I’m presently discombobulated, scattered, irritable and reactive in a particularly foul mouthed way.
There are wonderful things going on in my life and so much to look forward to, but my foundations are shaky so I feel as if I am scrambling to get a foothold. This shows in my art and the steady stream of profanities I emit when my work doesn’t behave as it should, something which happens frequently, but usually I am comfortable to go with it and follow the progressions.
Post event or exhibition I always have a fall flat, smash bang come down, and after the high of the performance in Hackney an emotional nose dive is to be expected. However a few life circumstances have thrown me a bit so I’ll write them out and move onto something more creative than dissemination and analysis.
I have building work going on in my house so I’m creating creatures in a small corner of my living room, perched atop a pile of cardboard boxes.
There is also building work in progress next door, which I can mostly zone out from noticing, although the builders decided to save money by burning debris rather than having them taken away (these debris included carpet, cavity insulation and coal) and not properly putting out the fire. This meant I spent a very long night fire fighting to prevent my inaccessible to fire engines, isolated street populated with wooden homes with calour gas cylinders outside, being razed.
The main thing however, that has caused this present dis-ease, was a call from my long term nurse at the hepatology dept of the hospital, offering me the new treatment for hepatitis c.
Safosbuvir has higher success rates than previous treatments, especially for non responders such as myself, although it still will use the interferon ribrofen base that I was on before; a devestating mix that wiped me for the six months of the treatment course and for the following two years with its side effects.
One thing I did learn from this course of medication and the life I adapted afterwards was to experience life in totality, appreciating every moment, making no allowances for fear except as a survival mechanism or as an indicator of an area to focus on and explore.
The point is, am I willing to sacrifice a small portion of my life, a life that this year holds many rewards for things that I have worked so hard and happily towards for the last five years; or sacrifice a few months and take some risks of a repitition of the terrible physical and mental side effects I had during my first treatment, in the hope of clearing an illness that has decimated friends and acquaintances but presently doesnt inversely affect me.
Thus my foundations are a tad shaky at the moment, but I’ve articulated the cause, and now it’s time to create some art in a ramshackle corner of my chaotic living room.