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So here I am, feeling completely and utterly lousy. The result, I suspect, of yesterday’s fishcakes and salad. It is 3:25pm and I’m only just able to drag myself from my bed, to the shower, to the armchair, thoroughly exhausted.

Through this haze of blurred vision and wobbly legs and headache, and the other symptoms not to be shared on a public forum, I found myself able, while horizontal, to complete and submit my Arts Council Research and Development application. It is my first ever. Shocking. I am ancient (more of that later) and this is the first I’ve ever done. I feel nauseous now for a completely different set of reasons. I feel it is the best application I could have done… I have drafted, rewritten, got lots of people to read it, and lots of people to support it, and my husband financial advisor has checked that the numbers balance. I am highly motivated to get this right, and I feel confident that I have done my best. The rest is up to some stranger now.

It concerns the work with the bras and the songs. Obviously I will share if and when I get the funding, but for now, not jinxing anything! I am not normally superstitious, but did feel a pang of ominous-ness (yeah, whatever, I used up all my wordiness on the form ok?) when the wire from my bra escaped as I was dressing and poked me in the ribs.

 

We wait with baited breath. Those of you that are veterans to this process, do you still feel sick? Having got yourself all enthusiastic to write the proposal, how do you then get real and forget it?

 

I expect I will need therapy, if I get it, or if I don’t!

 

********

 

Old. Yes.

My lovely, inspirational and supportive MA Course Director, Carol Wild (naming and shaming, getting my own back) is, I think, now, after two years from my graduation, considered a friend, rather than “Miss”…. However…. She has just nominated me for Selfridges “Bright Old Thing” initiative. My first reaction was rather ungracious, and to be honest, I was a bit indignant. I spend my whole life trying to disprove that I am old. But, again, get real, I am. I am Too Old for Turner…

which means I should come to terms with it and take what I can!

Thank you Carol, you said some really lovely things about me and my work, which I will print out and keep next to my Arts Council rejection letter… Balance in all things as Bo would say!

 


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