Fs4z7H1zEDLXB1Nf73zChCnxwVHFOPEEJ-Ho1dxYDYSBZ4WhbpNRaFr1GcLa1sLzROvyoCJRs2F0w4-jPxR95OwL7nvh64m0xPN0tUCU3M2u8wYYTRLlPMUg-38EltPn_Qp7rZ39U/s1600/DSC01434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU55Fs4z7H1zEDLXB1Nf73zChCnxwVHFOPEEJ-Ho1dxYDYSBZ4WhbpNRaFr1GcLa1sLzROvyoCJRs2F0w4-jPxR95OwL7nvh64m0xPN0tUCU3M2u8wYYTRLlPMUg-38EltPn_Qp7rZ39U/s320/DSC01434.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgataEOdDEYtTZDd3iBywAKb9cN2ce8FvrA0WHsPY1dEIBB0EUOj5Sv6UvWCJP1t8G7dQWO6nSr5P1sL_ZPDTTnxxaHtfviJxIc29CCbNqXnVxJWOWCUalpkpsaZkByA3PFW-Glon58LvA/s1600/DSC01430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgataEOdDEYtTZDd3iBywAKb9cN2ce8FvrA0WHsPY1dEIBB0EUOj5Sv6UvWCJP1t8G7dQWO6nSr5P1sL_ZPDTTnxxaHtfviJxIc29CCbNqXnVxJWOWCUalpkpsaZkByA3PFW-Glon58LvA/s320/DSC01430.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Being terminally curious, I searched for "Rua das Alcassimas" on Google Maps, and lo and behold, this very street was right there where I have walked that day! I remember (and please note this was more than 20 years ago) walking from the Gulbenkian Insitute away from the beach along a fairly wide road, which curved to the right! Isn't nature wonderful? :D</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">* * * * * End of Interruption * * * * *</span></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Anyway ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Speeding along with my wild blonde curls exclaiming to high heaven, and my extremely loud dress with its huge yellow, red, pink, blue, green ... and black! ... flowers fluttering in the breeze created by my giraffe-like strides, I tackled the roads less travelled in Oeiras.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I never found the centre of town, but my peripatetic journey took me through narrow lanes where ordinary people lived in quaint red-roofed dwellings, adorned with the typical blue tiles so well-known and loved in Portugal.</span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There were quite a number of people in the street, that day ... the day the crazy blonde she-giant clown from outer-somewhere giraffled through town.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">For those few long minutes, the street came to a standstill.</span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The only sound was the measured rhythm of my footsteps, and the ever-present chirping of sparrows who clearly had seen it all. Either that, or they were laughing their feathery little asses off at the spectacle ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">People stood still, literally like statues, frozen by the sight before them. The only things that moved, were their heads, as they - ALL of them - followed my progress through their world.</span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had never before, or since, experienced anything like that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">For a while, I felt like a rock star.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This incident of the mesmerized little chickens from Oeiras and the flambouyant female from Africa served as inspiration for my next painting, which I called "Rock Star" because of the resemblance of my "main character" to rockers like Rod Steward and David Bowie.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgyXXK3gcXsr9jp8aS90WrctY4fRiKGsA-8-PnYarln51LL6fbtgdV9FtHwTLYK-pq2cuf2nZvEpm9qElDCn95UzQdX0pw0oK1NYufh5KT__BactQCVYe8HLqd1t1xRS1wEhEhArFSGU/s1600/rodstewart02+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgyXXK3gcXsr9jp8aS90WrctY4fRiKGsA-8-PnYarln51LL6fbtgdV9FtHwTLYK-pq2cuf2nZvEpm9qElDCn95UzQdX0pw0oK1NYufh5KT__BactQCVYe8HLqd1t1xRS1wEhEhArFSGU/s1600/rodstewart02+%25281%2529.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Rod Steward</span></td></tr>
<><><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaTReYYAFlQHbeRZ67_JLojEQ6H0SboWeNCpVj-9eBfGqS6NNCFZlKes0oeCbCPGWOy66E50f_2r1W4S7dikotbdMPMfsZdKw6svxW_FH0k0UJ_8ICkmJI3L3QMsLIi4AfaBxtH36h7g/s1600/labyrinth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaTReYYAFlQHbeRZ67_JLojEQ6H0SboWeNCpVj-9eBfGqS6NNCFZlKes0oeCbCPGWOy66E50f_2r1W4S7dikotbdMPMfsZdKw6svxW_FH0k0UJ_8ICkmJI3L3QMsLIi4AfaBxtH36h7g/s320/labyrinth.jpg" width="217" /></span></a></td></tr>
<><><> </>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">David Bowie</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The last piece of my Rock Star painting was a bit more contrived. When we visited Lisbon, the famous Alfama area made me extremely uncomfortable. I just couldn't shake the feeling that it must me morally wrong to walk through this utterly impoverised part of the city, ooh-ing and ahh-ing about how "beautiful" and "cute" it is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVE_-B8XavP-qdr4-8cUxNf9aFWxqm7Q_UARHFRBHOC2TmtPXf9n0jJZR2s9P9P8p5M2TiTYcHAC0gaLnGaEueKp74dAokaFBQQJrMpBY79dgiW5f86-xdYonfLmuQZR9u3LzYbYNGTIs/s1600/Lissabon-Alfama-706+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVE_-B8XavP-qdr4-8cUxNf9aFWxqm7Q_UARHFRBHOC2TmtPXf9n0jJZR2s9P9P8p5M2TiTYcHAC0gaLnGaEueKp74dAokaFBQQJrMpBY79dgiW5f86-xdYonfLmuQZR9u3LzYbYNGTIs/s320/Lissabon-Alfama-706+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<><><> </>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sights-and-culture.com/Portugal/Lisbon-Alfama-706.html"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">http://www.sights-and-culture.com/Portugal/Lisbon-Alfama-706.html</span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Why Alfama bothered me, while the decay of Oeiras, or even Carcavelos where we stayed did not, I do not know. Maybe because Alfama's decay is a popular tourist attraction, while the others just were what they were, without making any tour operator rich ... Anyway, we hot-heeled it out of Alfama.