I’m in the dark place. It’s no good in the dark place. I don’t want to work because I’m getting all churned up about making something that’s not good.
I don’t visit the dark un-trusting place often these days. I’m on a much more even-kilter than I have been in the past. And to top it off I’m making work I enjoy and feel a real sense of connection to. But there’s a whole gambit of pressure with enjoying my work. If I hated it, it would be fine if it exploded in the kiln or smashes or turns out just rubbish.
Alongside this, I’ve been shirking my responsibility as exhibition co-ordinator. I rock at fundraising, proved by the fact that we have hundreds left in the pot. But the marshalling of exhibition books, photographs, artist statements and ordering wine just makes me feel tired. Because we all have to make the decision, so there’s a lot of arguing the design you like but trying to keep your mind open in case someone points something out. It’s exhausting. So Emma has taken all of the slack over the last couple of weeks, which isn’t fair to her, and I end up feeling a bit weird and rubbish and she ends up feeling a bit overlooked. It’s no good, I have to step up to the post and do the job I was elected to do.
To fight this rubbish feeling I’m having fun this weekend, going to a knitting event at the Customs House, celebrating a mates engagement, going for long walks with Daniel, reading and baking. Idylic calm before taking this thing on next week.
Oh-in other news, I had to present my work this week and managed to distract my class through asking them to make figures out of play-dough. Wonder if a board of funders would take to the challenge with the same amount of vim and vigour?
