Applying for Jobs and the feelings that come

It's like going on a blind date. you are showing what is most appealing of yourself and answering the list of requirements. age range, hair colour, must know Spanish, believe in Jesus, be able to kiss your elbow. The list is very long. You happen to find some lists that you fit and you start to respond, you write it all down, it seems long, you get tired of thinking of new description words that convey how you did it all by yourself and have sincerity not boastfulness and then you feel resentment that they want to be so prescriptive. Do I really have to drive or is a clean driving licence euphemism for wanting a suggestion of compliance of rules to the point of never having had a speeding infringement? I start to suspect their motives, I feel interrogated, challenged, you are not good enough and you will never meet my long exacting list. Then they want references and honestly by now I just want to give them my previous owners telephone numbers and say go on ring them, they'll tell you, why ask me? They won't be coy and they'll recall more because its not oppressive and tiring and almost offensive to them.

I'll wear a shorter skirt, make my intentions clear, I will prostrate myself, lie down at your mercy, consider me for this job? You won't regret it.

There is some, oh god why should I do this again. Every application wants your education and employment history in a different format, each list item is worded differently and each person reading it wants to see different things. I know I have all you need and yet getting you to see that, bother reading it, is all chance and after how many I've started and all the ones I've finished, and nothing to show for it, each word you write I wonder why I bother.

Having left a job and a workplace I was at for 15 years I feel that I am rusty, I am conditioned to the way we recruited there. Each word fine tooth come, considered and thorough. Don't suppose it yielded better results, but it felt fair.

So an interview at last. I feel some hope but this weight of effort and dissapointment must be thrown away first and how I wonder?

London Baby Yeah

So as usual said lovely friend and I met up at Paddington Station for a day of following our noses and talking lots. She thinks I put real care and attention into making a day that suits her but it seems we fortunately enjoy the same things, I just drag her out of her comfort zone just enough. We went into a few intimate galleries in Camden and Fitzrovia, saw lots of works in ceramic. Slip molded tubes stuck to a canvas that as my non art gallery going friend noted, captured movement. We also saw canvases with sculptures attached boxed in as if one of Rene Magritte's Empty Mask paintings had taken three dimensional form. We saw a painting by a trained draughtsman of london and Thames in the snow, slightly sentimental depiction of the late 50's with some Lowri influences if you ask me, sells really well.

Then when I was thinking lets do no more galleries across the street I spotted in the corner of a window a small scale David Begbie piece, I was sure. I'd seen a show of his in Shad Thames about 15 years ago and had the catalogue for years. We crossed and entered and sure enough it was, we looked at the new work and the lady in the gallery said she preferred the early stuff. We agreed that his amazing accuracy in capturing the human form, muscles, flesh and so forth and them mixing genders in one form was so intriguing. I always found them compelling and here they were lit so well that you got the shadows to mirror the objects. In the basement gallery his newest reproduceable work in 2D cast the same shadows as the 3D, one of Amy Winehouse was part of a recent charity show. Impressive but not as compelling. We talked about all the work and she introduced herself as David Begbie's wife, this was so exciting, normally I'm not phased by the cult of the artist bull' but he'd become part of my mental landscape so ot was so nice to be connected, plus she kept asking me my opinion and shucks who doesn't like that?

David Begbie 2011

It's nearly Chinese New Year so we had lunch in Soho, the Royal Dragon, can not say how delicious it was, so fresh, its not the best looking place from the outside, but trust me, its good.

We walked lots and tubed little so by the time we reached festival hall I was grateful for a sit down and cake. Outsider Tart produced my second ever real life conversation with a New Yorker and a very chocaletely satisfyingly textured Hepburn, after visiting Tiffany's earlier all the possible get ready for NYC Art scene and holiday in May puns were complete.

Jen

New Year New Ideas?

For the first time since leaving school I had all the days off between Christmas and New Year and I was not well, in fact only this last weekend have we touched the Christmas alcohol in our home, we spent our family time together playing Skyrim and drinking soup.

Since then I've been working as a receptionist at a Charity which has been badly paid, hectic and lovely. I've felt vital and capable and useful and quite proud of my abilities to learn quickly, get along with everyone and recall people's names for at least as long as it takes to put them through or call the staff member to meet them in reception. Thenk goodness for my talent in deciphering bad handwriting and upside down for being able to use the sign in book as a guide before saying goodbye! Talented, yes.

Also my new stationery friend the Dymo label writer, can I get a woo for "Integral Guillotine" I mean the joy of pressing a chunky silver button with a scissors icon to hear a satisfy Crrrunch and a perfectly trimmed label drops effortlessly on to the desk, hmmm. I made one typo Friendi when attempting Friends, was I going for Welsh or Italian? Anyhoo I now have my own label, Friendi, it may just label my mobile.

So my To Do list in the Art World has been quietly growing. I realise that its all of my own making and I know I need to stop adding to it as it as just tiring to think of.

I shall write for a local website about Art, just when I decide precisely what

I shall review and promote another artist's great idea, just when I can find the tone for its non-core audience, hard.

I am writing a proposal for an Auction for an artist;s approval

I have begun my monthly group for viewing and discussing visual art. I will be designing posters and marketing for this venture but so far every second Saturday at 2pm I have a venue booked and some people who will come again! Plus a plan for the next three months.

I will apply for at least one of those three jobs I found.

I'm off to London this saturday to see my good friend and this will be after squeezing in getting my roots done on Friday, hopefully the hair confidence and time on a train will help magic all this along.

I think learning so many temp and volunteer jobs and meeting so many people and reading so many books has just depleted me, even aside from the studying applying and getting rejected.

I have devised a beach in which I can not sit, but a pebbly surface that bruises gently and slips me toward the sea where I am buffeted by the steady and relentless waves. I need a cushion, a windbreak, a towel, a boat - sand even and a bucket and spade and one day an ice cream damn it and a bit of sun.