I went manic

Hi there.  Long time no see….

My exhibition happened a couple of months ago.  Was a success.  There will be words about this later, but the prospect of sitting down and writing about it makes my head hurt still, so I’ll dip my toe in and put up some pictures and try not think about how badly I burnt myself out.

(I worked solidly between March and August on my show, discarding lots of ideas and half-finished pieces along the way while waiting for my ideas to shape themselves.  In Mid-June.  From then on I’d work my very physical day job, come home at 7, eat dinner, and work on art things til about 11pm at least four nights a week.

Then, predictably, once the show was hung, I dropped the bundle big time and ran screaming in the opposite direction as though the bundle was huntsman spiders, not the rampant self-promotion that I was supposed to be doing.)

So here you and I are, after nearly four months of radio silence.

Before I dropped the bundle I went manic in the way that all artists do – The night before my exhibition got hung, I started Just That One Last Thing, that Thing that would bring it all together and make your vision perfect:



To this in the morning before work:



To this about 3pm on the day of the opening:



To this, one hour later, when I still had to frame the sucker and clean the house and pick up a friend from the station and get ready for the opening to start at 6pm:



Of course, life being what it is, the first thing I did (about 4:30pm) in the house-cleaning post-framing scheme of things was to clean out the cat’s litter tray, as dirt is one thing and filth is another.  Picked up the dustpan to sweep up the litter that had been kicked out of the trays.  Cat.  Wee.  EVERYWHERE.  This cat that I was looking after had chosen to protest my poor housekeeping standards that week (as cats don’t know, nor do they care about things such as art openings) and peed in the dustpan, and I didn’t find out until it was too late.


So I ended up late to my own party.  They even phoned in case I’d keeled over in a ditch somewhere.




She ended up fabulous:



And she sold on the night. 


Sometimes a little bit of crazy can do you good.


(Cats, however…)