Getting Somewhere

The content (or Why I Do It)

I think ‘the context’ (or all the Other Stuff in my life) is a necessary but awkward part of my life as an Artist. Rachel the Artist and Rachel the Mother are not separate beings, they infect and influence each other. Yet it feels difficult to acknowledge this, in an art market that caters for artists who can sacrifice their daily life at the drop of a hat to take on a new residency or project, to the detriment of all else. It’s as if having children automatically makes you less committed to your work.

I have a fear that mentioning my personal circumstances could trigger a chain reaction of responses – I will be dismissed as a tedious feminist artist, probably making art as therapy.

I also think that if something seems to be taboo, that’s probably the best reason for talking about it, so that’s why I’ve made it a central factor in my blog. I want to open up the conflict I experience between my creative ambition and my commitment to my family.

Writing down the Other Stuff is Important for the function of the blog; it helps me Remember what I’ve done and feel comfortable and satisfied with my own achievements. It can be difficult to Remember what has actually changed when periods of studio time are erratic and disjointed.

Some days I have to have an argument with myself to get over the guilt I feel for playing/working in my studio instead of chopping vegetables for tea. .. I imagine my children with rickets and put more fruit in their lunchboxes – it comes back bruised and uneaten…

The act of writing this blog helps me to focus on the positive. I will log my progress as an artist, chart the movement of ideas and actions, and include edited images which function as my sketchbook.

Ps. Just to keep you up to date on the context – been up all night with Older Daughter while she threw up – you can probably picture the serene and satisfied vision of motherhood that I encapsulate today, only improved by the faint aroma of vomit on the carpet.

Vertigo

Lots of things have been happening… here's the context to the story.

We are moving from Scarborough to West Yorkshire (hopefully to a village called Honley, near Huddersfield, if we ever find a decent house to rent). This is because my partner's got a job in Dewsbury. I don't know anyone there so I am quite scared and excited.

My landlady wants me to organise appointments for estate agents, HIP assessors etc. She lives in France and wants to sell the house. I wish I hadn't been so generous in the amount of notice I gave her about our move. She could still be blissfully unaware, and I could stay submerged in the never ending tide of mess and chaos in the house.

My partner is in Iceland for a week and I have just spend 2 days completely housebound with my youngest daughter – she's had a stomach bug. It's made me feel quite shut down – too much time inside my own head, unable to do anything with any of my thoughts. If I get up to get something from the other side of the room, she jumps up and clings on to me, 24hours a day. I've had to cancel a meeting at Scarborough Art Gallery, after spending every spare minute preparing images and notes to show them. I've also missed the Lonely Arts Lunch – a rare opportunity to get together with other isolated creatives in the Borough.

Young Daughter (6) said 'mum, I've got a feeling and I don't know what it's for, and I don't know where the feeling is.' I couldn't put it better myself. She's getting better now; 'it's like I've jumped on 500 trampolines straight after dinner'.

I'm perpetually worried about money, and rent is more expensive in West Yorkshire. As a result I've taken on lots of work, and now it's all whirling round my head all the time. I have freelance a contract with Creative Partnerships Hull, as a Creative Agent, brokering relationships between 4 schools and various creative practitioners (artists). I've just taken on a contract with engage co-ordinating the final stages of their envision programme – it's hard picking up someone elses job half way through, but it's really interesting work. I teach short courses, 'Community Art Skills' and 'Unlock your Creativity' for University of Hull. It doesn't sound much when you see it written like that, but it feels like a lot.

I've been diagnosed with vertigo! I think it sounds almost exotic, so maybe I can sort of get to like it. I keep feeling all swimmy and wonky. Apparently it can be triggered by a virus or by stress. Apparently it should go away within six weeks.

Finally – wait for it – this is the biggee… I've just heard about my ACE bid for £10,400 for professional development I got the money – WAHOO! What a fantastic endorsement of my work, my ideas. It's all worthwhile.

So – that's the context.

‘Too many things squashed into a small space.’

I’ve spent an enormous amount of time trying to work out what is the right Question to ask. I feel like I need a clear line of enquiry, to really distil what I want to say. I’ve Thought about it hard for two weeks. Or, at least, it’s churned round in my head for two weeks, squeezing it’s way in between the hundreds of tedious daily tasks that occupy most of my time. Proper Thoughts get squashed out during school holidays, by squabbling, shrieking, questioning children, piles of washing, toys, preparing meals and organising outings. But the Thoughts lurk around the edges of my mind, biding their time until they can get a proper hold of me. Chewing away at the problem.

I’m feeling dejected because now I realise the only Question I can come up with so far, is the same question that all the Other Mothers bang on about constantly. How can I fit all my jobs into one day, the days just aren’t long enough etc. Got to go now – youngest daughter crying. This is the fairly uninspiring bottom line.

Things I get into character for.

I am sure I remember a time when I was just comfortable being An Artist, and it felt quite natural. I don’t think it was ever easy, but it was what I was happy Being. But memory is a funny thing – memories of how I Felt at any one time seem to change depending on any number of variables. I hope that makes me Interesting not fickle. I think one of the main qualities in An Artist is finding things Interesting. I am especially interested in Memory at the moment. Memories are unstable, unreliable and messy.