Once upon a time there was an old, grey, stone house on a hill where there lived a small person with cobwebs in her hair. She surrounded herself with paper and fabrics and half finished things made of wool or sticks; books towered on every surface and the cupboards were so full of “things that might be useful one day” that it was unsafe to open doors for fear of avalanche or dangerous distraction from the task at hand. In the nearby woods lurked an imaginary black dog who howled rudely in the mornings and said mean things in the night but was usually frightened away by the smell of coffee at elevenses. After lunch a friendly but wistful bear would lumber into the garden, curl into a ball around a tree and refuse to move; even when offered cake. He had no desire to travel far and was happy just watching the garden as it grew around him.
Well, it’s been a funny old week and quite eventful. We looked after a lovely puppy who didn’t realise that cockerels aren’t play things and couldn’t resist the flapping, panic stricken thing who eventually had to play dead (or perhaps he fainted) leaving a trail of feathers like an exploded pillow. Only his pride was hurt luckily and I’m sure his tail will grow back- thought it was awful to imagine his hens sniggering behind his back ( they stayed safely in bed of course). In other chicken news Egg1 is due to hatch on Thursday and Egg2 the following week. If it works I’m hoping to send off for some rare breed eggs to start my new empire. Then bees, bees are next because thats what Sherlock Holmes did when he retired. Is it too soon for that?
It was fantastic to get a couple of exciting commissions last week and an invitation today to meet a couple of artists whose work I love. Solitude suits me but sometimes it is vital to actually venture out into the world to exchange experiences with other creative people and try to remember table manners and how to converse in a two way exchange. So many of us sit alone in our work spaces trying to make and create in relative isolation- so communication with each other, real or virtual, can be the bright spark in the day.
Anyway, desperation and several evil bills sent me out last week for a “trial” at a nice coffee shop in town. Part time hours sounded good and I loved the place …however, having washed up for nothing for nearly 4 hours I was asked to come in for a couple of hours one evening ( this involved buying uniform as I’d optimistically binned all my old black and whites when I got the job at the gallery). Half an hour before going in I got a call saying the job had gone to a “young lad” so there was no need. Ah, the job market is a fickle thing and I can only hope it was a reminder not to give up on creativity rather than a sign that businesses will always chose someone on the lower rate of minimum wage over one with experience and can basically get unemployed people to work for nothing if they call it a “trial”.
Enough vitriol. The sun shone today and I cut firewood in the garden, watching the increasingly excitable birds on the feeders and the daffodil buds poking through the earth and daring it to snow. I listened to murder mysteries on the radio and finished a couple of cushions with a hot water bottle up my jumper and really thats pretty much perfect.
Until next time x