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When I searched for a Portuguese background for my Rock Star, I saw pictures of the beautiful red building in Alfama and I loved it! It is the Museum of Decorative Art at the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">Miradouro das Portas do Sol, and I regret that I did not know about it or visited it when I had the opportunity! <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s-lUulH6AkEfYdl_qebvTyajISloZ4UtijEzEpWyiirq4qM3lEgTevoyxgpjlc1jAqhVt0juGVxfdSzyUK0Z_om0roo85R0bMw1BLepPLTSnT0TSmTybgxMQa00tT8Hs-cBQyhh-2FM/s1600/askme7036+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s-lUulH6AkEfYdl_qebvTyajISloZ4UtijEzEpWyiirq4qM3lEgTevoyxgpjlc1jAqhVt0juGVxfdSzyUK0Z_om0roo85R0bMw1BLepPLTSnT0TSmTybgxMQa00tT8Hs-cBQyhh-2FM/s320/askme7036+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Miradouro das Portas do Sol</span><br />
<a href="http://www.askmelisboa.com/"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.askmelisboa.com/</span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="center"></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so, dear hearts, this is the result of my meanderings:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJCXrL99ScydhOYhmWP9l4Nl0PLLtleZe6Qmo71q0OM13r4Kq1cHcWzuANBnCP2aj10HmzcBAZh0DFEV1mGN5cbYwyj2dJHTrO3kExogXADfOYWAJWFqUD4g0_YjJyLkyP9kJkcuP-YQ/s1600/Rockstar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJCXrL99ScydhOYhmWP9l4Nl0PLLtleZe6Qmo71q0OM13r4Kq1cHcWzuANBnCP2aj10HmzcBAZh0DFEV1mGN5cbYwyj2dJHTrO3kExogXADfOYWAJWFqUD4g0_YjJyLkyP9kJkcuP-YQ/s400/Rockstar.jpg" width="329" /></span></a></td></tr>
<><><> </>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Rock Star</em></span></td></tr>
<><><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">♥</span></strong></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-70499539788610716182011-06-27T18:44:00.000+02:002011-06-27T18:44:56.533+02:00On the slippery slopes of SintraMany moons ago, I accompanied my hubby when he attended a workshop in Portugal. <br />
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Oh, how I love Portugal! <br />
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We took the bus to Sintra, a fairytale village in the Serra de Sintra (Sintra Mountains). The village, which is about 30 kilometres from Lisbon, is on the Unesco World Heritage list for its Romantic 19th century architecture.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3FohRD_jY3-qRe2Zg0RV94-dmYIqYbAm-Dx5eUrnP8fTjbaBm1YdAtWY3wTW7JzFuUrRhiQ1EoJo1L5Pywd9ZOE2QGvtv_wW7qtbsyQuVP0pxcj3eoE9lXaZWSjoP_Zi7E-ztU9Hyuo/s1600/cbd3a929eea828262e7d7913f0e0f0f6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3FohRD_jY3-qRe2Zg0RV94-dmYIqYbAm-Dx5eUrnP8fTjbaBm1YdAtWY3wTW7JzFuUrRhiQ1EoJo1L5Pywd9ZOE2QGvtv_wW7qtbsyQuVP0pxcj3eoE9lXaZWSjoP_Zi7E-ztU9Hyuo/s400/cbd3a929eea828262e7d7913f0e0f0f6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://realtravel.com/dp-16783-0-sintra_photos"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://realtravel.com/dp-16783-0-sintra_photos</span></a></td></tr>
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</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>It was such a glorious summer day - quite hot and humid - but so pretty. We walked and walked and walked, exploring every last nook and cranny. At long last, when we could hardly walk anymore, we discovered a pretty alley consisting of a long flight of stairs.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAvy5oiXwlzAotuskg6-NDfVTcat6SRGz1ctugs_92Lh4aE4ShHmAmbbvbPd41NgwF3HQEmd5KWLubRIVughCwzjQihSIhwUnSfVx2uPMLmGfCZd91TJ3RHL_GUH0UdGqIBApHUn7kxY/s1600/sintra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAvy5oiXwlzAotuskg6-NDfVTcat6SRGz1ctugs_92Lh4aE4ShHmAmbbvbPd41NgwF3HQEmd5KWLubRIVughCwzjQihSIhwUnSfVx2uPMLmGfCZd91TJ3RHL_GUH0UdGqIBApHUn7kxY/s400/sintra.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/brainspiration/371525504/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/brainspiration/371525504/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Hubby decided that this was where he would play photographer and take pictures of his young wife traipsing down the stairs. Which is fine, but it was in the pre-digital age, where you didn't just shoot away. You had to plan, and be patient.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">So with knees a bit wobbly after a long day's sightseeing, I ran up the stairs and lightly floated downwards, all the while smiling prettily at the colourful surroundings and pretending that I did not feel extremely awkward.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
