who is that?


The time is here: I really want to consolidate some of the mishmash of identities I’ve got here on the internets. It’s confusing for me now, so I forget how disconbobulating it must be for others…

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Some variations of ‘Me’

Y’see, I set this blog up all those years ago as a bit of a whim. I wanted to have a record of what I was doing and making and thinking at the time and it seemed like the internets was a safe place to put it so it didn’t all get eaten alive by yet another computer. That’s all.

“Ephemeral Gecko” was just a couple of words I liked.  I liked the way they sounded together.

I didn’t figure on anyone else noticing. I googled the phrase and when nothing untoward came up in the results, I made the choice and claimed the name. It didn’t occur to me anyone else would be interested in these musings. So, live n learn, huh?

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Some variations of ‘Me’

Recently I heard Seth Godin talking about blogs – when you start to write online, he advised, use a pseudonym, gauge the response, if it isn’t favourable then who cares – it wasn’t ‘you’. Yes! clever me and my forethought! I knew that already! that’s what I did!!

Then he went on to recommend you switch to your real name after a few weeks.

Oh, not that bit. I didn’t do that bit.

And it’s been a few years now …

… and a few names too.

Ephemeral Gecko became the me that instagrammed and twitted (not twitting often enough to matter… until I remembered the auto-twitting of my blog posts I set up and promptly forgot about. So in that sense, a version of me I’d forgotten about was busy over there.

A long time before all this happened I used the name pentangled for my jewellery making and early dabbles into digital art. I disliked that name more and more over the subsequent years and having established myself in that guise in deviantArt & redbubble, I finally ditched it.

I know, I know.

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Some variations of ‘Me’

I adopted the name Mixy on facebook, to begin from pure silliness, then stuck with it as a point of principle. That was a time when it was being claimed fb was closing down the accounts of folk not using their real name. Which was really screwing up the lives of ppl who needed anonymity for their personal safety. That wasn’t my story, but I wanted to stand in solidarity with those for whom it was. No matter how futile and ineffective. I knew why, and that’s what mattered to me at the time.

There’s all sorts of reasons why this all seems scrappy and indecisive and bad practice, not quirky and adorable and fun. But there we are. I’m all those things, and I’m using the defence of “I’m an artist” in the same way as Marvin Gaye (formerly Spartacus) Chetwynd does. Because really, who cares? I make stuff. I share it online and sometimes real life exhibitions.That’s all that really matters. If things like this get you all tangled up, don’t let it, pour that angst into something important and leave me here.

This is all of me. Here I am – just the one of me – typing this too you in all the places I type to you from. And perhaps someplace automated I don’t remember too.


If you’d like more insights into my ridiculous & made up world, my colorful antics & frippery, you can do so by hopping onto my newsletter list for sporadic updates. And I’ll send you my  lovingly hand crafted ebook all about color 

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Be well, my friends, Much love to you all X

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(Your email is absolutely safe with me, I’ll just pop by and check up on it time to time, feed it biscuits, plump up its cushions, that sort of thing.)

Twelvty launch!


Hi friends!

Here we are, after much squirreling around I’m delighted to let you know: TWELVTY is now on sale!

I am SO excited! 

To celebrate I’m offering a 2 month discount off the year long program if you sign up this week

TWELVTY is a brand new program I’m launching today, it will run from January through December 2017 and it’s all about color!

Intrigued? Find out more here

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New Moon – New Plans


New Moon – New Plans

I got back from my travels last month so wiped out with jetlag, post giddy-with-deleriously-excited induced tiredfulness that I lost most use out of almost a full fortnight. Then no time at all later I went and took off again. I’m back now, this time long enough to catch my own tail, to take a deep breath. And again. And to make some plans. 

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Last weekend brought a new moon, which on this side of the world was the second new moon in the month making it a black moonI’ve loved the mythology, the tradition, the woo-woo – the whatever you want to call it – of aligning with the lunar cycle since I was a wee scrap. It’s part of my way of fumbling through this life.  The new moon is the time to sow seeds – literal and metaphorical. Actual plant seeds want you to pay attention to the season for best success, but the seeds of ideas can be planted any time. I like the belief they get a head start when fuelled by intention and belief.

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Inspired by a couple of dear friends I’ve met this year, this new moon I was inspired to begin this new moonly ritual.

A New Moon – Moodboard – Art Journal – Scrapbook. … Snappy title, right? ha!

