My bags are a difficult bunch. Not one one of them is perfect. I am always at a loss as to the one I should use. My requirements are quite diverse; they can change in moments . So careful analysis to the weather, day of the week, mode of transport and the job in hand is long and precise. As a result long before the tears at bedtime there is much hair tearing, ranting, raving and even of worldwide search for a more suitable ‘container of goods.’
I often think that these … a mean representation of the full collection are partners in a revolution … deliberately hold out in a planned coup to upset the apple cart.
Three days to go! I am trying to remain grounded, as there is still much to do before departing to Rio on Thursday. While this morning I will enjoy a bit of pampering, this afternoon I will be helping to take down the exhibition at the University.
I did have an especially good weekend. I have been gathering tools for my press workshop, teasingly named in my mind. While I don’t have a press yet I do have some tools. Towards the end of last week I bought a lead cutter on Ebay and arranged to collect it on Sunday. This proved to be extra helpful as the seller, a letterpress expert sold me some extra items and gave me some priceless advice to help me as a beginner on my journey. Although he wasn’t able to help me past the traffic congestion on the M25!
So now I have a better idea of the fount size and spaces I will require. I am on the lookout for some Sans Gill 24pt and 36pt and and complete set of wood letters in say 48pt or more, this will a bit more difficult but I am in no rush. However, it will be good to look around in Brazil and also in UK when I return.
Until then there is lots to do … another suitcase to fill.
Today’s post can go one of two ways; while I reconcile the last few weeks and the following 6 days.
I haven’t been posting as regularly as I would have liked for a few months and thought I might explain way. The last few weeks have been difficult and a joy of equal measure. What with illness, some life threatening and some less so, directly or indirectly it makes no odds, illness is a distraction. Then, there was redundancy and relationship issues, conditions, again mostly not insurmountable and often with positive results, but can appear to upset the apple-cart. Then, there is the preparation for a long awaited holiday, that too, can become the main focus and day to day practices pushed into touch!
During this time I have also created work for a couple of exhibitions and traveled hither and thither for courses and workshops and looking forward to more work later in the year.
So excuses, reasons or distractions, for no apparent reason my life has changed direction … it seems impermanence is the new permanence.
So which way will I go? Down the road of ‘if only’ or celebrate the change as it comes and goes?
While today I steward at the gallery in my golden shoes I will greet the opportunities … does this mean I will get back on track and post a bit frequently probably not … distractions are a joy we don’t see that at first.
Late last year I injured my back and while recovering, for several months I found respite from the pain lying flat and reading. A lot, and it seemed to the detriment of my blog and regular posting, also my artwork. For a while, I was angry, about the situation notwithstanding the pain but an uncomfortable imbalance it seemed. However, since I have recovered and remain watchful of my lower back, I have found ways to continue reading, resting and working at the University and also my creativity.
So while the balance is visible and seen as a vital requirement, it is not a working practice.
I don’t think in the real world it will ever be the norm; and for some weeks it has become a niggle and almost a problem. The light at the end of the tunnel remained tantalisingly; at the end of the tunnel.
However, I am coming to the point; I have been reading a book called Bartleby & Co., by Enrique Vila-Matas it is comforting and gives me hope. Not that I will reach the end of the tunnel, more that I am not alone, and it is OK to be happy, not actually finding my way and not completing anything in particular.
The protagonist in the novel, Marcelo, is named after a character in a short story by Herman Melville, who, when asked to do anything would reply ‘I would prefer not to.’ Marcello did write a novel, but never did write another, instead he kept a diary as he searched through literature to find others who had famously not written a novel.
So while I do not come near to being a novelist or an noted artist, I do have dreams that I might become ‘able’ or reach the end of the tunnel. So while I keep trying; one more painting, print, or blog post, my note books, sketch books and journals get fatter; I think ‘just let the light flicker’ I am in no rush … I don’t say ‘no’ just ‘in my own time’.
At irregular monotony; is that an oxymoron? I bemoan my lack of formal training, absence of a teacher, mentor, direction, ability, a whinging blah it seems. Yet, these concerns come to the fore; not connected with depression, anxiety or any other mental disorder, this inner crisis pops when …
We feel bereft and aggrieved without the above mentioned props; because that is what they are. Mostly, we don’t need teachers, mentors, managers or directors, we are able to source them at will … ideas, people and providers are available.
When we are creative and energy flows , it feels like divine intervention; overall, it is plain intuition, friendliness, generosity and hard work. Yet, amidst of the emptiness, confusion of unknown, or stuckness, those resources are seen spitefully amiss.
I suppose that is where I was this morning, a blog post to do and random drawings from yesterday looking at me hopelessly.
So, I made good wishes for those who share my demise …
Noon looms and the sketches now torn beyond recognition and a booklet … a Coptic binding Nice!