I’ve actually been very busy, you know…

Ha. Well. Not quite sure what to say really. On the one hand, I’ve been so busy actually living up to my resolutions that I’ve failed in others. Such as ‘write blog post weekly’. Ho hum. So now with a spare 40 minutes while I hold for the child tax credits helpline, I thought it about time I explain myself.

It’s been a busy year. Quarter one:

January – I got a studio. Yay!

February – The entire household – except for me – was ill for over a month and I couldn’t use the studio as I had to look after them all. Then I found out I was pregnant. Then everyone got ill again. This included a minor illness of Kit’s which Dicky became convinced was really serious due to the large purple mark on his torso. Endured an overly paranoid, first time parent visit to Homerton children’s A&E on a Friday night, the eve of my 34th birthday. Bumped into an old art school friend, Nick, who’d sensibly become a paramedic. Kit projectile vomited all over him and me. Had to sit there stinking for another three hours. Nobody could figure out the cause of the mark, until a wise doctor went away and returned with a baby wipe. The mark immediately went and we realised it was a blueberry stain from teatime. How embarrassing, and what a waste of NHS time.

I soon realised it was going to be impossible to keep on a studio and gave it up to work again amongst the domestic detritus in snatched half-hour segments.

March – Got made redundant after four years. Turned out to be a blessing, as is often the case in the London creative industries bubble.

Met Jude Kelly who asked me to do a WOW Bite at the upcoming Women of the World Festival at Royal Festival Hall, about women’s work songs which I’d just started researching. Had to become an expert and get over my extreme fear of public speaking in three weeks. It turned out really well and I met lots of fascinating women from Ethiopia, Tibet and India, who all had interesting facts about work songs from their countries. Here’s a link to the presentation. The film quality is not great, but the singing by Alison Frosdick, who accompanied me is beautiful.

WOW Bite – Women’s Work Songs

Resolution. Focus. Alcohol. Karaoke.

New Year, the most wretched time of year, only made bearable by two things: New Year’s Eve is over; it’s nearly my birthday. I decided I actually needed to make some resolutions this year. I used to make a resolution every year when I was an idiot (teenager). It was always the same: get a tan and grow hair really long. I’ve moved on slightly, and this year have three main categories of resolution to break.

1) Get paid. The economy is flatlining, everyone is applying for jobs, and I need one of them. Time to force myself into action, and actually do something with all these ideas… i.e go freelance.

2) Have fun. Breastfeeding is long gone, but it still feels exhilirating to get drunk. And it’s reported that Lucky Voice has cheap deals in January, so I’m planning on making the most of it. Elaine and Barbara’s I Know Him So Well, Heart’s Alone, Faith No More’s Midlife Crisis and John Farnham’s You’re the Voice are current favourites. I’m also partial to Joe Le Taxi. And The Gambler.

3) Become a better feminist. I was eight when the girls in my class were given a shit silver purse for Christmas, when the boys all got an amazing model car kit. This outraged me so much, I was unable to deign to be grateful for the state-funded generosity, and it fuelled a lifelong love of model kits (see this and this for more recent evidence) and interest in gender politics (despite the stupid teenage hair and tan resolutions). Motherhood has further stoked my gender equality fire. So my aim is to read and re-read the key feminist texts that have inspired me, or that I have thus far failed to finish reading. It’s only the beginning of the year, and so far, I’ve read two very different texts, both recent. Nina Power’s One Dimensional Woman and Caitlin Moran’s How To Be a Woman. An additional aim, is to actually remember something from each book. A memory for facts and useful data is not a strong point. I’m hoping developing an attention span/proper use of brain might help ward off the onset of dementia for another few years too.