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</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">When I reached the bottom, hubby said: "Would you mind doing it again? I didn't get a picture."</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">So I turned around and scampered up the steps to the top. Merrily, I ambled down again.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">"Uhm ... nope. Please try again."</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Without much ado, I walked up again, to the top. And dooown I came again.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Hubby smiled patiently. "Lets try one last time, please?"</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">I marched back up, slowly and deliberately putting my feet on every step on the way down.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Only to be greeted with one of those puppy-eyed stares. </span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">"I promise this will be the very last time."</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Up I stomped, and halfway down I demanded: "Why don't you just take the damn picture? What is wrong?"</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">With the tact of the Dalai Lama, he declared: "Girl, you <em>really</em> look hot and bothered!"</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Incredibly, it is 21 years later and we are still married!</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">After I did the painting of the chickens in Paris, I thought that it migt be fun to do chickens in places that have special meaning for me. I remembered Sintra, and those steps ...</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcRJDed8tyEFE5BYdzTzwvaXRbRwwBnQ09jdonu-j6qWJwFTN-YvKHDfp1_yI3hsROk7gSOx9g_4l1lY7WzDDFi5TCfKOssjp9tZooAU7MpeEjh6VlkaPusGTsBG5Hs47WJJqpgBeuRE/s1600/Sintra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcRJDed8tyEFE5BYdzTzwvaXRbRwwBnQ09jdonu-j6qWJwFTN-YvKHDfp1_yI3hsROk7gSOx9g_4l1lY7WzDDFi5TCfKOssjp9tZooAU7MpeEjh6VlkaPusGTsBG5Hs47WJJqpgBeuRE/s640/Sintra.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Galhinas pintadas</em><br />
<br />
(Painted chickens)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Incidently, the chicken at the top of the stairs is my rendition of the famous Portuguese rooster, or <em>O Galo de Barcelos</em> ("the rooster of Barcelos").</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img height="320" id="il_fi" src="http://www.digitaljournal.com/img/6/2/2/9/4/9/i/6/1/4/o/IMG_0124.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="240" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>According to one version of the legend, a wealthy man had a big party. Afterwards, he noticed that his silver cutlery was missing, but to the alarm of the villagers, the culprit could not be found. <br />
<br />
Then one day a stranger passed through town. He was immediately suspect, and was seized by the authorities. Despite all his protestations and explanations that he was on his way to worship a saint in a nearby town, St. Tiago, he was sentenced to death by hanging.<br />
<br />
His last request was to see the judge who had condemned him. He was taken to the house of the magistrate, who was about to enjoy his supper. <br />
<br />
The doomed pilgrim again proclaimed his innocence, and in desperation pointed to the roasted chicken on the table and blurted out: "If I am innocent, this rooster will crow three times." <br />
<br />
Of course everybody laughed at him, yet nobody dared to touch the dish on the table.<br />
<br />
And so off to the gallows he went ... but just as the noose of the hangman's rope slipped over the poor pilgrim's head, the rooster stood up from the platter and crowed. The judge had no choice but to release the pilgrim. <br />
<br />
Many years later the pilgrim returned to Barcelos and erected a monument in praise of St. Tiago and the Holy Virgin. <br />
<br />
To this day, Galo de Barcelos, the symbol of honesty, integrity, trust and honor, still is the national symbol of Portugal.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">♥</span></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-77795691258322962452011-06-18T19:01:00.000+02:002011-06-18T19:01:34.011+02:00A new blog has hatched ...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tadaaa! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here I am, at long last! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today is the first day of a new venture, which I shall share with those who care to follow. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Since childhood, I have always been rather creative. Like gazillions of other little girls, for sure. My creativity resume sounds a little bit like a beauty queen's bio: I love to draw and paint, I love photography, cooking, and sewing. Yeah. Right! I also love animals, reading, dancing, traveling and wish for world peace! So there!