I’d almost forgotten that exhibitions were a thing, so when the email came my first reaction was bewilderment. It seemed very unlikely, when so many other small shows had fallen apart or moved online.
Next, relief, for the organisers of this show re mainly retired ladies, some well into their later years, and I had been worried about them. I should have known better, for in previous years their fiercely local exhibitions have been the best organised and managed of any I have taken part in, and it seems it would take more than a mere pandemic to change that.
They put on an exhibition every other year as a fund raiser for their ancient and polished jewel of a village church, and it’s always friendly and well-run. Now it seems, against all odds, that they are willing to give it a go again. It was an easy invitation to accept, but given the grudging and remedial state of what I’ve been making in the last few years, finding something to show hasn’t been quite so simple. Eventually I settled on a random clutch of pieces; an older work on canvas, a linocut and collograph from last year, and a mixed-media piece that sits unfinished on the mantel and lowers at me (time to settle with it, one way or the other). A box of cards for the gift shop.
Meanwhile, Frankenstein’s monsters of indecision and dead ends lurk in the shed among the ladders and bicycles, waiting for me to finally come up with some sort of plan or at least some conviction.