University of Kent

So many questions this week.

How do I get these budgies back into the cage?

Why do some people still think a mullet (the haircut, not the fish) is a good idea, and why do so many of them live in my village?

Why does the lollipop lady hate me?

Why oh why did Luke have to have an accident with the beard trimmer when I was so looking forward to seeing his Hulk Hogan moustache?

Why did I spend an unbelievably warm, sunny, beautiful day in February shut in a room on my own under fluorescent lights, chipping away at a wooden head?

And why did I never get around to recording any of my bass playing? I saw an ad for a female bassist – I could have had an audition lined up if I had something to show. At least I’d like to think so, and don’t need my bubble burst just yet, thanks. I was asked to sing at a gig in Essex on Saturday, but I turned it down, thinking that there just wouldn’t be enough time for fitting rehearsals into my university work schedule. I was right. I managed it last year, but this time it’s different. There’s no time for much else, really; there are of course my absolutely sacred extracurricular activities which everything uni-related has to fit around, but the other things, like driving for hours for auditions and rehearsals just has to wait until after June. I dread what the lack of practice has done to my playing… but in a few months I’ll have enough time to put myself into a trance with hours of repeated reggae bass lines.

I could do with a reggae-induced trance – it’s been a seriously cranky week. Rushing out of the studio with fifteen minutes to get back in time to do the school run puts me on edge, there’s no denying, but that’s not what riled me up. It’s having to be the management. After having to explain the catalogue production process and answer the same questions several times over – through a headache – on Monday, I only needed to get a whiff of more form-filling from one of the tutors on Tuesday to tell me I should run away. So I did. I could have taken over the bursary application personally, but I’ve got a wooden head in the sculpture room that looks nothing like it should, and not a lot of time left. So I left the application to someone else and offered consultation services instead… I think it’s been abandoned now. I almost felt bad about it. Almost. The truth is I’m not a natural pencil-pusher, and I’ve got a few too many forms to fill as it is.

At least I have an accomplice in Kate, our group’s go-to girl for graphic design. Seeing her versions of the cover and layout will surely increase my chirpiness levels! I’m desperate to get moving with it by next week. There’s also a rumour that one of our group has decided to drop out of the course; I guess we’ll have to wait until Monday or Tuesday to know for sure. If so, we’ll be down to eight. I wonder if this micro-show is a good or bad thing?

The week hasn’t exactly gone the way I’d planned it. But seeing as I didn’t actually plan it, I can’t really complain.

I did tackle most of the tasks on my list, and some I only tickled, apart from that curation essay, which I swerved… which does make me feel a little guilty, but I figured out which tasks were higher priority because of approaching deadlines and which were just so intrinsically onerous as to deserve putting off. So working by a simple system of “Yeesh, I’d better do that now” and “I just can’t take it any more!” I managed to spit out a few thousand words between a few projects. So whilst only one is entirely finished, that was the one I needed to have done by the end of this week. The others are all well on their way, just a bit of tarting up needed really. And I can always manage a bit of tarting up during the week when the nipper’s in bed.

Although I’d said today would be my dedicated dissertation day, it’ll probably end up being a bit of everything thrown in and stirred up day. I may even get the vacuum cleaner out, but I have to pace myself of course. I put the washing machine on just now – I don’t want to wear myself out eh? I’ve got a few great new references to drop into my dissertation research pot, but I’ve been fairly lazy about doing the ‘re-framing’ that was suggested. Perhaps because I’ve been told that I’d be ok with handing it in as it is just in case I had a nervous breakdown scheduled – I don’t – but naturally I want to tune it until it’s as tight as a snare drum. Which makes me think that I should probably use my snare drum as a coffee table since I haven’t played on this kit since October. Something else to feel guilty about. I haven’t played my bass since the end of October but I don’t feel too guilty about that because someone “liberated” the plug for my amp, so it’s not entirely my fault.

A bit more drawing while I still have the light, working on the illustrations for my exhibition proposal and tackling the painting I really don’t feel like doing but I feel guilty about not doing. When did I get so blasé about topless men?

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Nobody needs to see another ‘woodcarving in progress’ or ‘mould being cast’ shot, so I’ll spare you the pain this week.

Strangely, there’s more to see on that front now than before, as the carving is suddenly starting to take shape and the first plaster cast is curing upside down over a bin in the sculpture room. One tutor was excited by the prospect of casting Phil in some frilly, floral, fragrant material, as a counterpoint to his masculinity, which immediately brought back memories of standing behind a table at some farmer’s/craft market or other, surrounded by ladies peddling their chi-chi handmade soaps. Hence why I then said I didn’t know how I felt about rubbing a soap Phil into my armpits. For this very reason, it must now happen.