Kit went to his first protest, Occupy outside St Paul’s Cathedral, and returned with a fat, blond dreadlock…

Mercifully he didn't come back "yeah yeah yeah-ing" in a middle class drawl, wearing a jester hat, eating fire and swinging his poi. Plenty of time for all that. Only one person told his father that he was a Rainbow Child. I'm pleased that his exposure to protest, strong opinion and questioning of the status quo has begun early. Especially as I find it hard to properly engage in any activist behaviour or dialogue at the moment. The personal is the political, but I find that even at the mundane level of domestic consumer choices, my decisions now just reflect my worsening economic situation. However, in an attempt to still enjoy London's vibrant cultural life, we are off out tonight to Dalston Roof Garden's food fayre, to pick crumbs off the astro turf dropped by people who can still withdraw money from the bank. Looking forward to some scavenging. Am taking the baby to encourage additional sympathy/outrage.

The artist’s studio, currently in my sitting room, vying for space amongst the toys, coffee table and laundry.

Ah, the artist’s studio. Since I had to give mine up when I had Kit, due to the usual boring reasons: no money, no time to go, blah de blah, I’ve adapted my working methods, such as working on a smaller scale, this blog being one such example. At the recent open studios on Ridley Road where I used to have my space, I saw some great work; geometric drawings, nice pattern and colour, as well as some fine, obsessive drawing, all firm favourites of mine. But I felt so underwhelmed by the scale of much of what I saw, that I have since developed an intense urge to work REALLY BIG. The biggest I can go at the moment is the span of the sitting room floor, which isn’t immense, but it feels liberating to get out of my sketchpad. Here’s a shot of a drawing I’m working on about military surveillance sites. You’ll note my improvised paper weights in the form of a child's xylophone and a vile (and weirdly pervy) electronic Minnie Mouse doll my mother-in-law found in the charity shop where she works. The most alarming aspect of Minnie, is that you have to swipe her hard across the face to get her to crawl. What lesson is that teaching, I ask you? Yes, I have considered getting rid of her, but Kit seems to have a bit of a soft spot for her, and I feel mean chucking her out now, especially after her rough treatment.




				

Expertly skinned but with crazy mane and tail intact, Rosie is the sort of horse that promotes awe and horror in equal measure.

Expertly skinned but with crazy mane and tail intact, Rosie is the sort of horse that promotes awe and horror in equal measure. It's surprising that objects like this get to the point of production, I always think. Why would someone design it? Then sign it off? Then put in an order for a large batch? I have definitely adapted my aesthetic sensibilities since having Kit, developing a real love of bright plastics, especially if they have a flashing light component. Although I am a bit selective with the donations we receive from Dicky's large family, there's no point enforcing a good taste policy if it bores the socks off your child. Rosie doesn't belong to us, but she lives on in our hearts through this image.

It’s true. You can’t have it all. Or, not unless you’re loaded, or have benevolent parents living next door with time on their hands.

It's true. You can't have it all. Or, not unless you're loaded, or have benevolent parents living next door with time on their hands. I have been absent, you may have noticed. Turns out my ideal return-to-work scenario - 8 hours in the office (while Dicky looks after Kit) and 7 hours working remotely from home in the evenings, ain't so ideal after all. When I make plans, I imagine myself a completely different person. I’m someone able to be ruthlessly committed to ‘the schedule’, utterly punctual to the second, and with a terrifyingly intense concentration span. I’m not someone who sits down for 15 minutes catching up on the day’s events during the handover ceremony when Dicky gets in from work. I’m not someone who steps in when I hear a humanitarian nappy disaster escalating in the next room. I’m not someone who takes 10 minutes out (oh, bloody hell! 40 minutes has past!!) to have a quick bath with the baby or join in the riotous evening game of Chase me! Chase me! down the landing. But reality tells a different story, and two evenings of efficiently working 3 hours a piece turns into an hour here and an hour there, and a part-time job becomes a daily concern. All other life takes second place, and ART, well, that doesn’t even get a look-in. Which is pretty depressing, especially since my job is all about supporting artists’ professional development. HA! But things are now on the up: we have engaged the services of a childminder...

