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Viewing single post of blog Diary of a Foundling Artist

I missed a seminar yesterday because I had to teach. It was about pricing and selling my work which is something I have always had difficulty with. When someone asks to buy something I've made I have to fight down an urge to give it to them and then run away. If asked to come up with a price I always think I'm asking too much or too little. I'm not philosophically averse to selling, if selling meant I could escape the increasingly awful experience that teaching in an FE college has become I'd sell everything: my dogs, a kidney… Shame I missed it.

Today I was tidying up my studio. We have an open day coming up and I want to show some of my latest stuff to see if its any good. I'm just beginning a longish film which might be based around a fictive proposal not to go to the Antarctic (as I imagine its quite cold and probably full of artists). Its a bit dark at the moment and is mostly filmed in a washing up bowl. Anyway, I was mainly throwing stuff out and breaking up sculptures that don't look as interesting as they used to when I had a little moment of joy. I noticed a sheet of tracing paper pinned over the heater had risen in the convection current. I set an image of a boat on it and watched as it rose and fell in the swell.


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