For details about my work have a look at my website, www.lauraboswell.co.uk

I am currently working on large prints combining water based woodblock techniques with oil based linocut: nothing if not a challenge! I'm also doing some teaching and go back to school myself in the spring to qualify as an adult education tutor

Friday 18 June 2010

buzz buzz buzz

We have a bee’s nest at the foot of one of our apple trees. Strictly speaking it is a wasp’s nest, but they left at the end of last summer and the bees have since set up home. They came under an entirely fruitless badger attack last week: the badgers left empty handed and we were left with large, deep and perfectly circular tunnel in the lawn. I ran over it with the lawn mower yesterday and froze in horror at the sound of deep buzzing. In my head I imagined the immediate appearance of a solid column of bees, angry as a mob of French peasants hunting down the aristocracy. What actually happened was that about half a dozen bees came out looking slightly cross and bewildered; more like a street’s worth of Highgate Guardian readers on finding they didn’t have advance warning of a mains closure.

I was entirely glad not to be massively stung, but I did sort of expect to have more impact. I felt a bit non-consequential as a result and that brings me on to the main thrust of this blog. Someone asked me recently ‘Why do you write a blog? Does anyone read it? Doesn’t it tie you down?’ Heavy questions indeed. Well, I do have readers: my mum-in-law and assorted other enthusiastic family members, the people who come up on Google Analytics (Berkshire Fire and Rescue: I know who you are and thanks for your support), the lads from Wells enamel factory (if they know they are getting a mention) and the very occasional kind person who posts a comment, but that really misses the point.

I write this because it’s a fun exercise to write something neat, amusing and short. Posting it means it has an end destination and no, it doesn’t tie me down. My friend saw blogging as a sort of monstrous chore: a necessary piece of public relations, relentless as the maintenance of a dark haired Hollywood starlet contracted to go platinum blonde. I see it as a sort of small indulgence to be enjoyed when I’m in the mood: more of ten minutes in the warm sun with a really good coffee. So it really doesn’t matter if, like the bees, people at large take no notice, I’m enjoying myself...