I was faced with a pair of latex gloves, a boiling kettle, an old toothbrush and a sour expression.

God this is painful. Progress is SLOW on art at the moment. So this is the second portrait I've done for the Mildmay Mother-in-law film Abbe and I are making. It's me, sort of. Although it isn't actually a very good resemblance, and looks more like a cross between my glamorous lodger and Katy Derham off the telly/Radio 3. Anyway, who knows when I will get another drawing done this week, so it'll have to do for now. And I can tell you, my face was not smiling like this today, after Kit and I experienced his first fall into a huge pile of dog poo. Aside from the neurotic fear of Kit ingesting a plop particle and going blind, I was ENRAGED to end up spending Kit's precious naptime trying to scrub dogshit off his lovely new shoes. I had planned my day efficiently, and was intending to fit in some paid work while he slept. But instead I was faced with a pair of latex gloves, a boiling kettle, an old toothbrush, and a sour expression. Juggling those 7 hours of remote working is much harder than I expected. I'm beginning to wonder whether I should try to find an extra £35-70 a week for childcare so that I can just get what I need to done in the office. It'd be a lot easier on me. Not sure about Kit... Or my purse.

A drawing a day has dwindled to a drawing a week (or fortnight) since my return to (paid) work…

A drawing a day has dwindled to a drawing a week (or fortnight) since my return to (paid) work... Working remotely from home in the evenings and during naps has rather scuppered my drawing habit. Mustn't grumble though. At least I have paid work, for now. This is a drawing of my mother in law, Stella. She's the central focus of the film Abbe and I are SLOWLY working on. She lived in the very same streets I walk up and down every day, 70 years ago, before moving to Essex during the second world war.

I’ve had to curb my drawing a day habit this week. The demands of motherhood and work are proving too much…

I've had to curb my drawing a day habit this week. The demands of motherhood and work have meant my own projects have taken a distinct back seat. Which is hard to deal with, especially as I have some amazing projects I'm trying to work on, all collaborative; a film with Abbe Leigh Fletcher, a graphic novel with Kirstie Gregory, a series of projects with Juliet Sugg and some illustrated shoes with Morven Mulgrew. I feel like my ambitions for my own work are at constant risk of being thwarted unless I really keep my eye well and truly on the ball. THIS IS HARD. But last week I spent an enjoyable two hours doing a free and easy wall drawing with Juliet. It was such fun, splattering ink and all sorts on a wall, and being completely unprecious. Made me nostalgic for Art Foundation. This is a detail. It is currently chanelling a bit of a Watership Down inferno terror vibe. I'm hoping it'll go a bit more Brian Wildsmith, but maybe that's a bit tame...

“GET AWAY FROM ME OR I’LL KNOCK YOUR HEAD OFF! I’M WARNING YOU! I’LL KNOCK YOUR HEAD OFF!!!!!”

1.5 weeks in, remote working, drawing every day and looking after baby is proving more than tricky. When I finally got Kit to sleep at 9.45pm, I was feeling pretty morose about it all. Until I came downstairs to hear:"GET AWAY FROM ME OR I'LL KNOCK YOUR HEAD OFF! I'M WARNING YOU! I'LL KNOCK YOUR HEAD OFF!!!!!"Juliet, my pal and lodger is watching my favourite film ever, Nuts in May, and I'm reminded once again of how strong an influence both Keith and Candice-Marie had on my developing personality after I first saw it aged 14. I think I am actually a 50:50 split of them both. I went to see it again at an arthouse cinema in Bradford when I was about 15. It was the same version I'd seen on Channel 4 taped off the telly with the adverts blacked out, so intermittently, we just had to sit staring into space for a few minutes. Two years ago, my friend Amy was acting the goat, pretending to be Candice Marie in Highgate Woods, and in an unbelievable twist of serendipity Alison Steadman appeared from behind a tree. What a DREAM.