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So why blog?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">For some time now, I have been painting pictures, which all end up in a tiny blue room that I use as my guest room. I am not overly fond of displaying my creations in my house, so I contain them in this itsy bity boudoir. Now, however, there are too many of them, and they start collecting on the floor, in stacks resting against the wall.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have to get rid of them, while hopefully earning a few bucks as well. And being <em>completely</em> commercially impaired, I hope that some big name art dealer will notice them and buy them for lots and lots of money! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Like <em>that</em> will ever happen!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">No, what I want to do, is to research different avenues of marketing art online and share them with you. I know quite a number of very talented artists who are just as impaired as I am, and maybe my blog will help them as well. It would be nice if we could create a community of like-minded people and that we will be able to share ideas and encourage one another. Sometimes all we need is a little shove in the right direction ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">A bit about me:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am a happily married 49 year old mother of two: Nina (18) and Marco (15). Before Alf and I even got married, we decided that if we had children, I would stay at home, even if it meant that we had to sip porridge through a straw. So, after a brief career as a reporter at two large newspapers, followed by a stint as the editor of an environmentally minded youth magazine, I became a stay at home mom. Not a housewife. I suck at that. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But, being terminally curious, I soon had to claw my way out of what I call the "poef groef", which is the Afrikaans for "poop rut". You know, that place where you end up when your day consists of feeding Baby, cleaning Baby, burping Baby, cleaning Baby, feeding Baby ... all to the wonderfully stimulating strains of Barney the Dinosaur.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I started painting on silk. In was a huge challenge, but I must have been fairly good at that, for I managed to sell a few of those paintings ... mostly to members of my family, who insisted on paying me when I felt too bad to ask for money. However, I did manage to sell a few at craft markets and even a galery as well! But silk is rather expensive in this neck of the woods (South Africa). In fact, I could not buy it in Bloemfontein where we lived at the time, as it was simply not available.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuO6yzgpRP50QQ5jpRsMuIgdgVvPMWZP7jgR0ZMcCXcAuRFOZBlVb5GE93gD2_b69VFixUyMJIZ8ZKc0U9ZB7GzxlxhTcDF-uu4PQYLA13CpSHHaT3sM3b1BPxjR-5d3Dl_3CDQJUd_k/s1600/Sargent+major+and+soldierfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuO6yzgpRP50QQ5jpRsMuIgdgVvPMWZP7jgR0ZMcCXcAuRFOZBlVb5GE93gD2_b69VFixUyMJIZ8ZKc0U9ZB7GzxlxhTcDF-uu4PQYLA13CpSHHaT3sM3b1BPxjR-5d3Dl_3CDQJUd_k/s320/Sargent+major+and+soldierfish.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Sargeant Major and Soldier Fish. </em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My last silk painting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The badges are from the HMS Birkenhead, which sunk near Gansbaai. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The naval tradition of "women and children first" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">originated </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">during this tragedy.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So I stopped painting and started reading old books that my husband had collected in during his time in the army. I got intrigued by all things military, and even wrote a novel, which I chucked in a bottom drawer after receiving a couple of rejections from agents. Still have to finish that project, though ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I continued this interest by first doing a Master's degree in journalism on propaganda, and eventually, after much pain and suffering, obtaining my PhD. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">During my studies, I took up painting again to relieve my stress. I thought it would go down better if I turned to paint rather than to pot.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I painted.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncd8ULmTuy7zscoUpruQhwF40NC6_5yTtbe7KGjk8FgtDs4V4RmHuPxDzGPa8AvNvCPRtqejwzmKzHiu0_CxkyQ1nLbf9g9AZ0MkQ8r0inAekq7nZbUvDD0u_yC2jEIu5D2Lb8SwhvO4/s1600/sambreel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncd8ULmTuy7zscoUpruQhwF40NC6_5yTtbe7KGjk8FgtDs4V4RmHuPxDzGPa8AvNvCPRtqejwzmKzHiu0_CxkyQ1nLbf9g9AZ0MkQ8r0inAekq7nZbUvDD0u_yC2jEIu5D2Lb8SwhvO4/s320/sambreel.