Here I am again, 20 days into January, the new year. The new beginning. These are the right words for it, I think, though they are not entirely comforting. I am starting out on a path with lots of rear view mirrors and very poor visibility ahead. There is only one trail to follow but no map of it. As Spanish poet Antonio Machado wrote: 'Wanderer, there is no road, you open the road by walking.' So I'm walking.
I wrote in my previous entry that I want to dedicate my time and efforts to my art, and that 2014 will be a happy year. What I left out is that this brave, hopeful resolution is also my only realistic road ahead. Finding a regular job in Spain is next to impossible nowadays and thousands of people battle through 8- and even 12-hour workdays for little more than 400 euros a month. I don't want to go there.
So I am spending lots of time trying to promote ATTIC PAPERS, my online shop. I am learning as I go. Learning about respectful marketing, interesting sites and resources, free or affordable publicity, etc. The balsa box above was sold this morning, it's already packaged and tomorrow I am taking it to the post office. A happy spot on the road.
Another happy spot is a few days ahead, on Sunday 2 February. Some other members of our group 'Roots' and I will be meeting a gallerist, who will visit this area and take a tour of our studios and workplaces, dispersed as they are in different villages of the territory. I am a bit nervous and a lot more content. I've been sorting through older works and also making some new ones for the occasion. A few collages and some larger watercolours -larger than my usual size. They are too large to scan and the dark, rainy weather does not allow for natural-light photography. Since I hate using the flash, I'll take pictures when the weather permits it.
This is the only rather decent shot I was able to take on Saturday, when we had a few hours of grinning sun. Collage and ink on paper. Apparently, I am still 'under the influence' of my paper homes though something is shifting. Slowly, timidly, barely aware of where it's going. A bit like me. Fittingly, it's untitled.
Going through this entry again I realised that it's hardly clear why my days are like a piano out of tune. Well, there is definitely some kind of music in the air, distant and distorted but there. It sounds a bit like a soundtrack from one of Fellini's films though played on a piano that needs to be tuned. It's sweet and jesting but I can't make out the score. 2014 is a year for tuning-up.