It's been nearly a month since the private view for A Journey exhibition, and my nails have been bitten so much they're sore.
I'm not always sleeping properly.
I've managed to cover the costs of the trip to Oslo, because some money we were owed since Christmas has been repaid, but I had planned to do some sketching, or maybe use the trip to inspire new work, but I'm glad I haven't been stupid enough to make work without any income to justify the creativity.
But I'm still worrying about my ever-expanding overdraft. This * is a trigger warning.
All of my fair weather friends have suddenly resurfaced, suddenly pretending to be all pally with me, then asking me to help them out in some way.
Some artists seem to think that they can expect me to help them out for some charitable event that will not in any way benefit me, that I'm in any position to donate my time, expertise and kindness for their worthy cause. They will really appreciate it. See *.
No one is donating their time, expertise or kindness to me. Ever. These are people that will ignore me, either deliberately or not, when I'm in desperate need of income, or other support, but if they want something, suddenly I'm such an amazing friend of theirs - I think it's known as "cupboard love" in cats.
Well let me return the favour of having been neglected, financially abused, and forgotten by all of you in the art world, and those outside of it that wish to exploit us. You know what they say about karma.
I've felt unable to do much for the Peace Painting Project this week, mainly wondering about funding, *, so I've been in the studio doing illustration for my graphic novel, and doing some LAN networking and organisation, however, I received a reply to an email from a nice lady from the Norwegian Embassy, asking for a phonecall next week to discuss funding etc.
I'm hoping this will be more positive.
I've otherwise, as part of my work as a Bikeability Instructor, been paid to undertake first aid training.
So I'm now able to potentially save your life if you get into peril.
I returned home from training, absolutely shattered, to find news of a politician shot dead by a britain first extremist, and of some utterly bizarre homophobic "protest" in Lincoln city centre.