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Red Umbrella</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">While driving to Stellenbosch one late afternoon in the summer, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I saw these three people huddled together under a singe red umbrella. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It was raining and the sky was almost threatening, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">but it was such a happy and vibrant image </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">that I simply had to paint it!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And I painted.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGN8qFfK5liflfSLRgE2N4AGQi9Zmq4Ez9pTwlhMKs-wqsmMeJ1i6i2o3s4SNfUCx_MSmoeiFlkZ7VMuYhMxzoNUqCSHRqcMnoatFA7cbG1KCF_rQbbbHCTu5UiKKgKFQGDMcJdKmwobw/s1600/paternoster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGN8qFfK5liflfSLRgE2N4AGQi9Zmq4Ez9pTwlhMKs-wqsmMeJ1i6i2o3s4SNfUCx_MSmoeiFlkZ7VMuYhMxzoNUqCSHRqcMnoatFA7cbG1KCF_rQbbbHCTu5UiKKgKFQGDMcJdKmwobw/s320/paternoster.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Paternoster Moon</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">While staying at the deliciously stylish Afrikaans author Riana Scheepers's fisherman's cottage, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">we strolled along the beach one afternoon. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Soon the sun set and the full moon rose over this scene, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">painting the landscape in shades of pink, blue and purple</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And I painted.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19eM2kcohyphenhyphenkV9AHNmSluWHNhRq63hbKDhZJQljVLj7VBu3kT4PhnT4MzvOZvOFOxxJSGzktGMC4lihxeoJpxDiGpfO9Mm8l8ugKPemxOwROnaq3Urr3a_X4wxvSvGI4WMzhqEJ_EEO0U/s1600/drie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19eM2kcohyphenhyphenkV9AHNmSluWHNhRq63hbKDhZJQljVLj7VBu3kT4PhnT4MzvOZvOFOxxJSGzktGMC4lihxeoJpxDiGpfO9Mm8l8ugKPemxOwROnaq3Urr3a_X4wxvSvGI4WMzhqEJ_EEO0U/s320/drie.jpg" t8="true" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Then there were three</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I adore the herring gulls found along our coast. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">These three were visitors at the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront in Cape Town. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">My mother-in-law simply told me that she was taking the painting, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and she did! Just like that! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I don't mind, though, as she means so much to me!</span><br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">While I as writing a book on propaganda (yet another unfinished project), I got a very nice and simple idea for binding printed pages into a single volume, without using scissors, glue, </span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">staples, heavy files or punches, I decided to patent this, but to do it, I needed money. Rather a lot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">To make a long story short, I have sold one painting to my long-suffering sister, my husband forked out the money for the still pending patent and I still need someone willing to manufacture my idea.</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And I have a room full of paintings to peddle.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So here we are. What does the future hold? I don't know; I hope the completion of all of my projects.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But I'll keep you posted.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">♥</span></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-7112318566540063202011-06-18T17:52:00.000+02:002011-06-18T17:52:07.207+02:00Long roads, winding roads<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Funny how very few things in my life happen in a purely binary fashion. Very seldom do I get confronted by a clear problem which has a clear solution. Noooo, "moi" has to travel long and winding roads to get to a maybe/sort-of answer.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My painting is one such an example.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have told you how I have started painting (in recent years), but there is still another sub-plot, which I have to tell you about in order to describe my inspiration for a painting that SO many people like! Before I show it to you, I have to tell the story ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While I was working on my PhD, there were loooooong times that nothing happened and that I had to wait and wait for people to respond. During one such an excessively frustrating lull - it was June or July - I attended a writing course presented by Riana Scheepers at the homestead of her stunning wine farm, called De Compagnie, in Wellington. