Threads

Myself as template… I started out fitting it, after all, I made it for myself….then bit by bit I push bits over the edge… Stretch out from it or pull back from it… Until I notice I have grown and no longer fit it at all and the shape is unrecognisable… I have become a different person. Sometimes people notice and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they are happy for the change, sometimes not. Or they insist there has been no real discernible change. Sometimes they don’t notice, and sometimes they don’t care. They carry on using as if you were still the template you used to be. Because that works better for them. This will never work for me. Find a new situation where the new template fits… then push out again!

My haircut as mentioned in a previous post, is the physical manifestation of the changing template. That and my recent penchant for wearing dresses. My hair used to be one of the things that polite people used to describe me to others. What will they use now? Maybe they will be less polite, and just say short, fat and old.

This has been wandering around in my head for quite some time. Marion Michell brought the word template to the front of my brain, where it slotted in nicely, and gave shape to the thoughts. Thank you Marion. Maybe that is why your work always finds a deep point in me, and pokes a sharp stick at it.

www.a-n.co.uk/p/2157883/

(To my readers, THIS is my 300th blog post… so I shall be like the queen and have an official birthday! Thanks for reading my twaddle)

I feel a little on the edge again…

At a sort of leaping off point. I should read back over some of this blog, because I’m sure I’ve written about this before.

A couple of posts back I wrote of being on the cusp… I’m teetering on the edge now…

Don’t you think there are moments in life, those “straw that broke the camel’s back” moments, where suddenly you just have to do it… whatever “it” is? I’ve had several, where I suddenly realised I should be doing something that I’m not…

One more thing and I’ll push myself over…

I changed my job, I did the MA, I had all my hair cut off. Some people might see the last as a trivial thing, but I had a hell of a lot of hair… it formed a large part of how I saw myself… and I suddenly discovered I was hiding under it. (I looked like one of those sheep that stay out on the moors for three years and don’t get sheared.)

I stand in front of all these possibilities: collaborations, journeys (actual, not the X-Factor variety) exhibitions, a studio, challenges, work that I can’t wait to get my teeth into…

And I think I need to make a leap at all of it, invest some faith in myself for a change. I tell my friend Bo that I don’t think I have faith in God, but faith in people. I think I am a natural collaborator, despite my lack of social skills and occasional insensitivity (at least one of my friends (Helen) has just spat out her tea). I have faith in others: their ability, humour, patience and skill.

I think I will always need someone else to bounce off, argue with, ask for advice, teach me, laugh at and with, who will laugh at me too. Someone with a different view to stop me becoming isolated and inward looking. It is precisely because of my anti-social nature and insensitivity that I need this. How dreadful would I become without the practice?

Don’t get me wrong, I can be fairly sociable, amiable for the most part. But as I get older I have become more selective. Sometimes, I can’t be bothered with people. I like peace, quiet and solitude, space to think properly.

It’s all about balance I suppose. Surround myself with the right people, and then tell them to leave me alone! Ha!

Two things:

One:

Attended the first Songwriters’ Circle last night.

Much of it went over my head. I have not had the tiniest bit of a musical education. The technical stuff went over my head by a mile. Dan was apologising to the group for being patronising, while I was getting clammy of palm and sweaty round the collar, screaming inside “Run away run away! Too difficult! Don’t understand!” He set homework that might as well be quantum physics to me. But… I shall endeavour to engage with it on my own level, and do my best. I am happy to have the role of village idiot if it exposes me to all the rest of the joy of the evening. All of the others are musicians, of varying levels and experience, some have bands. Some have such prodigious talent it makes me wilt into my seat in envy and admiration. The best bit is, I will get to collaborate with them. (They are probably at this very moment, hoping they don’t pull the short straw to collaborate with me.) I am coming at this from a completely different angle to anyone else. I want to build coherent sound into my work. I want it to be good enough and listenable enough for people to take it away in their heads from my work. I’m after structure, hook, familiarity of sound, connected with a collage of recorded domesticity and comfort… and a small amount of discomfort, snuck in through the back door.

I played the piece Dan had helped me put together for my masters… just to show people what I was aiming for… I don’t really know if people connected with it… they were very polite and supportive. Time will tell I expect.

