Restarted

Yesterday I did the first workshop at St Michael and All  Angels church in Macclesfield, as part of my Diocese of Chester commission.

It took an hour and 20 mins to get there, which was a bit of a pain, but the diocese covers a vast area and I’ve been assured that that one is the furthest I would have to travel.

It actually took a week to prepare for it, which I really must bear in mind when I work out costs for future projects.  The event lasts for a week, but I was only required to be there for the one day (thankfully – given the amount of travelling!)  So that meant that I had to prepare materials and instructions,  not just for the day, but for the week ahead.

I thought the best thing to do was then to make up a stack of paper fish all at different stages – very Blue Peterish, but it seemed to work.

I arrived half an hour early at the church  to set up the tables, but rather than start straight away, they began an hour long mass.

I won’t lie, its a long time since I’ve been to church and I knew none of the songs, so I just stood there like a lemon.

I don’t know if many will turn up to the drop in sessions at the church. I keep checking the website and social media sites and can see very little promotion.  Maybe the A board they had outside would normally be enough to attract people?

Its one of the frustrating things about being commissioned to do something – not that I’m ungrateful in any way (!) but I’m so used to not relying on others.

Today i was filmed in my studio to promote the workshops and eventual installation I will be making for Chester Diocese.

Gawd, it was awful.   I was under the impression that the photographer was just going to take a few snaps of me and my work, but when he arrived with tripod, cameras (yep more than one) and an assortment of mics, I started to worry.

I hadn’t been sent a list of questions so although I could answer the basic ones about my background, others really floored me. I just hope that its well edited.

The other thing that I was uncomfortable with was that he kept referring me as a  ‘Community artist’ which I’m not.  To me, a community artist is someone who works on community projects most of the time, whereas I only work with the community occasionally .

Is there actually a difference or am I being picky?

Part of me just wants to get on with the making and not worry about all this publicity nonsense.

That’s really why there’s such a gap between my blog posts – I’ve been working away making my paper fish but not really felt the need to talk about it.

Suppose that will have to change.  Sigh

Within days of being told of the commission Ill be working on, I was invited to visit SAMS – The scrap arts materials store in Blackburn.

I hadn’t even had the chance to get my head around what I was going to do, before this came up. It made me slightly nervous to just jump in like this – to gather materials , not knowing what I wanted or how much I’d need.  I was so used to having my ‘thinking time’ and it was hard to adjust.

I’d already gotten rid of my car and studio when I left work as I found them unnecessary expenses.  I now realise that transport and storage are going to be challenging, but I’ll play it by ear until it does become a problem. Last thing I want is to be paying out for things.

So I got a cheap train up to Blackburn and was met at the station, by Harriet – the event coordinator.

The store room was pretty amazing – full of , well, scrap arty things as the name suggests.

The idea was to fill a shopping trolley and pay £25 ( which Harriet would pay)   I didn’t know what to choose, so I had to work out the basics of the installation as I walked round, trying to find things that would be useful.

As I’m used to working with paper, I initially picked up a wallpaper sample book with amazing colours and designs in, plus some rolls of coloured paper and some calendars . Then I got bolder, choosing metres and metres of material – net, lace and ribbons.  No ideas were forming with those, but again, I’ll see what can be done. The trolley was full in no time.

Harriet loaded up her car and said she would store everything until I found space.

The train back had my head pounding – what to do with the stuff, where to store it…and how on earth I’d get it back to mine.

Anyway… one day at a time as they say.