JOURNALS

Wednesday came and went with a head-down, get-it-done vibe. It was one of those days completely monopolised by the artist statement that's been looming over me like a dubious cloud. Not exactly the height of excitement, but a critical chore none the less.

I kicked off the morning replying to DMs and slogging through my email inbox. Pretty standard fare, a warm-up act for the main event, really. By 10:47, I was buried in my artist statement, attempting to corral words that felt like trying to catch smoke – elusive and frustrating.

Midday hit, and there I was, still wrestling with it. The eternal fight to simplify without dumbing down, to distil without losing essence. It's surprisingly hard to avoid making yourself sound like a pretentious twit when you're essentially writing how great you think your work is – in the third person, no less.

Later in the afternoon, I finally began wrapping it up. It's odd how finishing such a task doesn't fill you with joy but rather a mild relief mixed with a tinge of dread for what comes next - adding it to the website. That joyous job can wait until tomorrow.

Looking back at the process, it's been enlightening, to say the least. Trying to cram your artistic soul into a bite-sized, digestible format is no small feat. Every word must earn its keep, every sentence a soldier marching to the beat of clarity and conciseness. Yet, as I chipped away at it, I realised this narrowing down was a reflection process. What am I about? What's the essence of what I do? It's a good exercise, but I would not call it ‘fun’.

Amid all this, I realised how much I rely on visuals to balance out the wordy parts of my brain. The absence of creating something tangible made focusing a Herculean task. Mental note: mix it up more. My brain thanks me in advance.

This artist statement task also hammered home how vital it is to have a clear, articulated direction. It's not just for potential viewers or collectors; it's also for me. It's a beacon in the foggy night of creative endeavours, a reminder of what I'm about when I inevitably start to question everything at 2 am.

So, while it might have felt like a day lost to admin, it's actually been an investment. A frustrating, eye-straining, contemplation-inducing investment. And as I sit here, slightly colder than I prefer because I optimistically misjudged the weather (it's spring, for goodness’ sake, get it together, weather), I can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Not the wild, triumphant kind. More the quiet nod of approval to oneself, a silent "good job, mate". Now, if only I could apply the same effort to dressing appropriately for the temperature.