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I’ve always been determined that my blog should reflect the real life of this particular artist. Not just all the good stuff, but how hard it can be, how stressful, as well as how amazingly wonderful it can be.

The last couple of months have been all of those things!

I am on the verge of (hopefully) shipping nine boxes of art, representing twelve years of work over to the USA for a retrospective show, lasting six weeks. (I say hopefully because until they get collected from my house and put on a van, and then arrive safely, I have to stay a little cautious, it’s just my nature.) This is truly amazing, and I am hugely grateful to Debra Eck for asking me.

The process so far has shown me lots of things about myself that I would like to share:

  • I hate all the admin. Passport applications (mine had expired, because I didn’t think I would be going anywhere), form filling, taking photos, parcel wrapping, weighing, unwrapping because you forgot something, wrapping again. I need a PA or an intern. If artists actually invoiced for this “office time” nobody would pay us to do anything.
  • The emotional weight of selecting from twelve years work has been heavy. My work is emotional while I am making it. Bringing it off shelves, out of cupboards and washing, ironing, dusting it down, then assessing it with as much objectivity as I can muster has been tough… is it worth the air fare?
  • The biggest thing though is the nagging feeling “Am I worth the air fare?” Now I don’t want loads of sympathy here, I’m not fishing for compliments or anything like that. I’m just saying that this feels like a big deal opportunity, but I don’t feel like a big deal person. It’s close to imposter syndrome, but something else as well. I was not brought up to expect success. Every success is a huge surprise to me. I always expect it to collapse at the last minute with someone saying “Why on earth did you think YOU deserved THAT?” Some people seem to have the knack of reinforcing this feeling. I am trying very hard not to take on their shit. I have plenty of my own thanks.
  • The process so far has been mentally and physically exhausting both for me and my absolute star of a husband, Mike. If this isn’t love then I don’t know what is. I keep crying… and almost crying. And he keeps just doing what I ask of him, and supplying me with tea on a regular basis.
  • I am so excited I can hardly sleep. I think when the parcels are on the van I will relax a little. But for now there is no room for anything else.
  • I am managing myself by looking at just the next step, the next form, the next item… I am surprising myself with my state of calm organisation in amongst the chaos. I am able to tell myself I will get there, just by doing the next thing, as and when I can do it.
  • How tightly the physical and the mental are tied together!? My arthritis is being a bastard. Once the parcels have gone I will begin the task of booking my own flights. I shall do this and feel no guilt about booking assistance between connecting flights. I will need it and I will feel reassured and less stressed because of it. I am good at pretending to be OK, but sometimes you just need help. I feel simultaneously fragile and determined.

I have just been brought another big mug of steamy decaf Earl Grey, so I shall sign off there and come back when I’ve waved off the parcels!

 


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