Friday, June 27, 2025

I still shake

Above the old studio sink

Hello Dear Readers, Friday finds us again.

Thank you for spending some time with me in a world that is always pulling at your attention and lifeforce. Last week's post seemed to be a popular one, and I am glad it resonated. 

This hasn't been a great week, but there have still been moments of beauty and laughter, as well as tears. I took time for it all.

I have decided that I must approach things differently. It's once again time to reframe, change, embrace, and accept. Of course, it is always this time unless one is fighting against the very nature of life. I am actually pretty good at doing this - I can be pretty stubborn. I am a fixer and an optimist, a hard worker and much of the time, a black and white thinker. These qualities can serve me well to a point and these traits can also make things harder than necessary. I embrace my hardwired tendencies and breathe into what I can soften and release. 

This week, I walked more and listened to nature's lessons. 

As I think many of you have gathered, my art "career" is not the same as it once was, my feelings and motivations towards it have changed a lot since the pandemic as well as from all I have learned through my involvement with the Scottish Artists Union. I no longer work the same way as I did. Some of this is okay with me and some of it, is not. 

The arts (in all of its forms) was such a huge part of who I was as a child, how I was raised, what I valued and how I perceived my value. I credit art with "rewiring" my brain, giving me a purpose, and helping me make sense of the world and my place in it. Art built my confidence and gave me a shorthand language to help me find others that I could understand and who would understand me. Art supported me emotionally, spiritually, sometimes financially, and gave me a sense of community. 

Most of my friends are artists or in creative fields of practice and many of them have also changed the way they work. We talk about it differently now, in a wistful way. Longing for something that was lost. Back before algorithms, likes, and shares - or back to when likes and shares still equaled opportunities and income. Back before we realised how much all the open calls were costing us, before we realised the labour involved in pursuing speculative opportunities that seemed to generate income for everyone but the artists. Back when we had that hungry energy when we were younger. 

How do we peel it all back and begin again? What systems need creating to make it work? What is the goal now? How do you keep expressing and creating when you are the only audience for your work and your storage space and finances are limited? How do you remain committed to the creative practice when the world seems committed to misunderstanding it and you? 

How do you ignore the pressures of society to protect the tiny flame within?

I think you tell the truth. I think you keep showing up, even if showing up looks different now. I think you keep walking in nature, and realising the value of all things that feed the creative work. I think you get quiet and maybe a little angry. 

And you create to please yourself, to calm, soothe, explore, excavate and exorcise. I think you meditate and cry and limit the bullshit from taking root. 

Why would the path look the same as it did five, ten, or twenty five years ago? It wouldn't. We've changed, the world has changed, the internet has changed, galleries have changed, motivations have changed and this is simply the nature of things. 

Art is the constant, even in fits and starts. From youth to now, I think about it, write about it, talk about it, work around it, create it, cry and worry over it, and feel its exaltation.

I let go of what was, accept what is, and do not fear the future, but I still shake.

A shift in the weather

Friday, June 20, 2025

Time folds in on itself

Co-Star Mic Drop 
I am having frequent migraines, I am working more hours than usual, and there is still never enough time to get things done. My life's work is largely ignored and my anxiety grows. I am avoiding the news because I can't think about war.

Time folds in on itself - how did we all get so old. 

I slept until my alarm chimed bird sounds at 7am. This is a rare occurrence.

My dreams were wild but not memorable, only the feeling and flashes of colour left behind. This is my weekend now, time to recover and regroup but I already feel the weight of obligation and the plans I made for myself. 

I am tired and on shaky ground, yet I will it solid. As I type these dour words I think, what a bummer of an intro, surely this can't stand. I will delete and share the beauty and lightness that I also found this week. Because I can always find it.

If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed. 

Remember too, this place is a creative exercise. Perhaps the only creativity I will experience in the week. I like putting words together. 

The words are partly crafted from the music playing in my big headphones, Marconi Union, Brian Eno, Hammock, Nils Frahm - icy and atmospheric on a warm June morning. Music for introspection - like I need any encouragement. 

I want to write, I think you are beautiful. But who am I thinking of, I do not know. 

I think you are beautiful. 

I walked. I watched a show everyone is talking about. I listened to an audiobook. I have sat in the garden in the sun, knee deep in buttercups and daisies, punctuated by poppies and foxgloves. I am going to see live music on Sunday and Monday. I have talked to friends - human and the furry kind and I have harvested fresh spinach.

I have made good food and healthy drinks, enjoyed naps, yoga and breathing exercises. See what I am doing? I can't help it. 

If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed. 

Susumu Yokota comes on my headphones - glorious. I was trying to be reminded of this album. There are no accidents. 

and I still think you are beautiful.

Friday, June 13, 2025

Power to the people!

wednesday's alright if you like iced matcha

Hello Dear Readers (and you are dear),

Here we are on Friday the 13th, the sky is grey and the air is very warm, a bit muggy even. If I was in Arkansas, I would think we are about to have a storm. All my windows are open and I am drinking my matcha iced. This song is on repeat. So that's the scene, it's 7:06 in the morning.

