How brilliant was that?
First night of the show, private view, posh frock, girl shoes, too much merlot! Lots of people to talk to about my work: friends, family, people I knew, people I didn’t. Flowers, presents, hugs, kisses and ‘thank you’s.
This morning, my feet are killing me, the girl shoes have gone back in the wardrobe – they have given my feet a hangover, but my head is fine!
I’m back in there today, on front desk duty, meeting and greeting the public. This is great, because as my work is in the foyer, I can do both things at once!
I didn’t take a single photo – I didn’t have time, so busy was I fraternising. I will take some of the work today, and tomorrow, I shall don the posh frock again, for the rest of my family who will visit then, and get someone to take one or two of me amongst it all. (oh God, that means I’ll have to wear the shoes again – how do you heel-wearing women do it? I strongly feel that shoes are a feminist issue. They are a plot to stop us running away, and to keep us in one place, preferably sitting, (or lying?) down).
Having been so fearful of the end of the course, I will of course, miss it terribly, but I can see many ways forwards. I have loads of ideas and loads of ambition. Why has it taken me till middle age to find ambition for goodness sake? I hope to live to an active, lucid, old age, to enable me to get lots done.