The idea was introduced to me by  Kate Robertson, I love it so much as it brings together a bunch of things I already do – the art journalling, the new moon intention setting, my unending love of cutting up and gluing together images… I haven’t moodboarded much before, for want of getting around to it, and finding a space for the thing to live, so to have it in a book is the perfect solution for me. Said book is now propped up open at the current view and in my line of vision where I sit and do my artly doings.

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The process was enriched by the influence of Hali Karla, who I was delighted to meet up with in real life on my travels. Hali is an artist, intuitively in tune with an astrological practice that she weaves into her creativity, she provides an Art Practice New Moon audio recording each month you can listen to here. On Sunday I settled myself down with the big ole box of magazine pics I’ve been hoarding forever, a big new art journal, and as I listened to Hali’s words I chose the images and thoughts that shone out to me as what I want to bring into the coming month.

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These shorter darker days call in more than ever the warm bright glowing colours for me, for cosiness and comfort, for the mental hibernation and reconbobulation I’m looking to toward the end of a year of big changes and personal re-routing.

I’ve got a sense of releasing the past, letting go and lightening up. Looking into the place where the dreamworld meets the real world, matching the edges together and seeing what I can make next.

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In doing this I’m piecing together new plans for 2017, plans I intend to nurture this month. (Much more on that soon)

living the dream


So you know how it was such a long held wish to visit the US… from early little me watching TV through growing up with the music and the movies and all that hype … through to a growing realisation the place is enormous and a long way away.

And then a number of years later, I arrived.

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coming in to land in Seattle

A friend said today how it was curious to see America through my eyes.

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Rogue Voodoo Doughnut Mango Astronaut Ale. (No, I didn’t)

There are things I see as foreign, despite the similarities between the US & UK, it’s subtle nuances, things I knew about from TV but have never seen in real life. It feels like I’ve slipped through a portal to a parallel universe in which I shrunk back to child sized in relation to my surroundings. And with mountains. Actual mountains. With actual snow on them!

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Mount Rainier National Park (saving this for next trip, image courtesy of the internets, I could see it but  only filtered through a bit of cloud)

 

In my three week adventure I covered almost 12,000 miles, through 8 states, and met some really wonderful people.

I’ve been home about a day and a half and gradually processing and decompressing from the gazillions of new experiences. I came back with upward of 42 GB of video and photos … some edits required, then I’ll show you some of my adventurings!

 

 

 

Happy landings, shininess


a few days ago I landed in Seattle, and I fell in love with the place.

Not least for the Seattle Center which includes the Experience Music Project – the EMP Museum – the most amazingly shiny building I’ve ever encountered – which I spent a good hour or so just circling and photographing while oohing and ahing.

Designed by Frank O Gehry, this extraordinary building has colours that seem to shift as you walk round, and the wobbly surface make for funky reflections. Get these…

 

And Chihuly Garden and Glass —oh my days!! —If you’re like me and get giddy on shiny things, this is a place that will make your heart sing! 

Check back soon — I’ll post up the pics from there once I’ve filtered through them. (I took approx a gazillionty-hundred-and-twelve… watch this space!!)

jumping!


I’m taking a big jump into the unknown this week!

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Since I was a little thing I’ve dreamed of visiting the USA. That magical place I saw on TV. Over the subsequent years I’ve made some half baked plans, but now it’s actually going to happen! The spirit of seven year old me is going to meet Mork & Mindy, along with all the accumulated wishes and hopes of every version of me that’s existed since then. (should I pack more clothes? – that’s a lot of us)

I’m going to meet up with some very dear (until now online) friends while I’m there, and I’m truly in bits with anticipation at this!

In the hope to soak in as much as I can in my couple of weeks I’ve planned a cross country trip by train to see as much as I can, so I’ll be whizzing through seven states in all.

I’ll keep you posted along the way – as time and wifi permits – and I’ll take some photos for you too! 😉

Big love, dear pals X

merging emerging


Last night I couldn’t sleep. So I painted. And I pondered.

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The magic of metallic paint on cushiony soft paper, that biro marks indent and cast tiny shadow outlines.

Life is as quick as a flash, a sprint through some generations and it’s done.

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And life is a slow evolution, spiralling up through understanding new layers of the game.

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It’s both.

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Everything & Nothing. Empty & Full.

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Contrast & Confusion. Zigs & Zags.

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Deep & Shallow.

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Some folk like to scramble the edge, following the truths they’ve chosen to absorb, busying away their days in occupation and activity, punctuated with ritual and escapism.

IMG_7349.jpgFearful of treading over the lines, getting their toes wet, or worse.

