finding the space between

Have been away for a week, with Rubin and my parents, staying in an old fishing village in Devon, called Beer. We had a little apartment above a restaurant, which was opposite a wonderful old church.

As I drove up and saw the church there, I was thinking,
“Wouldn’t it be funny if it’s a church of St. Michael?”
(Michael and Mary seem to follow me.)
Of course, it was Michael.

The streets were steep and winding, but lined with old walls bursting with flowers. Very colourful.

These are all images taken from my bedroom window.

What I love about being away from home is the way it enables me to reconnect with Rubin. A relaxing week, spent enjoying each others company, and removed from the necessary naggings of ordinary school days. It makes me realize that I often forget what a great little person he is. Caught up in the chaos of daily life, I guess.

I took a miniature mobile art kit with me. Some papers and stuff. Some inks, pencils, needles & thread, gesso. And decided to leave all my professional cameras at home. But I never quite got around to doing anything. It seemed more important to prioritize family relations, and my art is something so completely solitary that I just couldn’t bear to withdraw and carve out that space for myself.

The nigglings started to rise by about Thursday, and by Friday I felt very out of touch with myself. Quite miserable and unloved. Odd, isn’t it? This, or something else, led to a full-scale emotional meltdown yesterday afternoon when I got home. I just could not explain it or put my finger upon. Perhaps it was post-holiday blues, though I don’t often get them. I’m usually so glad to be home.

I felt very sad about leaving Devon. Like a spiritual longing. Again, odd. Unsure if that means anything particular.

I noticed that my normal sense of dis-ease about being away from home/in an unfamiliar place was not present at all this week. I can barely remember the last time I travelled and did not have this feeling. It’s something I’ve been putting down to my almost-asperger’s-ness for years.

This time it was home that felt like it didn’t quite fit, on our return.

Today I’ve tried to regain my equilibrium by messing with art stuff. I have a little piece on the go that I’m now quite pleased with. I had intended to upload a photograph, but feel I should hold back and let myself decide if it’s quite finished. Taking things slowly is important for the way I work. I so often come back to something and notice that it needs a little line there, or a touch of something else here.