The Pamper Shop

fb_img_1463421116181.jpghaven house 9th sept

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The Pamper Shop

Be a new you. Great hair cut in a short time for £8 only always with Magda at corner of Sanderstead and Lea Bridge Road. Go on then,  I’ll say it: by the new Lea Bridge Station. Same hairdo costs a fiver at Vidal’s but you sit for five hours. Waltham Forest College is great too if you like a sit-down.
I will post about Jessica’s fiver Yoga soon after a cuppa. Pamper the
author.

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The Pamper Shop

Stuart Low Trust offers free mindfulness sessions. Check their website then join their membership list for free. You do not have to live in Islington to take advantage of what’s on offer freely and generously. Up Your Street subscribers have been in the Trust’s company for 12 years. Good going.
Plus you will never go hungry as Virginia and Robert bring healthy picnics to day outings. Thank you SLT

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The Pamper Shop

Well, great FREE stuff happening at Hale End Library,  E4 over the railway tracks,  past the second hand shop, on a hill come and practise art without judgement but by talking over tea, saying how you feel, being inspired by music and poetry, movement and life. One Saturday a month with a therapeutic artist. Book through Waltham Forest Culture.  Twelve sessions in all but come to as few as you want.
We are on the road to art and nature, art and mindfullness.

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women in art

Today I had my art on canvases filmed and I answered questions about my exhibition too.

It was a great experience for me and for the film-makers.

My exhibition about women in the changing rooms is called
At The Swim.
It’s at Hackney Central Library and most library WiFi users walk straight past it or actually through it as the work stands in class cabinets presumably because anything hanging disappears.

One visitor texted me today saying that my exhibition does not exist. He could have asked the staff but that’s an energetic task . I have stood many a minute at a library assistant’s counter and proved invisible. I helped my friend “Go towards the glass!” a bit like “Go towards the light”.

As is always after an interview I realized I was a babbling non-coherent inconsistent twat but my words are still cooking so I can share what I said about art in the community and where women stand. Move over Mrs Barton .

I paint older women because I love all their shapes. Simple as.
I am always learning and know full well that major galleries hardly air women’s paintings and work showing women.

Oh see you Saatchi.

But I would say that when it comes to art exhibitions at local community hubs then there is displayed art work in abundance by women and work about women by both men and women.

My paintings about older women are an homage to that age group oft described as “invisible” by both young and old and show that there can be seen bodies not lithe, young and blond but squashy and lumpy with bits missing and they come in all colours.

So what’s new? Not the above.

The next step though is crucial in that all people recognise ageing as what it is and that all women can be respected as they carry what they grow into.

“I never ordered this body” is a reasonable statement from a woman out of the pool , looking at her thunder thighs and seeing a pile of well woman magazines with Euro blond yogurt fed bodies on every page.

” I can shake what my mother gave me but people would run and I’m not too happy about what moves out of time either.”

Men and women are conditioned by mostly everything around them to conform to a norm. People become millionaires feeding off that and degrading others. If we want to reach a state where all bodies are worthy then everything starts at grass roots in the community and that includes seeing me from the neighbourhood embracing my peers and inviting them to share my stance on feminism, my standing up, my loving communal women -peopled spaces, my messaging strength in unity through acrylic on canvas, my group preferences, image

my addiction .

Phew ! A cup of tea would have gone down well.

“At the swim” is how my once Orcadian neighbours described going to the local swimming pool. It’s a language thing.