One week ago, I went into my local post office to buy a stamp. I have gotten used to personnel trying to hustle me into changing my broadband and telephone service provider, so I wasn’t bothered about that. However, on this occasion, the sales’ woman also asked me if I had life assurance arranged – yes, life assurance. I was so shocked that I didn’t have the presence of mind to dismiss her with a simple “yes” but mumbled a few personal details before deflecting her. All this happened in front of a queue of people, by the way. I’m not complaining about the woman, in particular. She is only doing what she is paid to do. But could someone “high up” in the post office please explain why members of the public must be subject to an onslaught of aggressive sales’ technique every time we try to access a vital public service? I know the post office has to make money and all of that, but there must be a better way to sell services that entail discussion of sensitive, personal information with the sales’ person. The really biting question is: just how do I avoid being accosted by sales’ people every time, yes, every time, I walk into this particular post office? Short of wearing a cheeky “I’m only here to buy stamps” badge, I don’t see what I can do.
(I have sent a copy of this complaint to the Post Office website.)
The idea for a book combining colour theory and Greek mythology, which has always held my fascination, occurred to me just over two years ago.I have now launched Mythical Colouring. The majority of colouring books provide colour enthusiasts with patterns for essays into pure colour. However, even imagination requires a helping hand when matching and contrasting shades. The introductory notes and the guidelines that accompany every story serve as a springboard for the aspiring colourist.
Each story consists of two images, an A4-sized image and a smaller – though enlarged - detail from that image. Many enthusiasts may prefer to experiment on this detail before moving on to the full-sized picture. I have also provided blank squares at the outset of the book for pure colour experimentation.
Beginning with the story of a prehistoric deluge, the reader is taken through a montage of scenes from the lexicon of Greek mythology that include the pastoral worlds of Hyperion and Endymion, to the subterranean realm of Medea and the adventures of Hercules. In the accompanying guidelines, I explain how to attain the requisite atmosphere through the use of colour, and reminding the enthusiast that he or she is free to experiment.