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Never before in my life had I been so inspired! I loved it!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A few months later, Riana held a harvest festival on the farm, to which I was invited. It was such a memorable evening, with the incredibly talented Niel Rademan and Petronel Baard performing music. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Unforgettable!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Anyway, during one song, Petronel danced on the red tiled stoep of the homestead, with her long, dark hair, head thrown back, arms above her head, bare feet, and flowing red dress, enraptured by the music. I wanted to paint it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As I am not too confident about figure studies, I browsed the internet for a picture which could serve as a model.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And then the road started wiiiinding again ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I found some really nice pics, mostly of belly dancers. Yip, I became interested in belly dancing, and actually danced for two years. I still miss it.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Belly dancing is not a dirty thing done by strippers. Well, that is not what it was originally about, although it turned "dirty" in our Western hands. Originally, it was the dances performed by women in a harem to amuse themselves and also to prepare them for child birth, as it strengthens the abdominal muscles like you wouldn't believe!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KoW1PFn8zL0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Pretty, isn't it? Obviously, my level of skill wasn't even 1% of Viktoriya's. But what I lacked in skill, I made up for with enthusiasm.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">By the way, a "harem" also is not at all what we were lead to believe. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"The word has been recorded in the <span style="color: black;">English language</span> since 1634, via <span style="color: black;">Turkish</span> <i>harem</i>, from <span style="color: black;">Arabic</span> <i>ḥaram</i> 'forbidden', originally implying 'women's quarters', literally 'something forbidden or kept safe', from the root of <i>ḥarama</i> 'to be forbidden; to exclude'. ... The 'harem' does not refer to a sanctuary for the wives of a polygynous person. It is simply a resting quarters for women. Female seclusion in Islam is emphasized to the extent that any unlawful breaking into that privacy is <i>ḥarām</i> "forbidden". A Muslim harem does not necessarily consist solely of women with whom the head of the household has sexual relations (wives and concubines), but also their young offspring, other female relatives, etc.; and it may either be a palatial complex, as in Romantic tales, in which case it includes staff (women and eunuchs), or simply their quarters, in the Ottoman tradition separated from the men's selamlık. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It is being more commonly acknowledged today that the purpose of harems during the Ottoman Empire was for the royal upbringing of the future wives of noble and royal men. These women would be educated so that they were ready to appear in public as a royal wife.<sup>"</sup> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thus according to Wikipedia, (which I will not quote in a thesis, but which does give a concise description of most things).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so I danced. I even took along my daughter, who enjoyed it just as much as I did. It is such a girly thing, done by women for women. I loved spending time with women who love to dance and who, like me, did it without wondering what people would think of their less-than-perfect bodies. I loved the colourful costumes ... [sigh] ... I miss those days! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My husband quoted the South African entertainer Nataniël and said "I don't understand anything about it, but it is beautiful - just keep on doing what you are doing!" </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The snake in Paradise came in the form of a teeny tiny woman who made comments about me being a "big girl". It broke that safe bubble, where I could enjoy myself with other big girls, old girls, ugly girls, unco-ordinated girls, girls shaped like caterpillars, grubs or toothpicks. It was a sad day, and it was the beginning of the end of my belly dancing career.</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Wow, now I am wandering along memory lanes that has very little to do with my painting! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Back to my painting ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">One photograph of a dancer captivated me: long, dark hair, head thrown back ... </span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Jamila</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">"Beautiful"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">One day, I'll paint that picture of the singer dancing under the vines ...