I had a blast though, listening to all that new music, fresh ideas. It is exhilarating. I will need to concentrate, listen harder, it is proper listening.

For those of you like me who haven’t done this sort of thing, it is like Masters level crit listening… not radio listening, or cd in the car listening. Proper hard careful listening.

Mouth-watering, ear-dancing, brain-tingling stuff!

Two:

It is official.

I am the stupidest, luckiest person in the entire West Midlands.

I was so over-stimulated by the whole musical experience, I left my bag containing: lyric note books, sketchbook, charge leads, camera and yes, MacBook(!!!) in the bloody loo on the way out.

It took me an hour and a half to do the 8 mile journey this morning to get there for when they opened at 9 to get it back, not even knowing if it was still there. I had also left it switched on. Password protection totally useless.

But yes. I have it back.

The relief is thick enough to spread on my toast.

Well.

Feeling very brave, I sat at the computer, and booked my flights.

A traumatic, stressful, infuriating experience that took about two hours.

But it is done.

I now have paid tickets that will take me from my beloved Birmingham all the way to Buffalo… via Paris… and New York…in both cities I will only see the airports… doesn’t count does it?

It is the furthest I have been on my own, and feels like the hugest adventure. I am exhilarated, terrified, I feel invincible and vulnerable all at once…

I feel it’s like a right of passage. After this, I will REALLY be an artist!

However…

Before I get me there, I have to get the work there.

Why didn’t I draw a nice little thing on some crumpled up tracing paper? Or send that little pair of fabric shoes? Why didn’t I do something with feathers and bubblewrap?

No.

Elena Thomas, bloody idiot, has to have the idea of stitching onto an army greatcoat.

A genuine WW2 army wool greatcoat, that weighs about 14kg without packaging.

This I have to finish working on, and get to America before the end of March.

So… if anyone is going over, and has room in their luggage for such an item, please do let me know. Otherwise it is going to cost me an arm and a leg to ship the sodding thing!

I note with interest this is my 300th post.

300 posts ago, I could not have dreamed or wished such a thing could happen…

Holding pen…

I find myself in limbo again… on the cusp… playing a waiting game…

I don’t know if I’ve got a studio yet… interview pending

I’m not sure if I can raise the rest of the money for NY… but need to book my tickets soon… making a leap of faith…

Got a new boss… like having a new job… very unsure still…

Wish I knew…

There’s another project I’m sort of clinging on to. I started it a while back, thinking it could be really good. But actually, now I’m not so sure. Do I stick with it or say goodbye and move on? It could be good for me, look good on my cv, or could be a millstone around my neck. I think I am very nearly at the point where I have to commit properly, and I’m wavering.

I don’t know if it feels like this because everything else is a bit wobbly, or if my instincts are correct. It could be one of those things that takes up all my time, stresses me, leaves me no energy for my own work…

I suspect 2014 will shape up nicely, I have loads of things in the pipeline that I’m really looking forward to… but this other thing is a bit of a cloud…

Do I ditch it now, or cling on a bit longer?

I wish I could have a glimpse into the future…

Wishing…

Isn’t really helpful in some ways, as it is rich in fantasy, separate from the real world, can lead to unrealistic expectations or desires. I stopped buying glossy life/home style magazines years ago as I realised they were stopping me enjoying what I already had. I know that I live a blessed and fortunate life compared to probably 95% of the people on this planet. I am probably already living someone else’s fantasy life. So I need to be thankful and get on with it! Even the bits I don’t like very much at the moment.

But Wishing…

In other ways is what keeps me pushing forward. If I think I can never have what I wish for, I would just grind to a halt. What would be the point? Also, a rich fantasy life cheers me up! It is the ultimate in internal personal imaginative creativity! The three things I am wishing for at the moment are not actually totally beyond the bounds of possibility… One of them is nearly happening, and the other two might need a bit of time or a bit of a nudge. There is one more, totally rooted in the fantasy, that I know will never happen, but it keeps me warm.

While it keeps me warm, I will plod on with the waiting game, the job, and the hunt for a studio. I will sit in limbo, on this comfy bit of cusp, until something pushes me off… one way or the other…