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  1. by Amanda Harlech .

    Shropshire

    Gales, floods last week. Wind sucked down the chimney. House full of smoke. Hacked smoke alarms off ceilings with a screw driver. Telephone line out of action and the kitchen turning to stone as the wind blew the Aga out. And always the howling and moaning insistent wind picking and pulling at the windows and doors. Lost my balance. Couldn't hear, smell, see. The horses were wild, calling to each other in panic sensing the river rising up through the ground. For three days and nights I twisted and fretted. Awake, reading The Cat's Table at 3am, I realised the power of the writer's art to create another world. I inhabited the Oronsay. It's a brilliant book. Then the wind dropped. Epiphany. I started making a giant pagan egg - a sort of virginal momento mori with crowns of dried wild flowers and a pressed rose like staunched blood. Need to paint more flowers and then throw something at it. I've gessoed ripped lace on the bottom of the egg. I think it needs Miss Lasqueti's scar - her rage at the man who took her and tried to suck all that was her out of her- who turned back her hand holding the scissors and drove it into her stomach.

    Today is the day of sending off an edit after weeks of stalling to my editor. Three new chapters and I still haven't linked up the narrative . For some reason the plot keeps sliding off sideways - but I will get there.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      23:17 15 Jan 2012
      all is pretty...

      | e e
    Comment
  2. by Amanda Harlech .

    Happy Christmas.

    Happy Christmas. Childish thoughts of the fairy at the top of the tree reaching down and transforming the forgotten shabby doll at the back of the toy cupboard into a princess. At the stroke of midnight on Christmas eve all the animals can talk for one minute - I've always wanted to stand on the yard and listen to the horses and the foxes. Sleet erased hills and a north wind. I feel like an innuit witch as I duck against the blast to fetch the wood or scabble for some sprouts - cold as bolts - in the garden.

    Recent comments

    1. ericesquire
      16:16 19 Dec 2011
      **happy christmas**

      |e e
    2. ericesquire
      19:49 27 Dec 2011
      although peaceful - dark sky and clouds with a glimpse of light breaking through.

      |e e
    Comment
  3. by Amanda Harlech .

    Before dawn...

    Woke before dawn. Anxious about RA auction tonight. Feel very protective about my painting of a man in a bath. I will put a reserve of ten quid on it and hope to take it home tomorrow. Dutch Master winter sky, a tree line like an old fox and a pair of cock pheasants eyeing each other bright and coppery in the grass. Hard to leave.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      14:12 12 Dec 2011
      best of luck.

      |e e
    Comment
  4. by Amanda Harlech .

    Nuit Blanche

    Haven't slept for days. Last night instead of post show blackout I had a nightmare that I had been given two minutes to live. Two girls had guns. Rei Kawakubo was watching herself on a television somewhere in the house - she knew I knew it was her as a little girl - maybe 8 years old. She had nothing to do with my imprisonment by the two gun girls. I woke up far too early and now suitcase packed, Ritz room dismantled, that nightmare of not being able to persuade somebody to give me longer to live holds on to me. Train metaphor? Eurostar? Train on the set? Going mad.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      20:42 7 Dec 2011
      the boy in me glows...

      |e e
    Comment
  5. by Amanda Harlech .

    Paris - 6th December 2011

    Chanel's show date for its metiers d'art spirit of India, Paris - Bombay.

    The set at the Grand Palais is an elegant Moghul palace hung with chandeliers. A vast table piled with roses, tiers of fruits the colour of an 18c miniature, gilded glass and ropes of tuberoses. A silver train carrying decanters chugs around the perimeter of the table cloth. Karl has created his other world with genius set designer Stephen - alias Lulu.

    Recent comments

    1. alex.fury
      11:49 7 Dec 2011
      Oh my good Lord! This is incredible. Another world I'd love to live in, for sure.
    2. S
      11:59 7 Dec 2011
      Edie is great, love her blog AMA too
    Comment
  6. Recent comments

    1. alex.fury
      10:28 6 Dec 2011
      Ah, I read about this and thought immediately of you. Where next?
    2. ericesquire
      19:41 6 Dec 2011
      I like your case - who's the maker?

      compliments

      eric esquire
    Comment
  7. by Amanda Harlech .

    Paris...

    The rancour of romance in Paris. But it could be sweeter than it looks.

  8. by Amanda Harlech .

    Nomad

    Waiting to be shut down on flight to NYC. Nomadic. Very alone.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      11:45 14 Nov 2011
      alone is a kind of luxury - as well...

      e e
    Comment
  9. by Amanda Harlech .

    Dining in Rome....Raining in London

    Nino's -the 1930's panelled restaurant in Rome - best artichokes in the World. Love the attentive starched waiters with brilliantined side partings sneaking bitter chocolate sauce over my vanilla ice cream.

    Smell of charred chestnuts in the streets, bells and seagulls laughing like old women over head.

    Came back to black rain and a band of bagpipes at Euston station. My friend,the Angel of Death was there. A good welcome home.

    Recent comments

    1. Sam McKnight
      13:40 7 Nov 2011
      Your blogs are poetic inspiration, Amanda. Love 'em.
    2. alex.fury
      14:17 7 Nov 2011
      Hear hear Mr McKnight!
    3. CarrieScott
      10:08 8 Nov 2011
      I second that emotion!
    4. ericesquire
      15:55 8 Nov 2011
      it's all about contrasts...

      e e

    5. ericesquire
      15:56 8 Nov 2011
      never been to ninos - must go now after reading this.

      e e
    6. john
      11:08 10 Nov 2011
      yes please more blogs from Amanda !
    7. ericesquire
      20:15 10 Nov 2011
      Yes, please more from amanda...

      e e
    Comment
  10. by Amanda Harlech .

    In Rome...

    A murmuration of starlings swarm in the dusk over Rome. Followed the sound of birdsong and found singing trees leaved with birds...

  11. by Amanda Harlech .

    A sense of the Past

    Went into the bowels of the Royal Academy on Saturday and discovered the drawing schools - a sense of the past - ghosts - and the very real acts of making that take place there every day. Strange feeling of "coming home". Going to try and sign up for a course.

    On my way to Rome this morning - overcast heart. When I come back all the leaves will have fallen.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      20:42 8 Nov 2011
      yes, the pics makes it very tempting to attend - cool interior

      e e
    Comment
  12. by Amanda Harlech .

    By the sea...

    Day one of Chanel ad campaign.

    The weather switches on for Karl. Elemental Chanel by the sea.

    I'm knackered after art party at VIP for Karl last night and an early flight to Nice this morning.

    Going to swim in sea.

     

  13. Comments

    1. ericesquire
      11:03 23 Nov 2011
      yes - paris grey sky makes one calm...

      e e
    Comment
  14. by Amanda Harlech .

    Last of the roses

    Last gold before Winter's dark approach. Last of the roses. So many other things that I should be doing but I am drawn back to the garden and its passing splendour. I just sit and watch.

    Recent comments


    1. 18:22 17 Oct 2011
      how beautiful!
    2. Dreamer
      22:47 19 Oct 2011
      There's nothing quite like the colours of autumn. Waking up for warm sunshine, a walk by the the creek, watching dogs chasing around, the horses peacefully wondering around, the sound of the piano and a glass of red wine. All little puzzles of life falling to place as nature calms you down.
    Comment
  15. by Amanda Harlech .

    Home

    Crawled back from Paris and crashed. I feel incapable. Desk piled with accusations - so much undone or not even started. bad night after bad night. Wind banging the house.

    Comments

    1. ericesquire
      09:37 30 Nov 2011
      home sweet home...

      eric esquire
    Comment
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