Procrastination is the thief of time. To which we at Alaraapothecary say- yeah, whatevs. Applying oneself to outstanding tasks is of the utmost importance when you are running a business but I have also found that I get my best creative ideas when I’ m just musing and doing nothing in particular. The mind and spirit can wander and free-associate, so to speak; it’s an invaluable skill. This is what I told myself yesterday as I frittered the day away. I’m in the middle of altering the liquid labels–yes, all 20 different products are having their labels re-formatted, resized and the text etc needs checking. It’s a good thing I enjoy detailed work. I’d actually done all the work, it just needed to be checked and then emailed to the printers.
Instead I called my aunt and in Nigeria and spent half an hour reminiscing about her superlative fish pies and fairy cakes. She is a fantastic cook–just think of tiny, piping-hot fish empanadas and light-as-air-fairy cakes. She had a catering business but never made any money as her ‘helpers’ practically bankrupted her by consuming all the stock.Then I called my ward in Canada but she was out participating in Canadian-style mayhem.
Then I called my niece in the States. I always hit the mother lode with her. We can discuss how amazing Newtonian physics is, and she understands why Euclid is such a rock star. She’d also been spending the day doing stuff like taking pictures of the changing autumnal scenery and patiently waiting for the Charles River to freeze over. She wants to walk from Cambridge to Boston across the ice. That sound like tremendous fun but, Prithee, O Beloved Niece, is that not a tad dangerous? But Oh No, she has an excellent rescue plan involving a bright green overcoat and frantically waving her arms around, presumably whilst shouting ‘Au secours, Au secours.’ Well, that’s Health and Safety sorted; I mean, what could go wrong? Brains are a prerequisite for University admission but sanity is apparently very much an optional extra. Let’s just say I can see a strong genetic link.
So, not the most practical of days, but I had great fun. To prove to you that the practical response can be extremely overrated, I have two stories.
The first is from the actor James McAvoy who was approached by a member of the public and told, ‘I am a great fan of most of your work’. Thanks pal, that’s just the type of compliment-lite that makes an artist reach for the Valium at 4am, having spent all night wondering which of his work you hated. Praise the man or let him be, you charmless, loon-faced poltroon!
Second story is a joke told by Colin Dunne about a dying Yorkshire farmer. Now, we all know Yorkshire folk are canny and hard-headed and candles were expensive in those days. Farmer Tarquin (not his real name) had been pleading with his wife to leave a candle burning overnight as he didn’t want to die in the dark should the unhappy day arrive. She reluctantly agreed to do so in the end, with one proviso:
Farmer Tarquin :Please leave the candle lit, my love. I feel the time is near and I do not wish to die alone in the dark.
Mrs Tarquin: All right. But if you feel yourself slipping away, try and blow the candle out.
Do not go gentle into that good night….. ;-). Hope you have brightly-illuminated, compliment-filled week.
Practical Magic
Procrastination is the thief of time. To which we at Alaraapothecary say- yeah, whatevs. Applying oneself to outstanding tasks is of the utmost importance when you are running a business but I have also found that I get my best creative ideas when I’ m just musing and doing nothing in particular. The mind and spirit can wander and free-associate, so to speak; it’s an invaluable skill. This is what I told myself yesterday as I frittered the day away. I’m in the middle of altering the liquid labels–yes, all 20 different products are having their labels re-formatted, resized and the text etc needs checking. It’s a good thing I enjoy detailed work. I’d actually done all the work, it just needed to be checked and then emailed to the printers.
Instead I called my aunt and in Nigeria and spent half an hour reminiscing about her superlative fish pies and fairy cakes. She is a fantastic cook–just think of tiny, piping-hot fish empanadas and light-as-air-fairy cakes. She had a catering business but never made any money as her ‘helpers’ practically bankrupted her by consuming all the stock.Then I called my ward in Canada but she was out participating in Canadian-style mayhem.
