Sunday 22 September 2013

Silly money


In the garden next to the palace in Sevilla as the sun went down, H.I. spotted this combination of palm, moon and blackbird, and asked me to snap it on my crap phone camera for future reference back home. This will be her next painting I think (she is making a drawing now as I write), so don't go breaching copyright by making one of your own, eh? You might be hearing from my solicitors.

H.I. has been painting palm trees for about 40 years or more now. She never seems to tire of them. As a result of this arboreal obsession, she was once asked to contribute to a mixed exhibition entitled, 'The New Orientalists'.

I have a feeling that this exotic streak in her is a result of being brought up in a tiny terraced house in Sheffield with an outside lavatory and no bathroom. Yes, she really did have a bath in a tub by the fireside every friday, but only after her father had one beforehand. Later, they had a bath fitted, and I don't know if this changed their lives much at all.

As soon as she was old enough, she ran down to London just as the Swinging Sixties began, and her Yorkshire accent became a fashionable asset as kitchen-sink dramas took hold in the South of England.

Whatever money she had was spent on clothes - good clothes - and she worked hard as a waitress when at college in order to buy them. She is still obsessed with good clothes to this day, and I really don't think that our contents insurance would cover the replacement of her wardrobe, should the unthinkable happen.

The funny thing is that - unlike me - she is really careful and good with money, despite blowing small fortunes on things like Armani jackets or Bottega Venetta handbags (that one has yet to be acquired for less than the £3000 asking price, but she'll do it). Going window-shopping with her is a dangerous exercise for a non-millionaire.

I was at the house of an extremely wealthy client a few months ago, and saw an amazing lamp flickering away in the darkness, which looked for all the world like a real - albeit robotic and bright - candle flame, and I fell in love with it immediately. For someone who insists in the real, authentic thing, I have a paradoxical love for anything pastiche.

I looked it up on the net, and found that it is a designer item entitled, 'My New Flame', and costs a bloody fortune. I tried to put it out of my head, but - sorry to say it - Christmas is coming up and I kept thinking what a fantastic ambient addition this would make at the top of our stairs to welcome the kids when they come round for dinner.

So, with more than a little encouragement from H.I., I found myself blowing about £300 on one last night via the internet, and it is due to arrive (from Germany) in about two weeks.

A fool and his money are soon parted?

19 comments:

  1. I much prefer to sit in candlelight myself, especially on cold dark nights.

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    1. ... with no change for the meter...

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    2. Meter! What meter ? Am surprised that you mentioned a meter because I was led to believe that you were plugged into street lamp ?

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  2. .... and, I'm the biggest fool of all ..... nice light . XXXX

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  3. I'd call that an essential purchase to ensure that the compact yet adorable apartment remains suitably adorable, and no regret whatsoever need accompany the new acquisition.

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    1. Thanks to you both for indulging me in the manner to which I am accustomed.

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  4. Replies
    1. It says 07:31 above, but here it was 16:31. What time zone do you live in?

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    2. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    3. Sounds like you live in a dual time-zone. I've never bothered to set the clock.

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    4. Oh, and there is no bulb at all. It is a continuously running movie on a handful of LEDs - both sides.

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  5. I enjoy spending money on things I want. I almost always wait until I have the money, occasionally not. This month I was thinking I could pay the taxes early, then Laura and I went to the nursery and invested in a lot of ground cover perennials to fill in the garden bare spots. $200 in 20 minutes. We high fived on the way home.
    PS to Cro-Tom said he has never set his clock.

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    1. You pay taxes on growing marijuana over there? My, what public spirited dealers you are.

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  6. In answer to your last question - No. And it isn't the same price as an Armani handbag is it?

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    1. Very good point, but I don't need support as far as H.I. is concerned - just the opposite.

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  7. Um yeah $480 American dollars for ONE CANDLE?!?! You do indeed have excellent taste Tom. I'll wait 20 years and then fill my house with them for $10. In the meantime it is classless bees wax candles for me.

    Looking forward to the new painting of crow and palm. If anything as lovely as the composition in the crap camera photo it will be wonderful I am sure. Your H.I sure has a sharp eye

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    1. Beeswax hasn't always been classless. About 200 years ago, the butler would ask if the guest was worth it, otherwise it would have been tallow.

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  8. HI must be delighted you're doing some spending too. I love them. As someone who spent a long while as a prop-maker, mostly for theatre, I have a horror of the pretend candles I used to have to install in various fake victorian fittings. Yours is bizarrely abstract and I will be investigating further.....

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    1. It's more of a small, low resolution movie than a candle.

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