The perspective seems a bit off from here

My studio needs tidying up

Right now I feel just a little bit sick. Worry and stress are taking their toll. Writing last week's blog seems only to have happened hours ago. It is hard to believe that it was actually seven full days. The list that I wrote then does not seem to have had very much struck from it:

1. finish the last painting
2. pick up five new cradles
3. varnish the last three paintings
4. put hanging on the last five large paintings
5. photograph all of the paintings (some of them for the third time!)
6. create titles for the last three paintings
7. write a statement
8. sign and title all of the paintings
9. make a list of people to invite to the opening
10. create and send out invites
11. add a new series page to my website
12. add a résumé page to my website
13. add the new series to my Facebook page
14. put out a press release
15. work out prices for my paintings
16. send statement and painting list to Union Gallery
17. make opening night Facebook event and send invites
18. deliver paintings to Union Gallery
19. make a book of the series
20. update accounts to cover expenses incurred in making the series
21. tidy up the studio
22. update website

I know I should be really pleased about what I have achieved so far (hey, look, I think I finished the last painting!), yet it is hard to feel much beyond the knot in my stomach. I have created some good work, about that I am certain. However there is still so much to do. Relaxing and feeling good about all of this isn't quite possible at the moment.

With less than three weeks to go until the opening, it is hard to find perspective. Other than  worrying about what I still have to do, I am also more than a little nervous about how the work will be received and equally so about whether it will sell. Money is always a factor and after doing some quick sums, I realise that even if the show completely sells out, I will still not make my basic living expenses for three months that I was working on the show. It is hardly a comforting thought and has to be tempered with the knowledge that I am not doing this for the money, I am doing this because I have to.

I have to make art. It is simply, as far as I am concerned, my reason for being here. The periods of stress and worry and doubt are all part of being an artist and I have more or less come to accept it. Knowing this, and that it will not last forever, that it will be balanced by better times, makes it easier to handle but it does not make it go away. So I will tell myself that this is the life I have chosen and want and then I will take a deep breath and get back to that list.

The secret is Shepp

With the majority of the painting work for my next exhibition completed, I should be relaxed, happy and feeling satisfied. Sadly, nothing ever is quite that simple. This morning, in fact, I woke early from a series of anxiety dreams. Suddenly, it seemed, nothing was quite right. My paintings were all too similar, the names I gave them yesterday were clichéd, or just too damned gnomic. No one would want to buy them. I wouldn't be able to paint the last few pieces as I had intended.

The paranoia and the anxiety rolled on and not much work got done. It took the intervention of Megan and her years of experience with these things, to turn me from that path. She also pointed out that if I didn't feel that way sometimes, then I would be an "asshole" and I think she has a point.

Maybe I'm a stuck record when I mention this, but being an artist is hard. It may well seem from the outside that it is easy, just turning up and putting paint on canvas, yet the reality is far from this. Those sharp jags of self doubt are just part of that.

A little while after being turned from the dark side, I returned to my studio and managed to paint. Making even one good mark was a victory and I managed to make plenty.

As ever, music plays a key role in my motivation, as well as helping to tune out external influences. This allows me to dive inside for material, or for energy, or whatever it is that I need to paint. Today I chose a piece of music that has played that role probably more than any other.

At twenty minutes long, Yasmina, A Black Woman by Archie Shepp is a long and winding piece of avant garde jazz, recorded on his visit to France in 1969 and it is perfect for painting to. The long passages, the ebb and flow, the moments of intensity and especially the rhythms, nothing else quite works as well. It takes me to the place I need to go almost every time.

Right now I have a painting on my board that is rough, harsh marks and odd spaces. It is a good way from being complete but it is a start. In a little while, Archie Shepp will return to my ears and I will move and I will paint.