So last week, my 2 year old son overheard a builder use the F word.
I know, disgusting right. What's society coming to?
Erm, that builder might just have been me.
...It's party time. Well not until tomorrow but it's imminent. The '2 year old in a teenager's body' is having a party. We've selected the venue (his favourite softplay centre): small, easy to get to, fabulous toys including his favourite 'the oven', always pristine sans the ubiquitous childrens' dribble and I don't actually have to get into the ball pit as visibility from the seating area/magazine stand is peripheral.
My baby toddler turns 2 today. TWO WHOLE YEARS! So much has happened since his dramatic entrance into the world. We've lived in 3 different cities, had time off, started work again, made films, changed jobs, friends, houses and all the while our lives have been irrevocably, indellibly transformed by one charismatic and delightful young man. It's amazing that such a small person can make such a HUGE impression.
I recently read a superb article in the Guardian on what inspires some of the greatest creatives out there. It got me thinking about what inspires me, whether it's writing a feature screenplay, animation script or this blog right here. Here are my tips to becoming inspired. Happy 2012!
I have a confession to make. I'm Greek (well British Greek) and up until recently I'd never given my child hummus. I know, you better sit down and sip on some brandy. It's pretty shocking stuff.
Incredible illustrator, magazine founder and creator of Financially Hard Times and utterly all round wonderful young man, Tom Casson is kindly closing my Blogging Carnival with an illustration of my Dad: Papa G. The drawing which perfectly captures Pops was inspired by one of my early and most favourite of posts: Dad and a Little Case of Chicken Pox.
I was born and bred a Catholic. Growing up in West Ireland to an Irish Mother whose own family stemmed from a deeply religious background it was inevitable I would follow the same path. Admiration, of course, to my parents for continuing not only this upbringing when we moved to England, but in also making the effort (because as I have since found out it IS an effort) for my sisters and I, to be schooled in Catholic schools.
When Caleb was born, Sophie was 11 and babies were just about the best thing ever. Nothing she could do to help was never too much trouble. The age gap hadn't really crossed my mind when I fell pregnant and the fact I still had a child at junior school may have contributed to that. Initially all seemed fine..
