Wow, it’s been a long time since I have written anything resembling
a blog post. Where to start? Where to start?
Probably from where I am right now would be a good place. So
much has happened since I last posted that a recap might be a long, dull and
tedious exercise.
So, right now I am sitting up in bed (on top of covers so as
not to get too cosy and fall asleep) attempting to write a blog post that I
have been threatening to write for a couple of months now.
Weird, huh??
I’m finding it pretty weird; weird, exciting, challenging,
delightful and expansive; all of these things.
Pomegranate, our beautiful cat, is curled up asleep at Gary ’s feet. Her restful THRUMMM fills the room. She looks so
comfortable, I want to be shrunk down and nestle in beside her. She has become
the golden star of our web-comic series. I think she knows it too; her
diva-like tendencies have intensified. Gary
has lovingly illustrated her in stories about our day to day lives and we have
taken some fanciful adventures too. Our whole world has become available for
re-invention. We are drawing a new imagining of life one panel at a time, on
the page and off it.
I’m taking it easy today as the rest of my week is kind of
full. I’m exhibiting as part of a group exhibition in the NCAD Gallery in Dublin at the moment. It
is finishing on Friday and there is a day of meetings and programming I am
taking part in. It all sounds pretty fancy and I have to say, it feels pretty
fancy too.
I made it a goal a couple of years ago to work towards
exhibiting my work in a gallery. I finally feel like I am on the road to achieving
that goal in the way I imagined it in my head. I feared for a long time that I
would never get there but taking part in this show has quietened those fears
and I feel emboldened by the process.
I think being in an exhibition, much like anything that
feels aspirational or slightly out of reach, has a dream like quality to it. I
could imagine myself walking around my art work in a well lit white space. I
could imagine feeling pride and a sense of accomplishment. What I don’t think
you can ever really imagine is all the hard work it takes to get there. I mean
I know it takes hard work; that is always factored in. But again I think that
imagined hard work is always slightly more glamorized in your mind. I could
imagine the hard work of self expression, of writing biographies and of
promotion.
I don’t think I could have imagined running around Dublin city centre
capturing photographs of a street art project I had papered town with the day
before. I don’t think I could have imagined myself crouching on the floor of
the gallery painstakingly measuring and cutting large sheets of paper for six
hours (in the wrong boots that are making me hot and uncomfortable). My effort
was so complete I actually smelled by the end of it. I don’t think we dream in
that kind of awkward detail. The details of forgetting to bring masking tape or
your USB stick not working or every bit of mounting board that you cut going
off at an angle and having to start again. The kind of details that make you
want to pull your hair out and scream and break things because of their inane
simplicity, their everyday annoyance, their avoidable stupidity.
There is a large glass window in the front of the NCAD
Gallery, so even as you are setting up your work you are on display. In the
midst of my minor and major grievances, I could also feel the power of the
moment. Here I was on the inside of the glass, I wasn't on the outside looking
in at someone doing the thing that I really wanted to be doing myself. I have
had plenty of experiences where I was gazing longingly at people fully engaged
and participating in their creative lives while I observed from the side-lines.
At those times I wasn't brave enough, happy enough, confident enough or I just
wasn't able enough to do what I desired. I didn't feel I had enough internal or
external support to put myself and my work out there. If it had been poorly
received or criticised I don’t think I would have had the resources I needed to
rally, to say “To hell with them, at least I tried!” and to carry on regardless.
After a long time of suffering this angst and slowly
building some necessary supports around myself, I finally had had enough and I
vowed that the next artistic, creative, crafty thing I attended, I would be
participating in it also. That is how I started making for craft markets and
sitting behind a table at the show rather than walking in front of them.
So here I am, another step taken down the road to my dreams.
I have not only the experience of sitting behind the table now but also of
being behind the glass. As I said, it feels pretty fancy. The harder realities
of it are important too, I guess. The annoying details mean I have taken the
idea or dream out of my head and the wild world has had its wicked way with
whatever notion I was carrying around about how it would be. I did it anyway
though, even with the crappy bits included and I finished what I started. In a
really personal way, in an “only I can really know” moment, I know how far I
have come; I know what it has taken and I feel satisfied.
