I chatted to one of the Other Mothers in the playground this morning. She asked what I’ve been up to and I told her I’m making a film for a show at Scarborough Art Gallery Coffee Lounge. She said;
‘but why would you spend all that time doing that? If it doesn’t earn you money and it doesn’t get the house tidy, I just don’t get why you do it…’
I couldn't really answer her in a way that she would understand, and got a bit embarassed. I laughed and muttered something about how I know it's quite ridiculous.
When I get home I feel angry that I undervalued my work, that I didn't defend my right to be different.
