Another night another face. Round two, here we go.

    Here is a word I like;
                   
                          Defenestration: The execution or murder of a person by throwing them out of a window or high portal.

   So tonight I decided I would go for curves. This was a mistake for numerous reasons. Firstly I have a shake in my hand which is easier to control when painting straight lines, second my brush is a bit rubbish and has no pointed tip to finish curls nicely. Echh enough moaning...

In a thought from yesterday, I decide to split my face.

Adding thick lines to fill in space

Adding white to give contrast. Note to self, this was much harder than it had to be next time start with half a white face.

|Contrast with black

Black lips seem to work better

Finished product

Not sure i'm as happy with it as last time, a little more intricate but not sure the payoff will be the same. Maybe it would be better with a full white face and curling balck spirals but I guess we'll...

    So as a continuous project, this blog has been a bit lacking. Nevertheless we trundle on.

Here is a word that I like;
             
       Bosky: Having an abundance of bush trees or shrubbery.

The next few posts will comprise different make up builds for work, so that I can get feedback

  We start with the basic 'Uncle Fester' a little light on the dark eyes, could mabye do with some reddening

                                                            Boo...

                                             A basic line idea...

                    That ends up getting a little out of hand. The ear lines might be a bit too far, it all might be a bit too far. It's a start anyway. I might use it tonight and see how...

The Morality Play of Cian Mallen

Here is a word that i like...

Cacoepy:  The mispronunciation of a word

(In order to reduce the risk of mispronouncing the word, please note there should be an umlaut over the 'e' in cacoepy, but i am unsure how to create that in this document. As far as i can remember there is also an umlaut over the 'u' in the word 'umlaut' but now we are beginning to fall into a dangerous circle of grammatical accent marks from which we may never escape. )


I must begin by declaring that this story is not mine, it belongs to my brother Cian.

This is Cian....

And as it is his story, he inevitably tells it best. So should you meet him one day in a pub, a shop or passing on the street, i urge you, have him recount it. He might even demonstrate the dance for you.

My brother and his girlfriend had invited a couple over for dinner the following day and were planning to make beef and guinness stew for them, which is delicious by the way you should go eat some, now, go on, try it. Unfortunately they were missing a vital ingredient, guinness. It was fifteen minutes or so untill the shops stopped selling alcohol, so one mad dash down to the shops in the car later and Cian jumps out of the car while his girlfriend parks. To his credit, he made it just under the wire and so it is understandable that he exited the shop with not only the cans of guiness, but also a strong sense of accomplishment.

              This sense of accomplishment filled Cian to the point that when he saw his girlfriend sitting in the car waiting for him, he held up the cans, his trophy, pointed to them in an exaggerated manner and proceeded to do what is now known as the 'I've got the guiness' dance.

Which is not to be confused with this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAGLstjcLZA


By all accounts the 'I've got the guiness' dance was one of those rare fleeting moments where a single instinct, a powerful emotion found pure expression through movement. There was splaying of arms, angling of knees, shuffling of feet and, of course, gyrating of hips. His sheer exuberance carried Cian from the store down the street to his girlfriend who was watching him dance towards the car.

It should have been his car.
It should have been his girlfriend.

It wasn't.


It was, in fact, a stranger. An obviously terrified woman, sitting in a car that vaguely resembled Cian's, looking at a man who was staring at her while gesturing wildly with alcohol and who was doing all manner of strange movements as he approached her. Unfortunately Cian did not realise this until he was almost upon the poor woman, at which time he smoothly transitioned into his normal manner of walking and ambled past her car as if nothing odd had just occurred.


I often find myself hoping that other people have families as completely barmy as mine. Everyone should experience the joy of commiting a innocently beautiful act of stupidity, or at least know someone who has. If you don't then i hope this brought a smile to your face, it is a true, if slightly wordy, retelling of an extraordinary event.

Also if you are the woman in that car then, on behalf of my brother and myself, i can but offer you my deepest apologies. You may never...

So I says to Mabel, I says...

Hello.

I have at one time or another bored my freinds to tears with long, roundabout stories as answers to questions they never asked. For this I apologise.  This blog is an effort to do much the same thing, in a much wider forum. If you have not stopped reading already, I can do no less than to apologise in a similar fashion. So to you, yes you personally, I am sorry.

Here is a word I like...

Peripatetics: Students, school or followers of Aristotles philosophy. Itinerant. Teacher employed by two schools/colleges.

For those of you who have not met me yet, know this, I am tall.
Quite tall.
Really quite tall.
I am six feet, six inches tall.
This is often inconvenient, occasionally nice and mostly a source of humour... sometimes it is all three.

My only excuse is that I was tired, really tired, three days of presentation preperation tired. I was standing in a queue in xtravision. I'm not sure why, but people are often more aware of how tall I am when I am standing in queues. It was the third time a girl was pushed from the huddled mass of giggling pre-teens, to nervously edge as close to me as she dared, so her freinds could laugh at how small she looked in comparison to me.  I should have said nothing, I probably should have ignored it, I definitely should not have jumped around to face her, thrown my hands up in the air and yelled "mmwaaghh" startling her enough to make her jump, literally, jump backwards off the ground. Those who saw it, the girl, her freinds and the staff behind the counter busted themselves laughing and everyone else, especially the man standing directly ahead of me in the queue, was left looking around in sudden bewilderment.

It was a genuine moment of lunatic frivolity. I enjoyed it immensly.

This is not the only story I have of being tall, this is not the only story I have of being tall and being in a queue and being pestered by kids. I wonder if this only happens to me? Does any one else ever find themselves in ridiculous positions due to the attention they draw because of how they look, act, talk? Can you actually derive a sense of....