I’m caught in a vicious circle.
I have to admit, I’m incredibly lucky to be able to work from a studio in the garden. There’s no commute, apart from the short walk up the garden path, no traffic, no office politics, no real barriers to getting on with the work. So why does it so often feel as though there is always something else demanding my attention? Immediately. Right now. This minute.
I spend a fair amount of time feeling slightly aggrieved with myself, and, if I’m honest, a bit of a failure too. Such a small percentage of the ideas I dash into journals ever seem to make it out into the world.
But every so often I do manage to put my head down and make. When that happens, I disappear into the work for hours at a time. Printing, cutting, planning, folding, stitching, proofing. Entire afternoons vanish without me noticing. Which, of course, means that nothing else gets done.
And while I’m immersed in making, all the small domestic jobs and admin tasks that quietly mutter away in the background begin to pile up. Emails unanswered. Washing unfolded. Forms half-filled in. The sort of things that make me feel disorganised and slightly behind on everything.
Eventually it all builds up until it spills over, and I find myself pulled away from the studio again, dealing with everything except the thing I most want to be doing: making prints and books.
And so the circle begins again.
