Work is taking a lesser priority this weekend as I am running in the Silverstone Half Marathon tomorrow, with sore knees.
This is in preparation for the London Marathon which I will be running in April in aid of RNIB. Much as I love running, the main challenge with it (note positive reframing) is that – and there is not way round this – running a long way takes a long time.
TIme and again I am worrying about time – or rather lack of it. I start to think that if I spent less time worrying about time i would have a bit more time.
There is no direct link between my running and my work – although I did recently consider that it is just yet another self imposed ‘displacement activity’. Either that or a strange kind of escapsim. It is true that it is, like driving, quite a good way to generate (or release) ideas.
Anyway – I hope to have lots of good ideas over tomorrow’s 13.1 miles – and that, with no sketchbook to hand, I can remember them long enough to write them down at the finish line.
I sent my form and pics in for the RA Summer Exhibition today – not holding out much hope – cursing myself already for wasting £50 on such folly (and my father is fuming with steam pouring out of his ears at the thought).
I submitted WORN a couple of years ago and got nowhere. I was a little gratified when I visited the exhibition (snarling all the way) to see that there is proportionally a teeny amount of sculpture in there. I suppose they have so much wall space and not much floor space.
So this year I thought – SOCKPAINTINGS! except they too have a bit of a problem with them in that they are ‘interactive’. I have never seen this sort of work at the Summer Exhibition – it is probably too temperamental and problematic.
So I await the thud of rejection again…. (I hope to be proved wrong).
I had an interesting and unusual start to my morning, taking my mother to a fundraising ‘Marmalade Morning’. Coming away with two very eclectic jars (‘marmalade and black treacle’ and ‘rosy pink grapefruit and pomegranate juice’) I had a very interesting conversation with a fellow marmaladeateer. My mother introduced the lady as ‘an amazing embroiderer’ so we were at once on common ground as my degree is in said subject. I have heard accounts of her amazing skills and am always fascinated by ‘technical skills’ something which I have in a small degree but which is not something that I have particularly pursued. I always feel very humbled in the presence of people with a lifetime of dedicated skill (she has made many beautiful church kneelers) and felt somewhat strange about showing her photos of my work (I always have to get my phone out with pics as words always defeat me).
Thankfully she overlooked my basic techniques and was genuinely intrigued by my ‘very unusual’ work.
It is gratifying to realise there is a middle ground between great idea and skilled technique.
Reading Elena Thomas’ latest blog posting:
www.a-n.co.uk/p/1322260
has made me think about how and where I work best and somehow I find that my studio, home and mind all seem to be inextricably linked. All seem to be full. With little room to manoevere.
I have realised that my ideas for work seem to pour forth at times away from these places – mainly driving in my car between home to studio. Most days, the 10 minute journey provides at least 3 pages of sketchbook scribble as if it is all saved up ready to emerge, fully formed, during the process of driving.
This is making me reconsider the plans to build a studio space onto our house so that I can work from home – is this a bad idea – will I be forced to drive pointlessly around the block for inspiration or will some other mind displacement activitiy take the place of a drive? Is it the separation from real life – a 10 minute limbo – that provides the clarity essential when your life is brimming with stuff and noise?
I’ve been suffering from an extreme case of ‘overload’ today – with the resultant symptoms of ‘headless chicken’ and ‘rabbit in headlights’ lack of productivity.
Keen prioritiser that I am, I decided to do a bit of therapeutic/meditative label sewing instead of all the urgent jobs (along with stuffing some unopened bills under the carpet).
Here is a picture (kindly taken by studio assistant/father – who has taken a week off from helping me to fix MANY bird boxes) of me stabbing my fingers and getting cross when labels somehow manage to unstitch themselves (HOW?).
897 labels to date.
