I Was Soooo Wrong

Changing to a new website was a dumb idea. Myself and two others have put a lot of work into getting a new website up and running and it is essentially the same as this platform. The biggest hurdle to the new site's success is this blog. It has been running for about 8 or 10 years and all that energy behind it. Searching for "Laureen van Lierop" landed people here. So what was the point. The only changes I really wanted made was to add a gallery page for art work to sell and to bring my comic book Hot Flash Woman under the same platform. Not. Worth. It. To those who helped me, I hope you enjoy the knitting I exchanged with you for your services, but I'm sticking with the same old, same old.

Phew. What a lot of tension this created for me. Now I have to make a couple of changes to this blog and "Blog's your Uncle"

I did get the feedback to change the title of the blog, since none of you have any idea what Cloudmongers and Soup refers to. My husband uses this poem when he wants to be romantical and for a while it was the name of our design team. He went his design way, I went my design way, but I kept the name. (we are still very married) The poem goes:

Paris Spleen

XLIV

The Soup and the Clouds

            My Dear Little Mad Beloved was serving my dinner, and I was looking out of the open dining-room window contemplating those moving architectural marvels that God constructs out of mist, edifices of the impalpable. And as I looked I was saying to myself: "Al those phantasmagoria are almost as beautiful as my beloved's beautiful eyes, as the green eyes of my mad monstrous little beloved."
                                           All of a Sudden I felt a terrible blow of a fist on my back, and heard a husky and charming voice, an hysterical voice, a hoarse brandy voice, the voice of my dear little beloved, saying: "Aren't you ever going to eat your soup, you damned bastard of a cloud-monger?"
                                                                                                          Charles Baudelaire

I still laugh my head off whenever he reads this to me.

In the spirit of being a little mad, I will remain here, hoping the art gods discover my work and that fame is just a blog post away.