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Some folk run at it fast, not leaving anything to chance, escaping the dangers by out-running and out-witting. No way is right, no way is wrong. We’re all just making it up one bit at a time.

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I’ve been listening to Pete Holmes’ podcasts: You Made It WeirdHe kept me company through the night, kept me laughing and thinking. So far I’ve really love love loved his interactions with Liz Gilbert & Deepak Chopra and been curiously riled by Noel Gallagher &  Tim Minchin.

hello/goodbye


Yesterday I went to the funeral of the mother of an old friend. I don’t see him much these days, our lives distanced in different directions, but as a teenager I spent some time hanging out at his house and with his family, so I went along to say hello/goodbye.

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The last time we saw each other, a few years ago, was the funeral of another of the group who used to hang out. The brother of our lost friend was there as well. The previous grief rolled back in. As I walked home after my mind was flooded.

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The sanctuary of this book was waiting for me, glad of the space between it’s pages to drift and soothe and hush the thoughts. There are no rules in here. Nothing appropriate or other. Just release.

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Revisiting the crematorium, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been there, from my cousin when I was 15 through generations of friends and relations. With every attendance, every ceremony, each the same and each achingly unique, another layer of mourning.

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The logical mind tries to interpret grief intellectually as profound sadness associated with an inexplicable ending, but it isn’t, it’s much more confusing than that.

It’s all of the emotions, all of the feelings in accelerating succession, then as that rhythm starts to normalise, another avalanche. And repeating, and repeating. Inexplicable, inappropriate, quite strange. I remember  feeling indestructible after mum died.  In conversation yesterday someone was saying how he floated in an unexplained elation for months after a close loss. Troubling and comforting in balanced measure.

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I often think of how different our lives have become in just a few generations, since the media driven onslaught of communication. By partaking in modern society our circle of acquaintance is inflated to absurd proportions in unrestricted encounters.

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These encounters zip back and forth in time, meaning for the first time in humanity we can spend time in the company of someone – albeit a one-way version of them – at any point in their lives. Years aren’t played out in consecutive order and the resultant discombobulation unsettles us, I believe, more than we understand.

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Perhaps this is the shake up we need, rattling us out of the old paradigms.

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on letting go, on moving on


Continuing from yesterpost, as I’m finding my place in this book, it’s finding its place in my days.

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I’m loving the contrast of my art against the books original purpose (which I spoke of more over here). The waves and the lines criss-crossing the verbal nonsense. More than this I’m enjoying the meditation of the evening ritual this book plays out in my life. It’s very lack of specific purpose is becoming it’s purpose.

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It’s a bit solid ground in uncertain times as I’m feeling unsettled in aspects of my life with the turmoil of transition, that awkward movement into unknown territory. It sits in part of my world where I know I can keep moving, one little step at a time.

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Behind the noise of confusion I soften the day, here is my haven. I leave the other realities, partially dismantled, they can wait for now.

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I’m drawing in a series of moments of now.

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I’m relishing the freedom: detaching from outcome , delighting in the hope, focussing on process,

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the less I plan, the more fun I have.

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The more I let go, the more I let go.

 

 

 

 

 

unruliness


Last month I declared my intent for a new phase of being me.

The new rules? there are no rules. This is my age of unruliness! 

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So to start off I’m simplifying; I’m streamlining.

I’m de-cluttering my life both  literally and figuratively. Honestly, permanently and fundamentally. It’s proving a wrench to begin, if I’m honest about it, but I do believe once I build up a bit of momentum there’ll be nothing to stop me.

I’ve heard good things about Marie Kondo’s book “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up”, so I’m watching this as a substitute for reading it. I can’t add to the pile of to-read-next books that’s remained untouched for an uncomfortably long time now. And I love irony. I still can’t.

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Through the first 45 years of this life I gathered and collected. I took things on and things built up – actual things and symbolic things – I inherited these traits along with a lot of accumulated junk and an assortment of mismatched thought patterns and beliefs.

And the conclusion I’ve drawn from looking into this? it’s exhausting, confusing and not something I’m prepared to pursue any further.

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I’m really going to shake this whole bag of nonsense up and see what sticks and what falls off. If it falls off it’s not mine to care about any more.

Climbing out of that old existence.  This time is my time.

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I plan to free up enough space that I can stretch out both arms and touch the outer edges of my imagination. I think that this colourful outpouring is part of that process and all these troubled tense scribbles are an outlet. As are the hectic dreams of monsters and gremlins that bite my arms and chew on my feet in my sleep.

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I want to be free to explore the dreams I always knew would find their time.

Their time is now.