A Day at the Greenwich Market

We spend Sunday wandering around Greenwich Market. To get there we walk through the University of Greenwich which is the grounds of the Old Royal Naval College, the centre piece of the Maritime Greenwich UNESCO World Heritage Site. The University has a 150 year lease on parts of three of the four Royal Courts and is breathtaking. Walking by the music wing one can hear wafts of music floating in the air. Soon we enter the well known Greenwich Market. There are all types of wares. My favourite was the jeweller making bracelets from old silver forks, spoons, and fish knives right there in front of us. The market is relatively small compared to its reputation. We wander the streets of Greenwich to find a few more open air markets selling what looks like "grandma's old things". It is a sunny day and we wander up the Thames. It seems we are not alone. There is a huge military ship docked in the river. Can you see the helicopters sitting on the front deck? We pass another small market with candy. A close up just to get your saliva glands going. We wander through Greenwich and find a great little pub with the most amazing meals that we hunker down to with friends for several hours. Sigh, what a nice day.

Family Photo

This great photo was forwarded to me from my mom via her cousin. My grandma (from my mom's English-Canadian side) sits on the far right with her two sisters. Girls run on both sides of the family. My grandma was as opinionated and stubborn as me. We often clashed as a result, but when we had the same opinion we were a force to be reckoned with (ie: pop is bad for you). I love this picture and could stare at it forever. Above is my grandma again (left) with my uncle and my great grandmother who I met very briefly as a young girl.

A Revolutionary Road

I quit my one week old job yesterday. If I am utterly miserable than best to change the current situation. This has occured once before and I remember someone telling me not to be a quitter and to stick it out. I was stunned. So stunned I didn't quit for a year and a half. Is this how the majority of the world think, I wondered to myself? Is that why so many people stay in jobs they don't like? I realized on the ship in Liberia that I had never worked for someone full-time for 7 months before. I didn't like the oppression or the dominion wielded over me. I have always worked hard in casual, part-time, or full-time seasonal jobs. I remained my own boss and lived a simple and frugal life. I admit this can become wearing in different ways. I watched the movie Revolutionary Road and it left a bad taste in my mouth, as it was it was meant to. Like the heroine, I have pursued the dream of being an artist believing I would make it one day. What is your definition of success? This question posed in art school was meant to break down the superficial ideas and free us to make our own art. The right answer was wrapped up in increasing your own abilities and creating in realms that had not been discovered, whether by you or others. It was to broach your own safety zone and step out into a chasm ignoring societies pleas to play it safe.

"When the boy was a man he would be known as someone who took large and reckless actions, and he would often think that he had first been like this at Rebus Creek Road where he had first gone beyond what he was brave enough to do and changed himself because of it." (Peter Carey, His Illegal Self). But I have never quite been able to convince myself of this notion of success despite developing my sense of what is accomplished and challenging art. I have humanly wanted to be recognized by my peers, by the commercial world of art and by the theoretical world of art. Fat chance, is todays feeling despite Nigel learning that artist's minds are either floating in a cloud of brilliance or wallowing in a sea of despicable loathing of ones own work. My mind keeps slipping back to a friend of mine, another artist, who was struggling and from an outsiders view (the title I bestowed on myself at the time) I had the answers. I could see that she should market herself differently, should get a part time job to support her art while she was still fledgling, and start giving herself a time and money limit. Of course I placed myself in an entirely different category. I was beginning to sell, I lived simply, I had definite goals and time frames. Such are egos and my disbelief when she told me I didn't support her art. Now I wonder how different I am from her back then. Do people look at me and in their mind know what I should be doing differently, think I should give up, move on, grow up, and finally enter the real world? I admit I am surrounded more by people now whose subtlies I read and I know this is what they are thinking. They don't need to say it or show it. It is more what they don't say. So I am left wondering what next to do and in my mind these are the only realistic alternatives. 1. Jump into my art with all the gusto I have, living, breathing, eating, and sleeping art for a time more before reassessing. 2. Look into something completely different, completely reliable. 3. Pursue something else artistic that would renew my passion, but place me at the bottom rung in another field. 4. Continue with my art alongside a part time job.

Careers

I have been doing a lot of pensive thinking lately. Some thoughts have to do with things I am doing, books I am reading, movies I am seeing, but most have to do with where I am currently in life and where I see myself going. Maybe I am at a crossroads. I keep meaning to blog about all these things, but when it comes to sitting down and writing something, I am not in the mood. Maybe my thoughts are half formed still. There was a brilliant exercise I had to do in a writing/public speaking/art class I took in my undergrad art school. The homework was to write a page a day in a notebook...sort of like a journal. What we were to write were thoughts or opinions or anything as long as they were analytical. My two best ones were on why the world was so moved by Princess Diana's death (yes, this does date my schooling) and why cemeteries are so valued by the living. Perhaps I will try and repeat that exercise in this blog. It forces a further thought process in my half finished thoughts. That said, I have been looking for a part time job lately to pay for my studio and my transit. A day a week would be ideal. But it seems that most jobs here in London are over applied for and not a single company bother to get back to you if you have not been shortlisted. This leaves you wondering if the job has been filled or whether you are still waiting to hear. I had my fingers crossed for the library job. I have been thinking seriously about other careers too. Why? How could I when I have invested in this one so far? Well, this one can get discouraging not only with working long and hard with few monetary rewards, but the world of art is not always a savoury place. Part of the problem is when I do those on-line tests to discover what your best career fit is, it is always in the arts. Maybe I just need more structure. Maybe I need a bit of a change for a while. I did in fact get short-listed for a part time job last week and started this week. Of course what was advertised is entirely different, both in location, in commitment, and in hours. There has been no training, the schedule is sketchy and I am expected to be flexible, make it my life priority, commute for an hour (each way), and earn minimum wage, while being sometimes abused by the public. I dread going, but admit it has had a one positive effect. It has made me determined to do something else. I am refocusing with an extreme intensity on my art work and studio time and am seriously considering other careers, not as a replacement, but as a compliment. I need something that is a bit structured and makes a bit more money.

Southend, Essex

A walk on the beach in Southend. A blustering day. Colourful beach houses. Nigel walks ahead alone. Beach front property for sale.

An English Summer Wedding

I have now attended my first English summer wedding in Rochford, Essex. Some of the family members pose together. The children run in the large fields and find the only mud slide in the area! Yes, the wedding lover above does have a radio and earpiece and is listening to the football match. Summer drinks of pims. The flowers are all in bloom. Despite not being a gardener, I am a painter and was taken with the colours. More colours. A view of the grand house from the lawn. The wedding cake which turned out to be a fake. Elaborate tables (with chocolate at every seat). Looking down from the upstairs level. Dessert. The sun sets.