Every day is slightly better than the one before , in one way or another.

That’s as much as I can ask right? 

I can now drive short distances, on my own, so this opens up all sorts of possibilities. I can drive to my studio, and friends’ studios, and I can pop in to Sainsbury’s on the way home. I can’t tell you how big my world feels right now! The effort to make it bigger still is not only reliant on my physical capabilities, but my confidence and mental capacity.

It seems my brain can only cope with a couple of hours in the studio, and then I feel called to home, where I am safe, and won’t get “stuck”. I still have this thing where the estimation of energy needed is governed by how much it will need to get back to safety. I am sure that will eventually fade. But it is noteworthy.

When I am in the studio I find myself tracing steps, following lines trod before. It’s like I’ve gone “Now… where was I?” and I am familiarising myself with the place and the work. 

Today, I return to the arranged pods and vessels as I left them on the table last time. I want to rearrange them in height order. So I do that while the kettle boils. About half way through the task I know that it won’t be as satisfying, but at the same time I know I will complete this task, take a couple of photos, then start again. I have a thought that a greyscale photo will work better, but it is tonally unsatisfactory, so I jumble them up and start again. (See below). 

This playful process is familiar to me, and also formed a great part of my Correspondence Residency in Uppsala last year. Handling my materials and rearranging them as if they are words, squeezing out any other formations and meanings. This process is like an art-brain-workout. In itself it might not be fruitful, but it oils the mental wheels.

I am confident that at some point this mucking about with old work and materials will take me somewhere. For now, I am happy just to be here.

Maybe next time I will be able to stay for three or four hours?