Thinking about the reality of now. its dawned on me that I might be trying to hypothesise a proposed reality when applying for open callas and describing what I do. the truth is
I am constantly despairing and feeling defeated by being a carer and the demands it brings
I worry that my quality of life is being affected by my carer role- I am tired, defeated, stressed and permanently worried about not doing a good job.
I am also furious at the world, rage and hatred is my everyday state. At the professionals who don’t do what they say they will do, the doctor team who say they will scheduled a surgery and 3month later still havn’t done it and wont communicate about it. The health service that is permanently understaffed so there is no physio available. The equipment that breaks.The teachers who say they will help more with inclusion and don’t do it. The people who park in disabled spots or in the marked off space beside them. The pity glances and stupid careful cheerful voices people put on. The little bitch trolls who leave my kid out of playdates and activities. The people who walk past instead of helping. The guilt I feel when I realised I’ve forgotten to do physio again or havn’t done enough of it. Living in a world which is not built for people who cant walk like fucking they can.
All this is what I am. What I think about. What propels me. What concerns me. My work is actually about coping mechanisms to manage how I feel around what Ive described above. Its an outlet to reclaim a bit of my identity or what I think is my identity as I dont know anymore. I am trying to fit in being an artist around the edges of the above. I feel guilty if I leave to do work stuff. If I am not around to make sure everything goes perfectly or as close to as can be managed.
Maybe I need to go back to making more literal work about being a carer. Like Daily Tasks
But everything I’ve done is about being a carer- either about trying to forget about being a carer or making repetitive looped actions in a state of frustrated anxiety as metaphorically these are looped actions that go nowhere which is how I feel could sum up my effort as a carer, working and frantically trying to make a difference and getting nowhere really. It is consuming.
I think of Suspension, made in Mart gallery last year, or This is not the end, in Catalyst last year. Or RUB
All frenetic actions borne from a state of all consuming frustration and often despair. Sounds over blown, dramatic but its not inaccurate. How to reflect this honourably in my work now? Maybe I already am. Thinking about 2 open calls for performance right now, and how to write applications. How to write a descriptive intention of what the work will be. Applications need to be easy to read and well described and to the point. None of my ideas are easy to describe or to the point. I am devoid of the ability to describe my hither and thithering thoughts blowing around my head like gusts of wind. I just finihed reading how not to excude mother artists, adn am now reading Lean in by Sherly Sandberg.