Pondering identity

And... I'm back. Decided not to chase technology around the Isle of Skye and so had a blog holiday since Monday; didn't intend to do that in my year of blogging but realised that I was setting myself up for stress that was utterly unneccessary. Mum wouldn't have understood my need to chase Wi-fi, or even what it was, and I was better off having a total break from the world. Strange and somehow regressive to spend four days with your mother after so long not doing so; it throws up all sorts of questions of identity (for me) and what is the 'real' me. With mum I am undoubtedly myself; I have known her all my life and in this instance we were retracing steps from over twenty years ago, so much of our past lives together was at the fore. Despite this I know that I am 'leaving out' aspects of my normal behaviour and consciously changing the way I spoke and interacted; so the person I should know most of all is with an edited version of me... Do we do that to everyone? It set me pondering. Probably the most 'me' of me is when I am, like today, all alone for twelve hours, painting, pondering, reading, talking to the cats... and when I travelled to Weston-super-Mare last summer on my own. That trip saw me camping and eating pies on the beach; I resorted to the existence of a beach bum essentially, and that has always been the closest to happy for me. Took some time out from painting angels as well and returned with a sketch book full of two-ended wooden boats, mountains shaped like limpets, vikings, rocks, seals, fish on sticks, and still my continuing obsession with leafy women.

Spent the morning reading the book I took with me which is very me; neurotic, tense stories of characters mistranslating each other, failing to connect, lapsing into their own worlds. The prose is very enticing but much of the sentiment quite dark; A. M. Homes 'Things You Should Know'.

Avoided Lillian Beckwith in the end but saw the books in a few places and contemplated the aptness of the titles; The Hills is Lonely and the Sea for Breakfast makes sense too in a place where it is so constantly present. The island didn't fail to disappoint after all these years and made Arran look like a domestic animal; the mountains are so vast, timeless, wild and rugged. Spent quite a while familiarising myself with the geology which is fascinating and unique; brought home my usual selection of rocks in the boot for addition to my garden. I used to sleep with a particularly lovely rock in times of emotional trauma; is that too much information?...

Received a kind word from an admired artist on Facebook which cheered me greatly; that reassurance that people are not muttering about how deluded you are in your quest for artistic discovery and self-sufficiency. Sold a small print as well, and collected all the frames for the Angel Haven show and the pieces for Number Four gallery. Had to shift the date of the private view again as the Edinburgh Art Fair starts the same evening, so sadly I cannot get the company of my oldest chum from Portsmouth as she is running a fund raiser in London that weekend with some famous folk. Still feeling postive about things though and whalloped through a painting tonight when I finally settled back into the studio; found an awesome photo of my little Swedish friend in a floral headdress with an equally blonde and flowered friend, so off I went on my 'green women' again. This one has been in the thinking phase for weeks, obviously waiting for me to happen upon a photo of people decked out in flowers, so it was one of those happy occasions (hopefully, still to see it in daylight!) when I went right through the afternoon and evening without a break, pretty much finishing by ten o'clock.

Now setting out to right the dietary wrongs of four days subsisting on pies, sandwiches and yoghurt by making a nice yummy prawn and sweet potato curry. Good to be home, but good to have been away.