Because I know I'll be okay. (I've known all along maybe, but the very act of saying 'I know I'll be okay' was to acknowledge for how very long I've not been okay)
But hopefully at least, I have always tried to be kind. Even if I've fallen short of that sometimes.
There were TWO VOTES this month. Ridiculous. Soothing the ongoing agony of politics with sweetness of friends.
One of my very oldest friends, Naomi (BFFs since we were 7!) came to visit. We're old now. We're in our THIRTIES. Seven year old Emma can't even imagine that. I'd been a bit rubbish over the last few months and hadn't even told her that my long-term relationship had ended and that I was feeling in some kind of crisis state, because... well, because I was feeling in some kind of crisis state. And talking to people directly about it was hard. But it's okay, she's great, we ate spaghetti bolognese and compared the beginnings of our white hairs and face creases, but in a broadly positive way, more from a place of fascination than horror. My hair is starting to go white a little at the front and I think I like it.
Decided to try a new walk. Ended up trapped in a farmyard full of rusty machinery, two small angry horses, several trash fires and massive piles of steaming manure. Nope.
Another friend, Rachel, sent me an email out of the blue to say hi and ask how I was. I sent her a huge essay back about all of my life stuff, and she in turn responded with NINETEEN WHATSAPP VOICEMAIL MESSAGES TOTALLING FIFTY-SIX MINUTES basically telling me I'm great and being about as wise and reassuring as I could possibly imagine anyone being?! Rachel is one of those magical friends (we all have them, right?!) who I barely ever see or communicate with, but who occasionally appear exactly when you need them with exactly the words and/or practical help you need. (Case in point, last time I really communicated with her was when she randomly showed up a few days before I moved out of Brighton and was having a packing crisis. She gave me a hug and a loaf of bread and told me everything would be okay.)
After my bad new walk days previous, I had a good new walk, across the moors and down into a nature reserve I'd never visted before.
On the 7th Ava* moved out. Originally I'd hoped we could carry on living together. That we could still be friends and share some life for a while longer. But I was wrong, and I am so glad we're not in the same space any more. It had been harming both of us for so long, and I recognise this departure as the turning point in my general ability to feel okay. The day itself was hard though. Davey took me to stroke some baby lambs though, and that helped.
(*Alex is going by the name Ava in most situations now, so that's how I'll be referring to them from here on)
An awkward encounter.
And then... I clean. I have always cleaned and tidied as a soothing exercise. It was a rift between me and Ava. Our differing standards, our differing needs. I made them feel bad about the way they lived, and they made me feel bad about the way I wanted to live. It is liberating to clean and have things stay clean. Liberating to tidy and have things stay tidy. You know what's better than cleaning and tidying? NOT cleaning and tidying. The time that I spent just... keeping on top of things. Preventing detritus mounding up on the kitchen counter. Moving bags off the sofa. Clearing used crockery, knives, forks, mugs from around the house. And a million other tiny tasks, small on their own, but all of them together... so much time, so much effort, and so much resentment. The house just stays clean now when I clean it. It is a joy.
And yeah... My mood just lifted. Took advantage of that by spontaneously going to Manchester to watch Detective Pikachu (my first time at the cinema in... 3+ years?!) It was silly and fun and good.
Had a weirdly specific Sunday.
The whole 'clean house' thing is not all straightforward though. Because it's also 'empty house'. Me and Justin rattle around (though actually, just three weeks or so in, much less so, we have expanded to fill the space, like a gas)...
I was still reeling a little from the aftermath of Ava moving out, and sobbed at my therapist for a full hour around this theme, but then came home to my spotless kitchen and was like 'You know what, I'm fine.' (Maybe I don't need a therapist any more)
Went to sell zines at this gig that was raising money for mental health charities. I sold precisely zero zines, and the music was truly terrible, but I got to try the weird new Wagamama vegan egg, so... sure. Fine.
Had an extremely stressful day with too much work to juggle. Asked my neighbour Caroline to walk Charlie, and in exchange, briefly dog-sat her miserable charge, a giant lurcher named Basil, coming round from anaesthetic after some stitches in his leg, who spent the entire time forlornly howling at me. BIG MOOD, BASIL
GROWING STRONGER EVERY DAY / BUT DOING TOO MUCH
Made an utterly amazing black forest gateau that Justin, Dav and Davey are STILL talking about. I am daydreaming about it right now
Went to see Open Mike Eagle (with All City Jimmy and Video Dave) and they were all wonderful
I'M NOT PREGNANT YOU GUYS. Having a pelvis ultrasound for other reasons, but it's strange, the associations of them are so strongly of the whole 'baby' thing — got weirdly sentimental about seeing the inside of my uterus empty. Kind of wanted to ask for a picture of my ovaries to carry around in my wallet and show friends.
Making... the... correct... choices?
Feral Vector is an amazing event run by people I am lucky to call friends, and it's always a weird and wonderful adventure. This year there was wrestling?!
Charlie is arguably official Feral Vector doggo, and definitely all-round most popular boy. Took him to the boardgames night for a mingle, here he is with some of his many fans.
On Friday the new Flying Lotus album came out. Flying Lotus is undoubtedly my favourite musician, and I could write wildly effusive essays about how much/why I love his work and how his music has changed my life, my outlook on sound, my understanding of art/creativity... But anyway. He hadn't put out an album since 2015, and I was wildly excited about this new release. But equally, you only get to listen to something for the first time once, and I am often mindful of this with music I'm particularly excited about. I'd been so busy the previous two days with Feral Vector stuff and I didn't want to just squeeze it in around that, and work commitments. I wanted to make sure I took some completely self indulgant time to enjoy it, so decided on... a bath?
I never take baths. They're too hot too hot too hot too hot then SUDDENLY too cold. I get bored. I get uncomfortable. My brain thinks too much.
But it had been so long since I had one, and for my birthday back in March a friend had given me some bath oil things which I STILL hadn't got round to using, so... The perfect opportunity. I'll lie in the bath and let myself completely focus on it.
Aaaaand... I lasted three tracks.
It was TOO HOT. And I was uncomfortable. And I was too busy thinking about how much I hate baths to enjoy the music. So I got out and lay naked on my bed for a while (which was nice) then I did this painting (which was nice) while I listened to the rest of the album, and it was divine, and soothing, and everything I had hoped it would be. (The painting is loosely based on the album artwork)
I have a dilemma. I'll tell you bout it next month.
Sometimes my visual diaries carry no meaning. Here are some mono prints I made while cleaning down the adana press.
Still waiting on that summer tho
Had a nice evening tonight with lovely friends. Now I'm lying on my bed writing this with Charlie curled up on my feet. It's nice and I feel nice and I want you to know. I've been working really hard but most of the time it feels good, and I'm so excited for what's next... Soon soon sooooon
1 comment:
I love reading your blog, Emma. Thank you for putting so much energy and time into it. xx
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