Bidding has opened at Art Blitz, a fundraiser for Transition Gallery. I think the main event is tomorrow and people will be bidding frantically but silently for an impressive array of donated images (I imagine a trading floor with the sound turned down). Actually I'm very glad it is to be silent, the thought of my Liberator spaceship drawing going for £4.49 or worse, not selling, doesn't bear thinking about. But at least this way (until I revel in my own humiliation on this blog) no one will know. In another sort of panic I have started making even more work for Monika to look at when she visits my studio in a couple of weeks. I have plenty of work already but, as usual, I am beset by guilt and fear. Guilt that I have not made enough and fear that it is all rubbish. Of course adding a whole series of even worse things probably won't help. Having said that, I think todays effort (two model buildings and a can of foam filler) might be ok, though I will be hacking it about tomorrow.
My best thought so far has been putting a series of photographs of my grant application and emails in a manila folder on a table where it will probably stay, undisturbed, for the duration of the exhibition. I might have to do a presentation for camera with slides and a flip chart but the idea chills my blood. Mr Pig, as usual, has helped with the photographing.
We are settling into the new house although it can be cold at times. I have begun by obsessively sealing all gaps and cracks and can often be seen creeping around clutching tape and filler hunting them down. One thing that is much improved over our old lodgings is the bin situation. Here we have three bins each of which must be wheeled into the street on alternate weeks. There is a sort of slow but beautiful line dance in operation as black and blue and brown dosey doh through the seasons.