Feeling like a Fillyjonk

11.50am ( at the table in the front room)

P has gone back to work, his only real concern was how to keep his support stocking from falling down. He took a crutch and imagined that he would be hitching it up as he walked along the road. I suggested a suspender belt might help and giggled insensitively.

Syd posted a photograph of his head and bare shoulders on Facebook. P was concerned that perhaps he shouldn’t be representing himself like this, but I thought it was rather lovely that he was celebrating his burgeoning sensuality and celebrating his body. I understood P’s  perspective; we do live in a body obsessed society. We do objectify the male form. The whole person is just as important as the body. Still, I am pleased that he is confident about his physicality. I was a timid teenager, that felt very ashamed about my body, I am glad that he hasn’t picked up on my neurosis. I am glad that I did’nt grow up having to negotiate the complexities of social media. Is it robbing our children of their childhoods?

The washing machine is drying some tea towels, its sound is gentle and reassuring. Outside it has stopped hail stoning and there is some blue in the sky. It will change again soon though, the grey and wet will return.

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I went for a walk. A daydream plodding walk. I needed a day off from thinking and the studio and being anxious. The walk was interrupted by a call about some training and a volunteering opportunity with the sure start centre. I am not sure though; its in Halifax. I am not sure about anything. least still what I am actually being offered. I will wait for the email. If I have to volunteer to get a job, I will volunteer. I have severe reservations though. I am not convinced it will lead to a job, but maybe it will get me out, get me thinking of something other. Stop me from feeling STUCK, keep me occupied, make me more confident. Broaden my horizons.

 Time passed and the rain went on falling. There had never been an autumn when it rained so much. The valleys along the coast sank under the weight of all this water that was streaming down the hillsides and the ground rotted away instead of just withering. Suddenly summer seemed so far away that it might just as well have never been and the distances between the houses seems greater and everyone crept inside.

Moominvalley in November, Page 15, Tove Jansson

I completed reading Naoise Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and the new Moomin books have arrived so we are back in the fantasy world of Finland. I am much happier in the cozy Moomin Valley with all the lovely characters that live there. I would rather search out Moominmama than sift through the dark of Dahl.

I am like the Fillyjonk;  I have shelves of pretty china and plates, surplus to requirements.  I am anxious and nervous and clumsy. I enjoyed reading the story about the Fillyjonk, balancing on her roof and struggling to clean her windows.

I speak to my mum on the phone, she sounds very fed up, they are waiting for the roof on their house to be replaced. The bad weather has stalled the building work and they are dealing with large leaks and emptying bucket upon bucket of water.

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Naoise friends are coming to play this evening. I need to get on, finish up with this; its been good to take life slow, to enjoy the space of the house to myself.

This project is almost done, and I think I am glad as it is taking its toll and I don’t always want to be honest and share and  I think I am over analysing and it is taking away from the creativity rather than aiding it. Creativity does not need to be explained, its not a formula. Some things cannot be rationed out. Some times its best not to explore emotions. Some times its best not to try and fix things, to change the narrative. Some times its best just to get on with and let the day go by and the next become another.


18 Habits of Highly Creative People, Caroline Gregorie, 11/15/2015, The Huffington Post


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