To be honest, I can’t wait to get in amongst it.
It’s all there, just waiting now.
The work is trotting along nicely for “ONE” next month; A small group of Junction artists and I have a month at Wolverhampton Art Gallery next year; The funding applications and work for the trip to NY in April is bubbling under; and at some point, I want to get myself over to Bulgaria… all the plans for the project there are in my sketchbook just waiting to happen.
My fingers itch with the thought of it.
There’s a countdown going on in my head (think Thunderbirds, not NASA).
You see, right up to the point where we open the doors on “ONE” it will all be of someone else’s making. Or an assignment. Up until that point it’s just Rodney and Del Boy saying “This time next year we’ll be millionaires!” It’s all a fiction, a figment of my imagination.
At the point when that door opens on October 28th it’s real, and it’s me.
There is of course, an inherent stressy panic thing going on…
Occasionally though when this thought catches me unawares, I am electrified by it. It zings through my head and shoots down my spine. My hands shake and I get a bit giddy. I giggle a little bit… teetering on the edge of hysteria maybe… I have used the words obsessive, and addictive, and engrossed… It is a good job it is only occasionally, because it is quite overwhelming.
I can’t believe I have spent such a long time NOT doing this! What happened to all of these thoughts when I wasn’t doing this? No wonder I nearly went bonkers! I have these thoughts, they mill around my head until my hands find a way to express them, make them known. And now I am expressing them, I can put them up for people to see. Some of it comes from a very personal place… some of that shows, thankfully most of it doesn’t. But whatever ends up on the walls or hanging from the ceiling or piped through to your ears… it is the contents of my head. It took me a long time to get here, and I’m not a young woman. I also look at all those much younger artists around me: Do they appreciate it? Do they realise how amazing it is to live like this? Or is it just because I am older, and it’s taken me a while to get here that I feel this way?
So, when I am being a moany, cynical old blogger, point me back to this post. I hope I never lose this feeling of excitement and possibility.