I do like the idea of setting up a stall at the local farmer’s market with extravagantly expensive, extraordinarily creepy life-sized soap busts complete with a bit of raffia around their necks for that ‘country’ touch.

What I’ll actually do isn’t yet set in soap (had to do it!) but I’ll see how the first plaster casts go and fiddle around with their placement. I’m so glad to have started carving again though, I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it! I’m still slacking with my painting, but half term’s approach means the chance to hole up in the house and actually paint myself into a corner. Kid-free time means time to concentrate, and I only get a significant chunk of it during these half-term breaks. I’ve got plenty lined up to fill the time, and here’s a bit of it –

Assembling a document for the Professional Practice module containing 3 CVs, 2 artist case studies and a summary of my own activity;

Creating a slide presentation about my practice as well as a portfolio for the aforementioned module;

Writing an essay on curation to accompany the heavily weighted Identity, Synthesis and Exhibition module;

Writing a proposal for the same module outlining work to be made for the exhibition;

Completing a tight second draft of the dissertation;

Finishing the statement for my MA applications.

Apart from doing the actual paintings, of course. And some other domestic stuff I can think of now but I know won’t get done.

It’s also occurred to me that after getting frustrated and backing away from the fundraising aspect of the degree show preparation, there’s been next to nothing done by anyone else, apart from saying they’ll get everyone showing on site to cough up £20. On top of that, getting the funding together for the show is a part of the unit brief. It’s making me itch a bit… I want to set up a site for the show and ask the others to contribute their content to that, and at least that should give us a bit more momentum. I’ve had to admit that this wasn’t what I had in mind for our show, but I’ll make the best of it. We do have our catalogue to be getting on with at least. My job in that sphere is as editor (best possible job for an apostrophe pedant) and I’m supposed to be liaising with our ‘graphics girl’ to set up a template to make it as easy as possible for everyone to pitch in. The problem is, I don’t want to end up with too much more to do, but if I don’t do it, I’m not sure who will.

Last week I was starting to worry. After losing a day in the studio to the drive back down from Derbyshire, by this point I should be pulling hair out. However… I’m not. I’m behind, but I’m not worrying. I’m concerned, of course, but I know I’ll do something about it. In the meantime I’ve at least considered doing something like paperwork. I’ve been preparing a document for the Professional Practice unit, so I assure you that there has been some work going on as well as playing dress-up. I could always say that the dressing-up was part of an investigation into cultural heritage, the post-colonial, feminism and the role of the creole in Antillean history. Right now I’m more disposed to say I just had fun. Although whilst doing some research (by now you should know that I would be one to research my fancy dress costume for authenticity) that in Louisiana after 1786, black and creole women were forced to wear their hair bound in a ‘tignon’ or kerchief as a sign of subjugation… and naturally, the restriction was fought by wearing more and more colourful and elaborate tignons. Seeing illustrations of women in Barbados and the Antilles wearing these headwraps gave me the initial idea, but I’m not sure how this custom related to the American law. I’m sure I’ll find out eventually.

Actually I have a feeling that this new, more laissez-faire attitude is a good thing for me, as long as I can manage it. Coming back from a weekend full of belly-laughs, silliness and old fashioned fun I feel prepared for all manner of calamitous eventualities. The fact that the casting process has taken over my life in the studio still bothers me, but now I trust in one of our tutors’s words last week – “You’ll be fine.”

In fact, that’s what I took away from today’s brief conversation with my art history tutor in the refectory; I mentioned not knowing exactly how to re-frame my essay in the light of her feedback, but she said to sit on it for a week and carry on as I saw fit. Then she said, “I trust you.”

She trusts me! I could have squeaked inappropriately at this statement, but I didn’t, fortunately. It means a heck of a lot – just knowing that you have the confidence of experienced lecturers. So tomorrow I’ll go in to pour the last part of the vinamold, and the week to come will be full of wondrous events which will hopefully have something to do with paint and nothing to do with sculpture.

So while the new boyfriend is undoubtedly a distraction, I’m softening him up to the idea of sitting still for long periods of time while I draw him, so ultimately I shall benefit from this… and it seems that the suggestion of an increase in beardage and the addition of a handlebar moustache has met with approval! Watch out for a visual pogonology – now this is my idea of even more fun!

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