A small section of sky

Yesterday I went to Rosslynd Piggott's exhibition at Sutton, Last light / in vapour. I walked around the installation and quietly took in details of cut-out fabrics and paintings that softly transition in tone, intervened by small square shifts of shade. I left the gallery and started walking up Brunswick street with my friend, choosing to interrupt our shared silence by asking, "Did you like it? Thoughts?" She replied, "I liked it. No thoughts....Yourself?" I liked it too and I didn't feel like there was anything I had to say. My friend wisely replied "That's what makes it good..."

Seeing a show like this reminds me that words aren't necessary in the experience of visual art. I liked the text that Rosslynd had written to accompany the exhibition; text can enhance but it shouldn't have to explain. Within myself I felt re-affirmed that I need to keep working in ways and worlds that most speak to me; I need to trust my interests and instincts. Lying on my bed for just a little too much this week, I've realised that doubt is one of my worst enemies, "Hello Doubt, my old friend, I've come to lie with you again..."

It feels nice to be riding my bike again though. I'm looking forward to hiking and camping over the Christmas/New Year period. Feeling a connection with nature is really important to my mental health and thus how I work and operate in life. I've been enjoying working in the garden more over the last few months and was excited yesterday to see some of the love-in-the-mist seeds I sprinkled over a back section of the garden bed begin to spring up. I planted a few seedlings around yesterday evening including amaranthus, zinnias and dahlias (at least I think they are dahlias - they are possibly gomphrenas - the labels on my seed trays all washed off and I couldn't be certain which seeds had sprung up and which hadn't).

Days pass very quickly.