Saturday, 23 July 2016

I’m working tonight from 7.30pm until potentially 3am - running the bar for a 40th Birthday party, I will know everyone there - and was invited - but working absolves me from being a participant, and I can’t talk with loud noise or drink - so I’m betterover priced beer.
off. Also - I’ll earn at least enough to buy groceries and lunch for a week, instead of spending as much on

Long week, messy work, nothing but complications and stupid requests to do things I won;t get paid for. Yesterday I had to take an hour out of work to package up a huge amount of work from a couple of years go and send to another company with accompanying notes, and they couldn’t even be arsed to acknowledge receipt or say thank you. I get that all the time, I won’t get paid. I have to work on Sunday now to make up the time lost this week by people not being organised or planning work properly - or the time spent bailing people out or running around after them.

I’m going to try and clean the house and do a few jobs before I work later - it’s slightly cooler so I don’t feel so bad today, in fact, it’s actually quite nice.

I found an old clock-face in a bin. It’s up in my kitchen now.

Wednesday, 20 July 2016


The Internet went down today, so I came home at 4pm. Almost running down a man who was crossing the road - it turned out to be ‘superstar’ DJ Danny Rampling, who I know very, very vaguely (he remembered my name once). It wasn’t quite as hot as yesterday, but somehow I actually forgot to eat my breakfast - so today was a bit of a mess, and when I arrived home, it turned out I’d forgotten to turn the show cooker on - so no vegetable madras.

Did a lot of work I won’t be paid for due to a factory giving us all the wrong measurements - so multiple re-artworkings were needed. I am ‘pending’ on 4 jobs that might come off - all at the same time… so I will have to pass on some - or not come off at all, so I’ll earn nothing. I can already guess which it will be.

Theresa May is totally wrong about Trident, were is no virtue in being able to push the button, even if she’s just posturing. The whole point of MAD is that it’s not a deterrent, it’s a challenge to make sure it never happens, and do everything possible to prevent war.

I’m pleased that Owen Smith is standing for Labour leader and I wish him well. Angela Eagle did the right thing by forcing the issue - she had no choice and had to go through the process, even if it was inevitable she would fall on her sword. I have very little to say about Corbyn but I’m getting really sick of his supporters who are becoming increasingly bullish, arrogant and bullying.

I am starting to relax a bit about Brexit. A stupid concept that serves nobody but bigots and carpet baggers, crushes the economy and pushes us out into the boondocks, won on a knife edge and probably illegal, and almost certainly not something that would succeed again - I am starting to think it won’t ever actually happen. The whole thing is a bad dream.

In other news, I bought a cheese and tomato quiche that tasted funny, I thought it was off - but eventually managed to discover from studying the packet that it had ham in it. I wasn’t happy.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016


I hate the heat, and it’s very hot. Last night I had the two worst nightmares I have ever had in my life. One was work based, and involved being humiliated by someone half my age and precipitated an email I received in the morning which probably sets that up - and the other was just awful and involved me having a clumsy face transplant, possibly precipitated by seeing lots of photographs of myself over the weekend and thinking I looked old, tired and grey.

Work is messy and awkward, mostly very political and I’m not earning anything.

I’ve lost both pairs of sunglasses, somehow - and I’m not prepared to pay money for new ones.

I’m supposed to go to a party on Saturday, I actually don’t want to go - I’ve been asked to work behind the bar instead - which I will do because it gives me a get-out, and I earn some money - whilst being looked down on by my peers.

I have to see several people over the next couple of days, and quite a bit of awkward stuff to do - the building work next door is relentless and my neighbour at the back has painted their house the most disgusting shade of violet imaginable, I feel sick looking at it. They also seem to have a professional gardener in.

Someone I know who earns next to nothing has spent a lot of money on luxury items.

I’m still feeling ridiculously tired and run down and have put on weight in the middle despite eating next to nothing. I’m going to cut out bread again, that will probably sort it.

Just found out by accident someone has stolen a job from me. That’s what twitter is for. I think I need another cup of tea.

Sunday, 17 July 2016


Non stop over the last few days, dealing with other people, their shit, their needs and not having time to think about myself. I was at home by 4pm on my birthday, watched a couple of films and went to bed. Mostly pissed off by being harassed by clients and people who knew I wanted to take the day off, putting their needs before my own. On Friday I had to manage the lead up to the Art Car Boot fair in Hastings, collecting people, moving them about, making sure they were happy - and then sitting back as other people took over when the work was all done. I know a few very selfish, self absorbed people I just want out of my life but the politics are too much. They don’t even have entertainment value. I needed to chaperone someone in the evening - which involved spending part of the evening with someone I can’t bear - and later was far too tired and pissed off to enjoy the hour I spent at a drinks event I was supposed to go to (for me!) - so I went home.

