Artsfest a Painfest

I was all excited, and had managed to infect the children with something approaching enthusiasm, for the Birmingham Artsfest was taking place 14th-16th September. We decided to go on the train so hubby didn't have to park, or indeed drive, in Birmingham, and see a few of the things on offer on Sunday. After getting lost for a while, due to the fact that we can no longer get a train to New Street station from where we live and instead had to go to Moor Street, we managed to stumble across the Artsfest by accident, after I spotted a row of tent-like structures. These proved to be exhibit and information tents from organisations such as Tindal Street Press and Stage 2 youth theatre. With a bag made heavier by leaflets, we moved on.
At Comedy on the Beach in Chamberlain Square we saw the Young Blood Theatre Company from Coventry presenting Punch and Judy, which amused kids and adults alike. Funny, a little bit rude, with brilliant costumes and performances from the actors, it was a show that took the main elements of a traditional Punch and Judy show, added some acid and a pinch of sarcasm, and mixed it up until the end product resembled an LSD trip to Blackpool. Highly recommended.
In Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, I wandered around the exhibits while the kids made their own badges, then we caught the Birmingham Bach Choir in the Industrial Gallery. An uplifting performance, visually stunning as they sang on the staircase in front of us.
Then, what was to be the highlight of our trip, a visit to Levity II, an installation created by Architects of Air. At 50 metres in length, it promised to be spectacular. All we had to do was hop on the free transport provided to go to Millenium Point. Simple.
No, not particularly. We made our way to the nearest stop for the free bus and land train, which was on Broad Street according to the map. The road was closed off, and there were volunteers manning the barriers. We walked up past the Paintings on the Railings exhibitions, but could see no sign telling us where to catch the free transport. We asked a volunteer, he'd not even heard there was supposed to be any, so we walked on. Around which time my own personal Painfest began. My legs were hurting, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to walk without limping. I have fibromyalgia, and it was beginning to make it's presence felt. We asked another volunteer, further up Broad Street, who told us that the land train stop was by Paintings on the Railings. So we turned around, and trudged - slowly - back down Broad Street. We couldn't see any sign of the transport, so we asked another volunteer, who told us that we could catch it by the ICC.
By this time I was trying not to cry, as I had mascara on, and the pain was excruciating. We decided to give up on Levity II and go home. If only some bugger hadn't, for a laugh, changed the direction of the sign pointing to Snow Hill station...
So, my verdict on Artsfest is C- Could Do Better. It's no good having the transport laid on if no-one knows where to catch it, and some of the festival, because of this, is made inaccessible to people with mobility problems. Also, those of us who are clairvoyantly challenged would have appreciated better signposts to the different parts of Artsfest. Maybe the reason that this event has little impact outside Birmingham is because those people who do not know Birmingham like their own back yard - me, for instance - do not know where the events are in relation to each other and end up stumbling around in an Arts-deprived haze, then go home early enough to catch the coverage of the event on the news.
Clare

I can see clearly now...

I have finally drageed myself to an opticians for an eye exam - my first since primary school. My doctor suggested I go, as my pupils aren't reacting properly to light, so I end up wearing sunglasses a lot. Which looks okay outside, but very strange when you're shopping at night in the 24hr Tesco. I have been adamant forever that I would never wear glasses as I would look like a librarian. After the shock of not actually being able to read the first line of letters correctly, I meekly submitted to the notion that I needed spectacles.

They're not as bad as I feared - some looked horrendous when I tried them on, mainly all the brightly coloured ones that I was drawn to. Retro styles did, indeed, make me look like a librarian. I settled on a black Guess pair with a discreet diamante trim on the arms, and had a grey tint to my lenses so I don't have to keep squinting every time an advert comes on the tv or the car in front shows it's brake lights (I don't drive, you'll be pleased to hear.)

So now I suppose I'll have to get used to the fact that I am a person who wears glasses. There should be some sort of counselling service set up for this sort of thing, as it's a massive emotional upheaval. Although not as bad as my Dad sending me a 'Now you're 30' birthday card even though I was only 29.
Clare 8-)