I’ve sunk down through Out of Sorts, nestled into my grief, and given the unsettling sadness a big hug like an old friend.
I have found another gear that I didn’t know existed.
In this extra month between the unsuccessful trip to the hospital and the rearranged one in twelve days time, I have “let go”. I’ve not been to the studio other than to drop things off and pick things up. I have added to the selection of books and have finished off two more that were on the pile.
Before there was a bit of a desperate frantic edge to my collecting of things at home for my post-surgery occupational therapy. But I seem to have found another gear – an extra layer of calm acceptance…
Over the last few days of beautiful weather I have sat in the garden. It’s been between 18° and 21°… perfect for me… I’ve pottered about, listened to birds, potted on seedlings and hung out washing.
In the house I’ve not bothered much about housework but I have tidied up my pile of post op activities and actually started doing them! Knitting and sewing mainly. Repairing clothes, and reconfiguring a vintage patchwork generously given to me by Kate following her Big Sort Out. I’ve not touched my sketch book though, curiously.
I think… maybe… I’m on holiday?
Well… the surgery was cancelled at the last minute, (I won’t bore you with the details) so I am now in a state of limbo. All that preparation at home and in the studio now has me in a sort of holding pattern. My studio is clear, and handed over to Alice, my freezer is full of pre-cooked food, the house is clean and tidy, the washing up to date. My diary is empty. So what to do now?
I had piled up a load of books for post-op reading. One of which I have now read (the daft frothy fiction one for easy reading) and will need to get another for when I go in next time. But the others are sat on the desk, waiting. But somehow I can’t bring myself to open them. I haven’t got the head for it yet.
I also heard yesterday that one of my songwriting/musician friends has died. This has completely knocked me for six. I am devastated and keep having little cries about him. He was a wonderful kind, generous, gentle and talented man. I admired him greatly and he will be sorely missed. He was a co-writer for some of my Nine Women songs, and played bass and mandolin for a few recordings too. He accompanied me on a live local radio programme at the time. I was so nervous about it, but he was so reassuring and supportive. He was in the band at the start too, and helped form the way we are. I feel privileged to have known him and worked with him, and I can’t believe I will never see him again, or hear him play live… or have a hug and a drink with him. The world is a poorer place without him in it.
So. I am not in a place mentally where I can do anything much creatively, although I do feel I could write some lyrics about my friend. But they will probably be mawkish and sentimental. But I should just do it.
Three of my small drawings on fabric have been selected for the RBSA Drawing Prize Exhibition… I have tried to write a short statement thing about six times and just can’t get it right. The phrase “out of sorts” comes to mind…