The Event on Saturday was enjoyable but hard work - again, too many cooks. Tracy Emin sold 500 really shit posters, each one just a crappy print of an old piece of work - signed by her in big letters with a silver pen - each at £50, that’s 25k in 3 hours - for nothing - people were queuing up to buy 10 at a time. They are already on ebay at 300 each. I sold a few pieces and broke even on the incredibly expensive print and paper I used - there were about 70 stalls there and frankly, I thought the quality was quite poor - there was so much, it was basically all wallpaper and white noise. It was also unbearably hot.

I’ve not been feeling too great recently - I get very tired around lunch time and a bit shaky, yesterday I felt particularly disorientated and had to leave for an hour. Probably a combination of being very run down, stressed, pissed off and the combination of heat and crowds.

Afterward, a couple I’m close to had a row and split up dramatically - which rather upset me (They have since made up). Someone took a photo of me and put it on Facebook - I look terrible. Really bad. There were people there I know who are older than me and look fine, I look like the walking dead.

An odd thing. I went to a wedding last week - I’m very fond of the bride, she’s a good friend. She was married before - her X Husband is OK and we get on, he left his wife for another woman  - who I also get on with - but obviously, there are politics there. they have since separated. She’s now with someone else, and introduced me to him. He’s called Andy. He grew up a few streets away from me in Wales, we are distantly related and he followed me to both Camberwell and RCA, he now lives in Hastings - seeing him turn up was… weird. It’s a small world.

Amber Rudd turned up at the event. I had to hide, she was surrounded by sycophants and photographers. The music was provided in part by the artist Martin Creed - it was a 5/10 situation.

I had a conversation with my neighbour last week - his house needs as much work as mine. I knew he spent a lot of time in London - it turns out he’s the assistant to the artist Marcus Harvey and often works for Wolfgang Tillmans.

It’s Sunday, Pirate day in Hastings - another absurd and freakish event. 30,000 people dressed as pirates. Insane and just another excuse to drink.

I have to deal with a lot of crap next week and put some work proposals together. There is one I have to write on Monday that will be very difficult. I won’t get the job - but i want to be put on the roster of people they ask to quote, I have the difficult job of deciding how and where I pitch myself. Too cheap - a mistake.

The spell checker on Simple Text changes many of the words I type into random collections of gibberish - it’s not all my fault.

There is a work thing I need to decide on that is politically very difficult - I want to turn it down flat - I was offended to be asked to do it for a number of reasons - In have to think that through. Frankly - I could just walk away from it all now.

Thursday, 14 July 2016

Fifty. How the fuck did that happen.

I went to bed at 7pm last night. I had a very busy day yesterday - coupled with the media drama of the new Prime Minister getting wall to wall coverage on all platforms. I had a lot of errands to run, this included trying to buy a pair of trousers. I tried on about 30 pairs. Mostly I couldn’t get my feet through the holes at the bottom, they were generally too tight to wear - or certainly cycle in, and the body area was quite baggy - as if I were waiting a nappy. It was a very distressing experience. I am now an expert in changing rooms. The ones in TKMAXX have more space but the lighting made me look sick, old and bald. The ones in Debenhams had better lighting and gave my skin a healthy parlour - but were so small I couldn’t manoeuvre the clothes off and on and kept falling over - shoes being a particular problem. I think it was like being in a coffin.

I caught a cab home last night because I had a lot to carry. I hate spending the money - and I hate talking about politics with cab drivers. He was Scottish. He asked me a few leading questions, realised we were both on the same side and told me that he regularly has to drive Amber Rudd from the station to her house - he described her as the most stupid woman he had ever met who asks questions about what’s really happening in the news. This morning I read that she is going to be Home Secretary. I could weep. And as for Johnson and Fox… I despair - I really do. I can only assume that Theresa May is keeping Amber Rudd in her old job because she intends to keep doing it herself. Amber Rudd is spectacularly pointless and a testament to the theory that sucking up to people and being a creep gets you anywhere. Johnson will make us the laughing stock of the world.

Back to the Birthday

I already hate being fifty. I woke up at 5am and regretted it straight away.

