Unless you call cleaning out the paper work and boxes that are over flowing in my studio constructive, I have spent all morning sorting them into
- university /every other course I ever did
- and really important paper work that I should do something about.
So all in all I've been quite emotional its easy to pretend that life is all great but when you look through boxes like these it reminds you of all the heartache and stress we put ourselves through because I emigrated to Aus and came back to the UK my bank accounts are all over the place I have 20 different addresses, pensions insurances and all sorts of mucked up life choices in those boxes.
I bought a filing cabinet the other week off a facebook friend its still empty I don't know what to put in there yet!
Also in those boxes are school reports I remember my sixth form years being dodgy but the reports are awful reading I was going through a terrible teenage rebel phase and how I got any A/levels I don't know! But what it does make me realise is that if my child wants to be an artist and study art or whatever they want I will not then force them to do Sociology and English at A/level!
There is a whole box of exhibition leaflets and media that I have been part of on the one hand its great to see all the work I've done but on the other its breath taking how bloody hard it is to sell a damn painting!
In my university box its all full of amazing certifcates and my 1st class honors degree etc... this box shows me how easy it would be to get a full time job and earn regular money in the real world wear a suit and join the commute!
As I was contemplating the latter idea there was a knock at the door and a young bloke was stood there, he introduced himself as an ex offender and told me not to be alarmed I said I wasn't alarmed and to carry on, he preceded to tell me he was trying to improve his life and this was the first step and he had a bag full of stuff he wanted to sell me... he said he would get to keep half the profit. I gave him some money but didn't take anything from him, now I wasn't bothered if he was genuine or not the thing is he was so pityful and I was so full of emotion I didn't care.
We all have boxes full of memories and our life is full of highs and lows and measures of success or failure exam results bank statements and the like. But a true measures of success are the little trinkets,cards from friends and photos and those I'm glad to say I have a plenty.
I have had to knock on a few doors in my time some opened, some slammed shut some I shoe horned my way into! I hope that fella who knocked at my door will be lucky enough to have somewhere to keep boxes like mine and whether he was genuine or not I really don't care.
The most upsetting find today was a diary from 1971 by my late gran with all birthdays penciled in along with later notes of death days!
If the fella knocking at my door didnt convince me then this little book did! I wont be joining the daily commute in a suit but I will try harder than ever to do whatever it takes to be the best painter I can be and make my mark on the world and carry on filling my boxes full of stuff. It takes guts to follow your heart or take a different path and it took guts for that fella to knock at my door it takes guts to be an artist!
So all in all constructive in a different way, seems we all must pause a while and look back before we can step forward.