Made it to Friday
1.48pm (in the studio)
I made it to the studio.
Naoise wouldn’t wake up, he lay snoozing on the sofa under the lime green blanket. The others have gone. I juggled washing up with phone calls to the doctors. Its very difficult to make a doctors appointment at 8am, you are always put on hold, placed in a que. I leave my mobile phone on loud speaker so that I can get on with other jobs while I wait for the receptionist to answer.
The green pram still waits.
I am waiting.
Occasionally patiently waiting.
Mostly just about keeping festering, simmering frustrations at bay.
I’ve wrapped up the framed picture. Today I had 40 minutes to work. 40 minutes is an insufficient amount of time to work as an artist, to find paid work, to keep up with my practice. I need to be focussed. Helping others is great but I’m not helping myself. I need to maintain me. Keep some time in reserve. Carve out creativity. Act on my ideas. Re-write that funding proposal. Re-imagine.
I drove my friend to the charity shop in a warehouse on the outskirts of Rochdale. We were horrified by the price of the second hand furniture. We bought nothing and raced back home it transpired that it was cheaper to buy goods from second hand dealers in Todmorden. Its wrong to try and make money out of people living on the bread line. The charity shop prices were unethical.
This is Cameron’s Britain, where even charities operate to make profit from the poor. O was pleased that the good business people of Calderdale are not over pricing their goods. Shop Local.
I made and my friend some scrambled eggs on toast for lunch. The eggs were deliciously yellow. As yellow as the summer sun. I enjoyed having some lunchtime company. I spend most days alone.
I had to drop off some jeans for Naoise in a bag, I forgot that it was jeans for jeans day. The receptionist made me smile even she had forgotten.
Syd was delighted that he got school dinner money today, Naoise was not impressed, he prefers sandwiches.