Its 11:30pm. I am writing at the end of a Friday. I have spent the day working on my PR. In this case it involved me visiting the Jobcentre to sign on because the money I allotted myself is not enough; I had assumed I would be able to hold onto a part time job while I was doing this (I feel that that maybe the case, if I had been more organised). Then returning home, eating some food and busing myself to Kingston to pick up a printer, then onward to Esher to drop some off flyers to the organiser then going home via Weybridge and falling asleep. Waking up and testing out the printer – printing off the blurb onto the leaflets. Success! I have been called lazy though. This kind of affected me – I feel I have to do more than some people who work a ‘full time job’, turn up near 10am and leave 4:30ish.
Tomorrow I have the day free – except for the morning when I have the risk assessment form for the show to complete. I cannot do it now, my word processor will not accept the format. I cannot even see it.
I haven’t heard from my friends who are helping me in a while. Not since Wednesday. It is making me nervous. It is kind of lonely too. I feel like I am responsible, and I am, but less like part of a team, just a director of a work. But I do not really have a closely knit group from University. Everyone I know is scattered. My dear friend Millie is leaving for a big trip:
https://www.facebook.com/34south61north/info
When talking about leaving part time work she exclaimed to me “I may be gone two or three years, when I get back I don’t want to work in a job like this: I’m twenty-seven now”.
My thoughts around Book of Essays:
what is the role of the self in respect to the work on which I extend mine? Where do the audience feature in this – how do we tether ourselves to this work? If the idea is the work, whatever manifests is an extension of the idea. Ideas originate in the Book. But the performance is more than the Book, it is things: thread, cups, light, speech, sound. The audience is part of this too. For the duration of the work they are part of the performance, an extension of the idea. Everything is a component, even the church interior. Just for the duration of the performance.
I think as I read Williams Carlos Williams’ Paterson:
‘Say it! No ideas but in things.’