A Wobble

Suffering the blog-guilt aftermath of forgetting to post yesterday for the first time; trying not to give myself too much of a hard time as I am already suffering the tail-end of one of my periodical wobbles when I lose all confidence in what I am doing. Probably something to do with the rejection from the RGI show; it happens without fail, prompting the 'why do I do this' question..

I am also feeling severly time-challenged this month; working both weekend days in the gallery and the rest of the week in cashdayjob, leaving brief, tantalising intervals in between to nurture my convalescent beloved and finish paintings, put paintings in frames, post blog, read book etc.

Coincidentally (that old chestnut) found one of Kirsty Gunn's novels in the charity shop; Kirsty was a co-worker in the Vogue archives many moons ago, when she was publishing her first book, 'Rain'. I now realise through later internet research that I was once a colleague of a professor who has written professionally ever since, winning awards and raising children, knocking out novels and having them filmed, teaching creative writing and hanging out at seminars with (hero) Annie Proulx...puts life into harsh perspective, which is the other reason I had an attack of the blues for the last 24 hours. It is overly harsh, however, as comparison to someone else is never a recipe for positivity, especially one as talented as Kirsty who is working in a totally different field. I guess in some secret hidden corner of my psyche I have always fancied myself as a writer too; I'll leave that ambition alone until I am safely in my cottage in the middle of no-where and over eighty. One thing at a time. The other terribly sad news the research uncovered is of Allan Robb, who was married to Kirsty's sister, Merran; he died this summer of Multiple Sclerosis. The last time I saw Merran, an artist and also a Vogue librarian (we were a happy band) she was living in Brixton with Allan, having lived in Edinburgh for a while before I ended up here; Allan was a journalist and broadcaster of some note. They divorced at some point, which was presumably sometime in the intervening years, leaving Merran a widow and mother of a twelve-year-old. It is always odd playing catch-up with other peoples' lives and it always sets me off in self appraisal; also makes me consider the first 'noble truth' of Buddhism - 'Life is Dukkha', usually translated as 'suffering'. I always find it quite comforting, not negative, as it kind of makes you realise that it's not just yourself who goes through negativity and pain; it is inherant in our lives and unavoidable.

Fell flat on my face on the way to work today as well; nothing like that to 'bring you down to earth'...for some obscure reason my sore knees felt better today than they have for ages...

Framing tonight; tired but nearing completion.