Then I called my niece in the States. I always hit the mother lode with her. We can discuss how amazing Newtonian physics is, and she understands why Euclid is such a rock star. She’d also been spending the day doing stuff like taking pictures of the changing autumnal scenery and patiently waiting for the Charles River to freeze over. She wants to walk from Cambridge to Boston across the ice. That sound like tremendous fun but, Prithee, O Beloved Niece, is that not a tad dangerous? But Oh No, she has an excellent rescue plan involving a bright green overcoat and frantically waving her arms around, presumably whilst shouting ‘Au secours, Au secours.’ Well, that’s Health and Safety sorted; I mean, what could go wrong? Brains are a prerequisite for University admission but sanity is apparently very much an optional extra. Let’s just say I can see a strong genetic link.
So, not the most practical of days, but I had great fun. To prove to you that the practical response can be extremely overrated, I have two stories.
The first is from the actor James McAvoy who was approached by a member of the public and told, ‘I am a great fan of most of your work’. Thanks pal, that’s just the type of compliment-lite that makes an artist reach for the Valium at 4am, having spent all night wondering which of his work you hated. Praise the man or let him be, you charmless, loon-faced poltroon!
Second story is a joke told by Colin Dunne about a dying Yorkshire farmer. Now, we all know Yorkshire folk are canny and hard-headed and candles were expensive in those days. Farmer Tarquin (not his real name) had been pleading with his wife to leave a candle burning overnight as he didn’t want to die in the dark should the unhappy day arrive. She reluctantly agreed to do so in the end, with one proviso:
Farmer Tarquin :Please leave the candle lit, my love. I feel the time is near and I do not wish to die alone in the dark.
Mrs Tarquin: All right. But if you feel yourself slipping away, try and blow the candle out.
Do not go gentle into that good night….. ;-). Hope you have brightly-illuminated, compliment-filled week.
Tragicomix with a T
Did you ever have one of those weeks of unutterable ghastliness during which people do such incomprehensible things that you have to wonder if you or they are suffering from behavioural issues because one of you is surely nuts? Of course you have; welcome to my world. This has been one of those weeks, culminating in the craziness of this very day. Every single thing that I was afraid would happen did. What are the odds of that? After dealing with the fifth bit of insanity before I’d even had a chance to have breakfast, I literally thought my head might explode from sheer stress. And on and on it went. I actually began to harangue God, asking what kind of crazy universe this is that we live in. Close, close, close….to, to, to, to the edge, as the song goes. Then I popped out to the supermarket for a few minutes just to clear my head and tragedy slipped into comedy. As I came out, the heavens opened and poured what felt like 600 gallons of water on my head, presumably from my own personal thundercloud. That was the point at which I realised I was wearing the one pair of shoes I never, ever wear in the rain as the soles are apparently made of tracing paper. Squelching my way home, soaked to the skin, I actually had to burst out laughing. I mean, what no lightning strike, no attack by panthers or a plague of bloodsucking mites? It was so ludicrously over the top, by the time I got home I was practically skipping. And I thought to myself, ‘The devil always overplays his hand.’ If the day had ended with two ‘miseries’ less, I would have been upset for 2 weeks. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that the rain stopped as I put my key in the door.
In that spirit of cheerfulness, please feast your eyes on the pictures of pure loveliness attached to this post. As for Tragicomix with a T, that’s from Asterix the Legionary. For reasons too obscure to explain, Asterix and Obelix go in search of Tragicomix who has been forcibly conscripted into the Roman army. Every time they asked a Roman official if he knew where Tragicomix was, the official would start looking down the list saying,’ Tragicomix, Tragicomix… is that with a ‘T’ as in “timeo danaos et dona ferentes?” That line never fails to make me laugh. I’m not sure about Greeks bearing gifts, but in God we trust…all others pay cash. Have a fabulous day.
(photos:Anna Torfs; The Beaumont, London; Junko Mori; DVF 2015; Doshi-Levien)
Firenze Mi Amore
I’m sharing pictures from my last visit to Italy today. Despite my incessant scheming, I have not been able to manage a visit to either Florence or New York this summer. I can’t explain how this happened; ordinarily my scheming vis a vis holidays never fails. On the other hand, it’s all worked out really well because I’ve been able to put AlaraApothecary on a firm footing, so s’all good. Besides, there are still three months left in the year….. hope springs eternal in the heart of the desperate traveller. It’s probably a good thing that I haven’t been able to travel anyway. I discovered that I don’t even regard trips to NYC or Italy as holidays anymore. It’s more like, ‘why can’t I go home?’ That is deeply disturbing, not to mention spoilt. One shouldn’t suffer from separation anxiety because you can’t visit a country you’re not from. A reality check is in order. In this new spirit of relentless sobriety, I share with you my favourite maxim of the week, courtesy of Mike Tyson, ‘Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth’. Tru dat.
