It's Tuesday and it's cloudy.
You know when you're tidying up your sock drawer, chucking out ones you haven't worn for years, as well as the ones with holes in, putting the winter ones in a box.
Then you come across a fish net stocking and sling it in the bin.
Then you take it out and put it over your head.
Which gives you an idea ...
So you take it off and start applying thick black make-up over your face.
Because you're quite angry about all the advertising aimed at women having to look young, pretty, cute and sexy all the time.
Because you're not young. Nor are you sexy-looking (you never wanted to be).
The pressure to look beautiful and attractive started when you were a baby, with pink bootees, and continued through childhood and beyond.
Because if you don't look beautiful, no one loves you, right?
So you stick the stocking back over your head and face, and take photos of yourself, and start searching for other images to cut, paste and generally tweak. You use your phone to take a photograph of a bag your sister gave you. It has a flower design on it. You bluetooth it onto the computer
So you spend over ten hours on this image, making several versions.
Which is a good thing to do when you're depressed.
Not for the first time, I’ve been showing a lack of commitment, blowing hot and cold. This time it’s art and disability politics where I am conspicuous by lack of appearance.
Reading other peoples news, reviews and points of view, I think, I wasn’t there (again).
Why does this keep happening (if it does)?
Am I any different (worse or better) from anyone else?
Basically, I’m wondering if there is something wrong; with me. Or maybe it is that my life is too damn chaotic for any kind of long term relationship, except where blood, life and death are the main ingredients.
So if there are things going on without me, where am I and what am I doing?
I am here. I am trying to be me.
Surely this is enough for any artist.
See the complete Cornwall Farm Sketchbook in my Flickr photostream.