I am still here, I didn't turn into dust. I am not sure how. I am walking for miles (my go-to coping strategy) talking, seeing friends, sleeping, resting, grieving, recovering, eating, crying, crying, crying. I talk to you as I look back into the empty rooms. I hope you will visit me in my dreams. I want you back. This is pretty fucking hard. Layers upon layers of grief. I can't move your things.
My friends have been amazing and the flowers are blooming and the trees are leafing out. I talk to the squirrels, pigeons, and birds. I suddenly have so many bird feeders. My wee animal friends help me - stray cats roam in the garden. They are not you, but I hope they bring messages from you. I am surrounded by beauty in sadness, I am surrounded by big hearts and am aware of all the bodhisattvas that walk in our midst. All the caregivers, healers, and helpers. I try to practice compassion, my mind throws me endless curveballs. I am feeling it all and walking through it. Again I say, this is pretty fucking hard. I miss you so much, Theo.
In other news, I learned of another loss. My friend, patron, supporter of the arts, punk rocker, photographer and all-around good guy, Peter Goodbody passed away at the end of March and with everything else going on I only just found out.
If you bought a print or t-shirt with one of my faces on it, Peter Goodbody is the reason why. He suggested that I make them and so I followed through. I will always be grateful for his patronage, friendship, and support. He was a brilliant supporter of musicians and artists across the board.
Peter interviewed me for his music and art website, P3DRO. I was honoured to be asked but even more thrilled with how brilliant the interview was - he asked great questions and I enjoyed being able to weave my love of music and art together. The interview felt like a special gift. I will always be thankful for Peter and all his help and support over the years. Rest in Power, my friend. You will be missed.
Here is the interview again for those who missed it the first time or who would like to read it again.
This week in the studio was a challenge, however, I did stick to my schedule and in fact, I put in just a little extra time in the studio on Wednesday as well. So I have managed to go to my studio at least twice a week for the past three. I am just trying to get back into the habits of showing up, being in the space, and sharing the space with my studio mate who has been there since May. I wasn't expecting any hard or serious work but then a flood of portraits came forward. I got excited, and suddenly I was expecting things of myself, my work and my time in the studio. That is a pressure that I just don't need and especially when I am trying to build habits with compassion for myself and the process. I don't want to be a machine anymore or approach this time with harsh rules, but unfortunately, it is so easy to let that part of my brain take over.
Anyway- this is a long way of saying - there were really no "good" portraits this week - maybe one or two - but definitely not six. You can see and hear my frustration during the Tuesday Studio Video Visit this week.
One from this week that might work
A lovely patron gifted me with a collection of canvases this week, and so with feeling the frustration of the faces not materialising, I decided to get out one of the largest canvases, a linen 80x100cm and have a go at painting a good old abstract painting.
A fevered energy took over and I bashed out a muted abstract in greys, blacks, and ochres. I messaged a dear painter friend, "is this a painting?" I decided it was (for now) and it certainly captured the atmosphere of the day.
Soon after I stopped painting, I heard the Queen was gravely ill. I packed up my stuff as I strangely felt the urge to get myself home. I listened to the news during the rainy bus ride and turned on the BBC once through the door. I respectfully sat up on the sofa when they confirmed the news of her death. What a long and full life.
In my UK citizenship ceremony two years ago this month, I made an affirmation - a solemn, and sincere oath to be faithful and allegiant to her Majesty, her Heirs and Successors. Every immigrant who becomes a citizen in this country has gone through this ritual. And all of those naturally born in this country are born subjects.
Life is filled with such wild and complicated moments.
A vintage postcard I was given while on my citizenship path. Stapled to the back of the studio closet door.
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