Goodbye, Mike, if you’re still logging on. It’s been wonderful to be reminded of another degree run-up. I’m not sure that this format isn’t actually more demanding than exams, especially as we took many of ours down at ‘Old College’ gazing out at the sea as it teased the rocks. I certainly hadn’t prepared for those finals as I have for these. There’s something significantly different about working towards a target you have chosen later in life, rather than a teleological progression of conventional education. I’m constantly struck by the number of ‘mature’ students, full and part time, who turn to art degrees. As I said last blog, it’s been very rewarding for me and the test now is what I’ll carry forward.
But back to the present. I’m recovering with a glass of wine after my day out with Vernon. He’s not an easy fellow; big vans of his generation were designed for beefy, macho-men who take their tops off when the sun shines and write profane graffiti on the sun-visors (we have some). I’m a match for most men but I feel no desire to prove I can tame Vernon and usually choose to leave him to my husband. But he wouldn’t take the responsibility of transporting my paintings this morning so he FOLLOWED me! Yes, I did hit the curb twice – sorr-eey – but we did make it intact apart from one of the panels getting stuck to its bubble wrap (touch up Monday).
The electrician held me back by at least ½ a day, much to the ire of our caretaker. He’s a great bloke as long as you’re not bothering him but today I outstayed my welcome. Unbeknown or unexamined to/by me, we were meant to vacate the premises at 12.30 so he could paint the floors. Well the electrician took forever to do the lights (he had spent the whole of yesterday putting up the most pathetic example of lighting and, as one has to in those circumstances, I had to be as politic in my critical appraisal as possible or eureka! – neon strips). So, having lumbered in in Vernon, I was not going to leave without hanging the paintings. We left at 4.15. I couldn’t understand why my foot ached so much. When we stopped to open the gate at home, I took off my shoe to find a staple imbedded ½ a centimetre in my toe…one must suffer for her art.
So this weekend is finalising all the publicity material, research book and the foldout for my little book. I have all the main text and images sorted but I’m not sure it will get finished. We’ll have to see. Monday is final touches: book plinth, signs, etc. All the full-timers have postcards. Postcards? Oh, no… something else to do! And price lists! What? I only have 4 pieces and one is definitely not for sale…oh, pass the wine… takeaway tonight folks. Last instalment next week.
