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Time for a shuffle about.


During the hanging of the latest exhibition at ArtSpace by my life drawing group, all the rubbish, tools, and general detritus – you know the type of stuff I’m sure – has been unceremoniously dumped in my studio.


As I sat there this afternoon, turning in my spinny chair, I took stock. There are things there that I moved in with me during the first days and weeks, that actually, I don’t use or need. Things have been put in a space because that is where the space is, but actually, the capacity for their function isn’t very good.


So what I need to do is decide what should/shouldn’t be there. Then I probably need to move things out, including furniture maybe. I need to think about what I do in that room, and where the equipment should go in order to enable me to do it without having to shuffle stuff about every damn time!


I think I may need Briony Lewis. She is a genius when it comes to these things. And she’s really strong too. And her knees work!


I think I basically now need two work areas, one for sound equipment, and one for making. And they need to be set up so that I can sit at whichever one I want, without the clutter from the other getting in the way… hmmmm…..




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It’s not a T-junction or a crossroads. It’s more like that gentle uphill curve in the road that winds around a hill. You can’t see very far ahead. You can’t see where it’s going, what the landscape is other than your immediate surroundings. I was born in Malvern and spent my life with analogies such as these. From my bedroom window I could see the weather roll in over the hills. My mother came to know exactly how much time she had got before she needed to get the washing in… Because she could see it coming. But once you got up there, up close, you had no idea. At certain times of year you could go round a bend and swoop between the trees and suddenly find an isolated patch of fog so thick you couldn’t see the front of your own car. Or a nasty patch of ice the sun couldn’t get to. Or a gap in the trees through which the sun could temporarily blind you.
Analogies that pop back into my head. I can map this period of my life to a journey up, around, through those hills. At the moment I am on that long upward curve. I can’t see very far ahead… But I know the conditions will change. You have to be prepared for anything. Wellies and Sunhat. Kendal mint cake?

I can feel it coming.
I don’t know what to pack.