Today it is cold and the pair o us are both feeling tired out, somewhat despondent and not wanting to do very much. The cause of it all? We both woke up at silly o clock this morning and could not get back to sleep, so we ended up just dozing and feeling jealous of the cats who seem to spend all their time asleep no matter the circumstances at hand. cats have it easy, some mug to open the door for them, another to feed and wash their bowls out and some one else, often the same idiot who does the other stuff to clean their turds out of the litter box as well. The they pee all over the floor, drop a big pile of god knows what on your bedroom floor and expect to be picked up and stroked like they have done nothing wrong and its all the human’s fault.
The pile of washing up in the kitchen never seems to go away and appears to be self- replicating, slowly very slowly, the mess is disappearing and we can see counter tops again. I want to get those empty bottles filled, the demi johns in the shed and the rubbish in the bin together with the old crockery. I like throwing old stuff out and making way for the new, I thoroughly believe physical clutter equates to mental clutter and as J might say, the latter sucks.
We have no idea what we are doing this PM. I have a tutorial about the political franchise in the late Nineteenth century later on, the whole idea, fills me with dread, I am reading on the subject at the moment and it is dry like the desert; Disraeli, Gladstone, Lord Salisbury and the rest of them. Great and up standing figures of men no doubt, its just the subject.
Sometimes I think whether my efforts as an artist are being wasted, so far in my artistic journey I have sold two paintings (one via auction, the other a commission) Went to art college for a year which was a horrible experience and rip off and found myself being encouraged to become the Treasurer of my local art group. The last I declined, citing University commitments and some other stuff. The good news is I have finally pulled my finger out, stopped trying to be perfect and just got on and worked. Real work seems to disagree with me, or I with it and after Seventy+ employers, I think it is time I worked for myself. The whole Covid business encourages this idea, I am hardly likely to scrounge a dose of it at home and I can drink tea or eat when I want as well.
Being self employed does mean I have to exercise self discipline, working even when I don’t want to. If I add school work to the mix, I should probably be quite busy. Not half as busy mind if I had to go out and work for some other bugger each day. Public transport gives me the creeps, buses are truly ghastly and incubators of all the terrible diseases. Safe to say I would rather take the car, cycle or walk to wherever it is I am supposed to be heading.
It would be nice to have a change and a move away from the laptop for a few hours each day. Do some painting in the daylight hours and migrate up here afterward, to type, edit and post. J goes to bed quite early and there will be no creaking as I trudge up the stairs at night. Speaking of which, I have to go put out the cat tray and make sure everything is locked up. It is getting to that time, where I must brush my teeth and go to bed.
Today was a day of not doing very much, no garden pond, no redecorating, no tidying no nothing a day of relaxation (almost) But I did pick up a paint brush and use it for it’s intended purpose that of applying paint to canvas. I also worked through one of my old set of ramblings and found staying on subject a bit of a chore and not because what I was working from is rambling to say the least and frequently jumping from one subject to another, smoking, alcohol, Pink Floyd, Cannabis Chernobyl and radiation.
It would be easier if I could read my hand writing and feel sorry for anybody who has to read it in my place like someone marking an examination paper, I have argued this one with the university authorities numerous times and explained this and that and the other and they do not want to know. I need an official letter stating I have a hand writing disability or similar type condition. It’s enough to make a cat laugh.
I explained this dilemma to my Tom cat ( that’s him in the photo) and all he did was purr and proceed to lick his backside, he cares… about food, a warm bed and home and not much else.J just pointed out that I repeated myself that’s cut,copy and paste for you and I forgot to check it through or if I did it wasn’t noticed.
I would really like to write more but cannot find the words to write right now, perhaps it is time for bed or something.