I am pretty stoked to have made it through the week. It was a hard one, but there were many beautiful moments. I even took a minute to draw and have decided I like Neocolor II Aquarelle wax pastels by Caran d'Ache. I picked up 2 colours back in March for my birthday, but didn't think much of them at first, but now I understand why they have so many fans. I just did a quick sketch on a piece of cardboard, and felt instant relief. Some days (especially with a job) it's so easy to do nothing, when even 5 minutes can really make a difference. It's so important to remember this. It doesn't have to be "good" and it doesn't have to feel "resolved" it just needs to be. Action is where it is at!

mother as a girl

In other news, I took a walk that was particularly beautiful, a feast for the senses. I think the experience was heightened because I really needed it to combat the stress I was feeling. To just give up and move through the air and take it all in was so comforting.

In a world gone mad, I trust the birds, the trees, and the dappled light. I trust the water and the wind.
The birds were singing loudly, sending messages out through the trees overhead. The flowers nodded in agreement and the air felt like velvet. 

poppy says hello

The highlight of my work week was speaking with a group of artists at Embassy Gallery in Edinburgh as part of their Emerging Strategies programme. 

"A 9 month programme of artist workshops, talks and participatory sessions exploring professional practice with a selected co-hort. Covering everything from art activism, creative criticism, collective working, curation, getting projects off the ground, hands on skills and freelancer basics."

I was happy to be asked by SAU learning team colleagues, Ben and Emily, to join them for part of this workshop and to speak about common issues that freelancers face and how to protect themselves by using contracts, rates of pay, and providing them with some additional resources.

We met at the basement gallery, and as it was a beautiful day, we walked over to nearby Gayfield square to sit in the grass. I gave an hour-long talk followed by a thoughtful discussion. I really love this type of hands on, public speaking work - engaging with artists to encourage and inform, is my love language. 

It was also great to spend an extended period of time in the flesh with my amazing co-workers as we rarely have the opportunity. 

I went to sleep feeling fulfilled and I woke up happy.

As seen on the wall at Embassy gallery

In other, other news, if you are in America tomorrow and are able, please take to the streets for the No Kings protests. Watching the news of the past week has been horrific and my heart and spirit are with you. Keep fighting!

Power to the people!

Friday, June 6, 2025

This is the best costume for the day

£2 well spent looks like this

After last week's newtongrange moment, I spent the weekend doing nothing much at all. I met a pal at the local car boot sale on Sunday and found some perfect antique teaspoons (I have a thing for old silverplate - I mean a real thing - I have said in the past if I ever got a tattoo it would be of an old fork or spoon and maybe a rickety chair). Anyway, I took it pretty easy as I was still recovering from the after effects of the previous week's migraines. 

I could feel the edge of frustration creeping up as my newest routines had been slightly derailed by the headaches. It was a busy week at work, but I did manage some creative time - just a few moments of weirdness but it's good for the soul. 

It was one of those frustrating moments, where the day had been fine but dull and that edge was creeping up. All of the sudden I was in the bathroom putting on red lipstick like Robert Smith - you know, not inline with my lips - too much product and a bit deranged like an old hollywood meltdown. It's nice to do things "wrong" especially if you are always trying to get it right. I then filled in my eyebrows - the way they were before I mistakenly plucked them in my 30s for the first time. I haven't done a thing to them since 2018 but they don't grow back the same after you've fucked with them, so they are spare in parts. I back combed my short hair like I did in hair school and put on a headband. It's really good to do something slightly out of character and just for the hell of it. I thought about all the times I don't do this. I mean this was standard fare in junior high and high school for me, but then that became a costume like any other, so eventually I stopped with it all. 

"Just getting through life" can make for a pretty boring but necessary costume. So it was nice to have a bit of a play. Play is a forgotten art for adults - think about the way we dress, the face we put on - often so ordinary. I wear "this" but not "that." I couldn't possibly make a change now because this is "me" and that is not. 

Anyway, I guess I was having a very mild Cindy Sherman moment so I decided to take some snaps (the adult voice says how vain, how 2009, and what is the point of all of this). The child says, because I am here, I exist, and it's fun. So I did, and the child was happy. 

With action comes power (or at least a change in perspective or a break from inertia). 

Daily Life Costume

A bit extra for dull days

Photographic expansion 

Double exposure 

Living my best life in multiple exposures

In street finding news, a fully functional bicycle in great condition was put in my path this week.Thank you to the generous soul who clearly marked it, "free and it works!" before abandoning it in the alley. I went for a ride after I got off work yesterday and again, the child was happy. 

It's okay to play when the world is on fire.

Until next week, you know what to do...

PS. Thanks to everyone who makes this blog what it is. I am so glad to be back.