More sorting Monday

5.10pm

foxgloves

Naoise is playing at his friends house. Its wet, damp, rainy, humid, miserable. I am not miserable, Syd is home. I am cranky with period pain, but I have my eldest son home and so the nest is full and happy.

The open studios were a demoralising experience, yes it was lovely that friends made an effort to visit and have a coffee, yes that was good but I can’t stand being polite and on my best behaviour with people I do not know. I am not very good at this selling yourself malarky, and I am never convinced that Hebden Bridge is the right audience for the work I make. The reactions therefore from a mainly conservative crowd are not all that surprising. Art that questions that challenges, that affects does not fit into this green and beautiful place. In these claustrophobic hills there is no space for working counter to idealised perceptions of motherhood. Art that rages just won’t do. Art that hasn’t been made to look “nice” and to match the decor of the front room does not have a place. I don’t have a place here. Its ok to make here but to show here is that worth it….I am not convinced. So much shuffling past my space and looks of disdain. Opinions, judgements.

Laughter and tears and smiles.  Having my portrait drawn by a child. Watching her happily pin it to the wall of my studio.

Syd says” I think you should stop.” Syd says “I don’t want you to write that” Syd says ” Is it like a diary” Syd says ” Stop writing everything that I say”

We laugh. He is eating a pizza. He is annoyed that I might be writing about him and wants me to stop. He tries to delete my words.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

MUmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Syd says ” My mum is a big fat fart….delete it…just delete it, EVERYthing I say you have to write, not funny, just annoying. ”

I have had a dull day clearing out a small boys life time of toys and clothes from his room, the woman in the charity shop thought that I was moving home. I filled the entire boot with the unwanted plastic, cloth and ephemera.

I can’t write this now. Syd is demanding my attention and I don’t enjoy listening to the sound of pizza moving around his mouth, its not very inspiring.

Must go and get Naoise.

Syd reads my words and taunts me with his pizza and opens his mouth and pretends to be absolutely disgusting with his manners.

 

 

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