New kids on the block
The skies are grey, it’s raining and the design shows are all over (sob).However, the leaves are turning, you can go back to wearing cosy woollen jumpers, and drinking hot chocolate is practically a human right; for the next six months anyway. You’ll notice that I’m being careful not to mention Christmas….. The secret to Christmas is to be radical and actually treat it as a celebration of the nativity of the Messiah, as opposed to a mental-breakdown and poverty-inducing binge-fest. Alaraapothecary- we solve all your problems 🙂
The shows were a bit odd this year. I have to admit to being discombobulated by the location shift of 100% Design. Omitting to read my ticket or any of the 5000 missives sent to me, I went to Earl’s Court first, in full homing pigeon mode. Imagine my consternation upon finding that I then had to trek to Olympia as the Earls Court site is being redeveloped to provide more flats that Londoners can’t afford. (Don’t even get me started. I know it’s a free market but that doesn’t mean I have to like it).
I think this may have messed with my mood but i wasn’t enamoured of Olympia at all. Tfl had also cancelled all District line trains to the station for the duration. Excellent joined-up thinking there. The space lacks the intimacy they managed to contrive at Earls Court but the exhibitors were as nice as ever and there were some really nice pieces. It’s the first year, I’m sure it will be awesome next year. By the way, that lurid red carpet causes hallucinations. You may want to tone it down.
My favourites were the beautifully made furniture by Jointed+Jointed collective, and the wallpapers and fabrics from Mitas & Co. The latter should be better known. Find them at www.mitasandco.com. The quality of surface materials and flooring was also really good. Ceramic tiling design is really amazing at the moment. I particularly liked the selection at Blueprint ceramics. The metal mosaics are just the thing if you need to introduce some bling into your life, and who doesn’t?
(photos: Hive mind wallpaper, Mitas & Co; Aponi side cabinet and bureau, Jointed+Jointed; Foxcat design light; Tramonti Art design light: Tiles & Mosaics by Blueprint ceramics)
Bespoke Beschmoke
London Design Festival is now over, of which more later. Speaking to the designer-makers at these events is always one of the high points for me. I find it energizing and inspirational. It did make me reflect on how often the word ‘bespoke’ is bandied around nowadays, as though appending it to any product is some guarantee of excellence. I’m looking forward to hearing about bespoke baby nappies, bespoke school pencils, bespoke pork chops. It’s beyond ridiculous; doubtless these items already exist somewhere.
What I have observed in the past is the amazing difference it can make to any piece of work if the maker is passionate and knowledgeable about what they’re doing. I was watching a documentary earlier in the week and I saw this guy in Sri Lanka make up bundles of cinnamon sticks. He cut off the branches, took off the outer layer and then painstakingly stripped off layer after layer of cinnamon bark. He then inserted one piece of bark into another to make up the bundles. It was hypnotic– the skill, assurance and patience involved was just wonderful. I’ve seen the same thing in really good cooks, joiners, car mechanics, nurses, even chemists 🙂 etc etc. I’ve concluded that it doesn’t really seem to matter what the task is, the glory is in seeing something small, good, and entire being done well. I have a theory that this is one of the main contributory factors to the allure of pop/rock stars – their concerts are probably the first occasions where their teen-fans have seen anyone doing anything con brio. I do have to concede that the tight leather trousers/skimpy, sparkly leotards (presumably not worn together???) may have something to do with the resultant adulation.
Bespoke, non-bespoke; do all as best as you can and to the glory of God, that’s my motto. In that spirit I’m going to share my most excellent cheesy joke du jour with you.
Did you hear about the cats that had to be rescued on the River Seine? Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre, Cinq.
(photos: Gareth Neal; Overgaard & Dyrman; Georges Mohasseb; Sebastian Herkner; Fredrikson Stallard)