So I called my mum at half past eight this morning for a chat. I had already been up for some time sewing the hope flag before I went into work.

The conversation went a little bit like this....

"Hi Mum, How are you?"

"Hi Darling." *sounding a little odd*

"Oh sorry Mum did I wake you up?"

"No darling I'm just out in the garden completing 20 Salutes to the Sun (Yoga position) in the rain."

Now, I wonder where I get my obsessive behaviour from?

Frantic search for blinkies & fur, desperate pleas for cheap tickets.

Realising we don't have nearly enough money for this trip despite everyone's generosity but fuck it; we're going now.

Typing all day like a corporate demon and then sewing all night like an east end sweatshop bitch. Finishing the day off with a call to my love rounding up any Burner news.

Dragging myself out of bed, eyes scratchy and mouth dry after sleepless nights filled with nightmares of unimaginable horrors. Riding my bike to work, head filled with thoughts of dust and love.

The muslim family next door gathering to peer out the window and whisper to each other as Turtle burns a 5 foot by 3 foot Union jack in the yard, supended off the washing line. No we're not wierd - it's art don't you know.

Not even allowing myself to think about packing yet. All projects remain unfinished and baggage restrictions still apply. Fuck!

Yes I do love Burning Man but this is hard, this bit is.

Fuckitty Fuck Fuck...

It's just dawned on me that I won't be able to take any books onto the flight to Vegas. 11 hours stuck with my own thoughts is not an appealing prospect.

Nevermind the fact that WW3 is clearly well underway, I MUST be able to read something other than the airline magazine on my flight, Goddamit! Terrorism is ever so inconvenient -seems almost purposefully inconvenient.

Oooh, I could get pissed though? What would I do without my old toxic friend....Mmmm.

Hmmm, it is not normal to address blogposts to craft objects as if they were sentient beings, nor is it normal to call said objects "motherfuckers."

I think this job is getting to me.

Mmmmmm.....The developing European Craft Scene. I never thought I'd say it but it's really very sexy...

Works like LaceFence tick all my boxes - industrial, site specific, a challenge to familiar notions. I hereby bid a fond farewell to thousands of wicker baskets and felt scarves...Motherfuckers, your time is up.

Pride of Britain....



Youth is utterly fabulous and glamourous is it not? I have high hopes for the ecstacy generation.