Mon 7 Jun
Spent the weekend in Southend, seeing my work in the ‘Precarious Straits’ show at TOMA in the shopping centre, and running a workshop. Arrived on Friday lunchtime in the rain, hunting around for foraging spots wearing socks and sandals. I could find literally no vegetation, so I changed the content of the workshop on Sat morning: rather than edibles identification, we listened to a recording of a piece of writing I did and trudged through municipal monoculture. We discussed council greenspace management, how lack of access can negatively impact mental health, and how Black and ethnic minority and working class families are affected worst. The second part was a rowdy kraut workshop incorporating some wild elements and a heap of chat about microbes. Spent a few hours with Hugh afterwards, eating vegan fried chicken and drinking ice cold beers, then dropped him at the train station and shlepped back to Emma’s for burritos and red wine. Such a great day, feeling very fortunate and proud.
This evening a chap called Dennis came round to introduce himself and tell us about a classic Yorkshire stick dance he wants to film in the playground. He offered to show us a few moves with his special 6ft covid lances, it was ridiculously fun! I’ve reached out to friends of the school to see if any other folk craft practitioners exist in the area and need somewhere to perform! I can’t make my own art at the moment, but I sure can get excited by other people’s.
Tue 8 Jun
Wanting to think a little deeper about the stinky funk I think I’m currently in. Part of the issue might be that I’m not used to things going well and feeling abundant (food, health, time, money), and so I sense the part of my brain that is naturalised with stress is so confused that it doesn’t know what to do. Instead of relaxing and embracing this new found balance, I’m worried that I’m self-sabotaging. For instance, less time running around every hour of the day means more time to think, more time to ruminate and what-iffing instead of enjoying it.
Observing myself doing this instead of embodying the feeling is a new sensation. I’ve surprised myself; allowing things to happen to me is a step towards relinquishing responsibility for every negative thought that passes through my head. Things are starting to look up, however my creativity is suffering. The desire to incessantly work in order to distract from difficult psychological learning is subsiding, tipping into avoidance or lethargy. Why can’t I just find a happy medium? At least writing around is something productive.
Unstructurd days are a blessing and a bane ```` rest is radical, sleep to keep sane
Wed 9 June
Ella F led meditation in the garden this morn, blissful. I did some yoga, made a smoothie and toasted some potato waffles, booked train tickets for Bingle’s stag do in a few weeks, ran to the post office and a local coffee roaster, then chatted to an ancient ex on the phone. It was nice to reconnect without any of the bad feelings, expectations or awkwardness. We had a good laugh and shared new developments in our lives. She is a kind person and brightened my already sunny day.
Leftovers for lunch and an elderflower soda. Got busy in the garden in the afternoon:
added lime and fresh bedding to my wormery
added a new stack with some fresh food for them including some nitrogen rich goodies like comfrey leaves and coffee grounds
cleaned the bird bath
Atay weeded my chard bed :)
thoroughly watered everything
cleared a new half-bed and planted out some courgette and pumpkins sent to me by Al and Tig respectively
mulched with eggshells and straw
trod down paths through the wild garden
pulled nettles and cleavers out of an old compost pile and laid them on the tarmac to hay
chopped up a dead tree for firewood using my Bakuma pruning saw
Had a banging dinner of chargrilled peppers, Atay’s rice & lentils, garden chickweed, poached egg and Speck pickled ginger, and a bottle of non-descript ale.
Feeling vvvv content this eve, imaginably because of the combo of ‘honest day’s work’, no phone, tasty dinner and buff weather. Let’s see if I can keep it up tomorrow when I need to do intellectual work. It’s proving hard to concentrate and get anything done. A lack of confidence (leading to persistent procrastination) can only be remedied by doing the damn thing. Challenging myself to analyse less and move more. Ego obfuscates action.
Everything is going well, considering, yet finding something to beat on myself about is classic srp behaviour. I’m not using my fermentation lab as much as I wanted to, and unfortunately giving myself grief rather than celebrating all the other things happening. For some reason my mind believes my body can be in multiple dimensions concurrently. The irrational fear of having opportunities taken away or not living up to expectations screws my perception of reality. The search for external validation will only ever lead to ruin. Naturally, creative block affects everyone and, like my moods or cumulo-nimbus, it will pass.
LISTENING TO
READING
SMELLING
EATING
DRINKING