</span></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-21874675550363807722011-06-18T17:41:00.000+02:002011-06-18T17:41:04.013+02:00Heaven or Hell<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It is winter here in South Africa. Our winters are generally not as harsh as those in the northern hemispere, as we consider -10 °C as very, VERY cold. My friends in Canada and northern Europe only smile knowingly about this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Nevertheless, for us, this is cold. Very cold. Years ago, I lived in Bloemfontein, a small city slap bang in the middle of the country. Bloem has dry weather in winter and the cold is sharp and penetrating. It clamps onto your bones and dries your skin. It was not an unusual thing to still have frost in the shade by noon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here in the Western Cape where I live now, we do not have that kind of cold, because in the wintertime it rains. Were everything is dull and dead upcountry, the grass here is brilliant geen in wintertime. I call it "Hallelujah Green". And I LOVE it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This kind of temperature is of course problematic to the hundreds of thousands of people living in "squatter camps" or informal settlements. Right next to the highway that we have to travel towards Cape Town, lies the sprawling township genreally referred to as Khayelitsha, where the dwellings consist of little boxes of houses built of corrugated iron and tar poles, and "waterproofed" with big sheets of plastic. It is a terrible and dismal place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">When it rains, everything gets wet. And it stays wet. My heart breaks for these people! When the wind wildly moans around the corner of my house and angrily pushes the rain against the windows, I often think of the children in those shacks, who are cold and wet and scared, and more often than not, also hungry and sick. </span><br />
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<div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1419/5512627957_d1b22fddc5.jpg" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nolandstooforeign/5512627957/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">http://www.flickr.com/photos/nolandstooforeign/5512627957/</span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have read a lot about this township. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It has its roots firmly planted in the apartheid policies of decades ago, and the dire circumstances that are present there today are invariably placed at the door of the pre-Mandela government. I was surprised to learn that in the 1980's, Khayelitsha was actually not that bad. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">According to a report on research done at Brown University in the US, The Khayelitsha that was established in the 1980s <em>"</em><span style="font-size: small;"><em>is defined by formal houses on relatively decent sized plots, with wide streets and some amenities ... </em><span style="font-size: small;"><em>Schools are abundant in the neighbourhood – driving around we would often happen upon another concrete (1980s apartheid special) block with spacious, but hard to maintain, grounds. ... </em><span style="font-size: small;"><em>Ultimately, T1 V2 appears to be a 'normalised' township neighbourhood in a superficial sense: it has formal houses, planned streets, plotted yards, piped water, bulk sanitation, electricity, schools, shops (debatable), churches, playgrounds and parks, some street lights, etc. It has all the basics and is established, with 25 years of history." </em><a href="http://www.s4.brown.edu/southafrica/Reports/CapeTown/Khayelitsha.pdf"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.s4.brown.edu/southafrica/Reports/CapeTown/Khayelitsha.pdf</span></a></span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But that is not the Khayelitsha the world knows. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The world only knows the miserable face that it has turned towards the Cape Town International Airport and the N2 highway: colourful boxes containing the lives of close to a million souls - a number which presently grows at a rate of 100 000 per year, as citizens of the breathtakingly beautiful and fertile - yet heartbreakingly poor Eastern Cape flee to this, a latterday promised land ... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Every time we drive past this sea of quaint boxes, with its vibrand washing flapping merrily against sapphire blue skies, goats tippytoeing through emerald fields and barefooted children gleefully kicking brightly coloured soccer balls, I wonder what life is like in the squattercamps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Of course it is extremely hard, unbareably hard, with everybody poor and many sick. But is it JUST hell? If it is, why do the people stay? Why don't they return to the fertile fields of the Eastern Cape? Because maybe, relatively speaking, the hell that they experience here, is heaven compared to what they had left behind?