This week has been really difficult for me - and the weeks leading up to it. Apart from the anniversary of my accident earlier in the week - which I really needed to get ‘through’ and ‘past’ - hitting 50 has cast a stupid shadow over everything. It doesn’t bother me that much in real terms, it’s partly a bit of a bench mark - and I don’t look too bad for my age (unless you see photographs of me - which are awful) - but it’s ‘where’ I am now. Not the place I was supposed to be.

The last few years have been really difficult. I’ve been very unlucky, and quite a few time people have taken advantage of my better nature - and like an idiot, I keep letting them do it. Whenever anything good happens - someone or something comes along to fuck it all up. A year go I had money in the bank and lots of interesting work on, mostly through sheer force of my own will, trying to get somewhere in life and adapting to the difficult world we live in. Practically overnight that changed and I’m now in a lot of debt, working much harder for far less money, mentally not at my best - I still forget things and lack the concentration I used to have, and the world is really, really shit. Politics has made enemies of us all. My uncle was buried on Monday - he was the male head of my mothers family - my oldest friend died this year of a horrible type of cancer that she didn’t deserve, and my business is really struggling. I have no idea where I’m going next. This year could see me give up entirely, I could quite easily lose my house, I probably don’t have the transferable skills to get a job in Tesco, the house is falling down and I feel my age. I’ve managed to get to this age through sheer force of will and with no help from anyone. Most of my friends are married and have the support of their partners and the comfort of their children, and most still have parents alive  and are looking forward to inheriting vast sums from small houses in London - which they regularly refer to as they eagerly await their parents death. A friend complained last week about how busy she was and how stressed she is all the time. The same day I saw her father in law outside her house painting the sash windows. He’s done everything in that house, including giving them the deposit. She spends all her time creating instagram friendly arrangements of accessories in her house. ( Actually - I know someone who asked me to comment on their photoset of images they took of the Auschwitz memorial last week - they had used a variety of instagram filters to add ‘mood’ - I baulked).

Everything is shit - or piss, as the dog can now manage up to 5 leaks inside the house everyday. And I’ve pulled a muscle in my neck and it hurts.

I am collecting some friends from London on Friday - they are staying in the ‘spare’ flat of someone I know - it’s like something out of a magazine, a huge basement flat, they live upstairs because the view is better. The downstairs flat just sits there, looking amazing. They are here for the Brick Lane Art Car Boot that is visiting Hastings on Saturday - I am taking part and will be selling prints. I need to sell half of them to break even.

I have a couple of difficult but rewarding jobs on at the moment, and I have to prepare a quote for a ‘big’ job by Tuesday that I know I won’t get but will take half a day at least to prepare. I need to do it to try and get on the ‘pitch’ roster for these people - perhaps after about 10 or 12 pitches they will give me something. I’m doing a couple of jobs for people I know don’t have any money and quite a lot is on hold until the dust from Brexit settles, if it eve does - which I doubt.

I checked on Wikipedia. 50 is a spectacularly dull number.

I bought a copy of 1966 by Jon Savage to start reading today. I already feel like Goldie Hawn in ‘Death Becomes Her’ - sitting, watching television whilst debt collectors break down her door.

Tuesday, 12 July 2016


It’s now been exactly a year since my accident and I think I can put it behind me now, I’m about as far down that road as I need to be. This is as good as I’m going to get and that’s fine. At the weekend I caught sight of myself unexpectedly in the mirror, I was feeling pretty run down anyway and I thought I looked awful. Old and tired. Just for a moment I thought I looked dead, and I had this weird, sudden Idea that I might actually be dead after all - which could explain why I seem to be going nowhere at the moment. Fortunately it passed.

I’m not expecting to earn any money this week but I’m really busy anyway. I seem to have an awful lot to do. Mostly stuff I’d rather leave alone.

A client has asked me to send them some work from a job I did a few years back, a brand I designed that was sold on and closed - they want to use the same artwork for a new brand. They did pay at the time so technically the work belongs to them - but it’s indicative of how little people care about creative work or freelancers, essentially I’m working for free and they just don’t get it. I get that a lot.

I have 20 prints in the Brick Lane (Hastings Jerwood) Art Car Boot fair on Saturday - I’m really looking forward to it - I have no idea where I got the confidence to put my work into this show - I must be mad. If I sell at least half of them I’ll cover costs.

Everyone's is falling out with everyone at the moment over politics. It’s depressing and disturbing. I’m beginning to really hate everyone. Even people I know well and like are talking rabid shite.

It’s my birthday on Thursday - I really want to get that out of the way, and I have commitments on Friday and Saturday - I want to get that all out of the way too - and hopefully wake up on Sunday morning see of all the crap that’s been holding me back for years.