Month: July 2015

22.24pm

Tired. Long long day in the studio talking about art and sharing. A good day, but a long day. A lot of passers by. One woman who could not even look at my work. Three lovely friends visiting and Naoise who came to visit and draw on the floor in my space.

Up and down the back staircase to look at the Louise Bourgeois. Discussion the prints with Frances. Drawing comparisons between LB and Frida Khalo’s work. Trying to piece together the art history, we realise our knowledge is patchy.

Watched the Artsnight programme introduced by Lily Cole exploring the challenges of rearing children and creativity and the affect becoming a mother has on arts practice. It uses the famous Cyril Connolly quote to form a discussion around the topic:

– ‘There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall’.

It asks the questions:

Was Connolly wrong – can children in fact be a great spur to creativity? Or can children, with their all-consuming demands, inhibit an artistic life?

Is the pram in the hall still the enemy of good art ? Stephanie Merritt and Jude Rogers , Saturday 20th  June 2015

Naoise downstairs….”mummy I want to be with you”

Naoise talking about his bike ride along the canal with his dad:

” The ducklings were only two days old, and one was only…..”

(After this conversation Naoise wanted to watch more TV. I said no, so he crawled under the coffee table and cried. I switched off the lights and went to bed, soon afterwards he followed.)

Written at 10.44am on Sunday 5th July.

I forgot to write anything. I failed. I am cheating writing this, filling in what would otherwise be a blank. Mum came to stay. The kids were wired from a long hot week at school. We watered the allotment, the boys kicked a football in and out of the raised beds which really wound me up. They squabbled and argued over cheese rolls and pastries. Mum took us out to the pub for tea. The pub was heaving we waited a long time, played in the playground, drew on beer mats and talked. Later at home we watched Humans. Syd went for a late cycle ride to meet his friend  who was working at the pub in order to accompany him home. He arrived back in a thunder storm, I had grown anxious as the lightening struck. He was safe though and happy that  had allowed him out  I collapsed to bed after  Naoise fell asleep in my arms. I have forgotten friday.

23.47pm

Late night in the studio. Dark. The swallows are sleeping. Maybe I am the only one here in this building. So peaceful in the room of my own. Nick Cave keeping me happy.

I don’t believe in an interventionist God,

But I know darling that you do 

But if I did I would kneel down and ask him

Not to intervene when it came to you. 

If ever I was to get married I would have this as my sound track.

I guess I am married to my art. The pram I bought from the charity shop is in the corridor containing my imaginary third child.

Into my arms oh lord 

I am low on energy its been a very long day. This day is almost the next day. Hendon bridge is sleeping with the swallows, heads under wings. Tucked up neat.

At last I am ready for tomorrow and the open studios, and wow how neat and tidy, tidy and neat my studio is. I could live in it, it looks so lovely

Close the window. Summer air closed out.

Last night I danced in the thunder and lightening and rain with my neighbours. We watched fork lightening flash as fork. It was beautiful. We rejoiced in the cooling downpour. I love that the weather bought us all outside. We stared in wonder.

There was a problem when I left the house this evening, an altercation, it does make me worry. My lovely Syd is a sensitive sole and I hate it when the man and the boy man come to blows. Avoid conflict, avoid conflict. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Calm, patience, resilience, forgiveness, perseverance.

Three minutes to the witching hour. I need to drive back to bed.

 

 

I took some images of the lemon cake crumbs that had fallen from Naoise mouth onto the tarmac of the playground. We were the last to leave the school grounds, the lolly pop man had gone home. That is all I remember. I see that this project has fallen apart this past week, I am writing this today it is Sunday 5th July, its the open studios, most people walk by my space in disbelief, they don’t seem to want to look.