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On the blog <em>Reaching Cape Town </em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(</span></span><a href="http://www.reachingcapetown.com/welcome-to-khayelitsha/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">http://www.reachingcapetown.com/welcome-to-khayelitsha/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">)</span>., Sinoxolo Rasimeni, a resident, says:</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"As with every township, Khayelitsha is faced with many challenges. There is a lot of crime due to poverty, poor educational resources, and alcohol and drug abuse. Children who attend schools in the townships often struggle to speak or understand English, because they are taught in their home language, isiXhosa. This becomes a problem as good job opportunities pass them by, because they cannot communicate well in English. There are also many teenage pregnancies, and a lot of the youth become infected with HIV/AIDS. Sadly, there is also a lot of gang violence. But all these things do not defeat the amazing vibe and energy Khayelitsha has. The locations with poor housing, water, and sanitation still push forward, still have hope that one day their living situation will get better. Khayelitsha is a diverse township, with many different things to offer. New homes continue to be established in Khayelitsha, keeping the spirit of life and energy of this township alive."</span></em></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Somehow, despite the hellish circumstances, there indeed seems to be the belief that maybe someday, they will catch a glimpse of the Angel of Hope ...</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Heaven or Hell</em><br />
<br />
I had so many conflicting thoughs while painting this picture:<br />
The beauty of the landscape with Table Mountain in the background<br />
vs. the squallor of the township in the foreground<br />
Is the goat "evil"? Or is it a source of nourishment?<br />
Is the angel "good", or is she the harbinger of sadness<br />
in this HIV/Aids and TB infested settlement?<br />
It is a bright painting, about a painful subject...</td></tr>
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</div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0Khayelitsha, Cape Town, South Africa-34.0402778 18.677777800000058-34.085175299999996 18.621801800000057 -33.9953803 18.733753800000059tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-710934095422866856.post-49192661862182450462011-06-09T15:13:00.000+02:002011-06-09T15:13:49.680+02:00Nixi's chix pix - how it all began<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A while back, I painted a scene of a woman in a fisherman's cottage, looking out the door. I painted a rooster on the steps ... and this rooster started me on my current path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Colleen, my sweet mother-in-law, nagged me until I gave her the picture for her birthday. She hung it in her apartment and apparently it was a great hit with her friends. She asked me to paint another rooster for one of her friends who oved the painting, which I did. I felt sorry for the poor lonely rooster, so I painted a hen on a separate canvas. The friend loved it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">After a few months, the friend phoned me and said that HER friends love my chickens, and if I still painted chickens. Well, I never actually and intentionally painted chickens, so I thought that it might be a way to earn a little pocket money.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So I painted four ...</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then I got bored.</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Although it took me ages to get it "just right", I felt ... well ... a chicken is a chicken is a chicken. It is sort of crafty, rather than arty, me thinks.</span><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">However, in the process, I looked at masses of chix pix on the internet. Some of them struck me as appearing kind of human. I could just picture the chickens strolling down Rue St Dominique in Paris, sightseeing, while others simply did whatever ordinary chix ... uh ... people would do. Maybe they would be enjoy something to peck at Le Recrutement Cafe, or just went their own merry way ... </span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So I painted it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It took a <em>lot</em> of research and a<em> lot</em> of time, but I think I nailed it. It surely is not "mere craft", but mostly, it still makes me smile!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">THAT is what I like!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span>♥<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Nicolenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11060250275282475940noreply@blogger.com0