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| Pulling into the cafe lot before work. |
For the 4 months May – August 2011, I am practicing my art daily for about 5-30mins per day. OK what does that mean? Some days it has been recording the birds outside on a crappy tape recorder. Some days, responding to a job ad by furiously scribbling on it with crayon. I make a drawing, an action, a piece of text. As I work, I am aware that we encourage few, if any, conscious non-linear reactions to our daily living. We go through the motions of being alive. Oh of course, we angst about what we do, enjoy, plan, and cogitate, set goals, change diapers, cook food but do we respond in any creative non-linear way? Do we make something of it - not necessarily by becoming a famous pianist or teaching a good lesson - but simply by taking what is there and responding to it as directly as possible?
I have been working in academia and teaching performance, studio art and visual culture for over 30 years. I am exhausted, broke, ill and frustrated as a result of being a forever adjunct or sessional. Perhaps assumptions are being made that I must have an independent income to allow me to indulge in research and publish or have lots of free time to attend meetings. But this summer I had planned to chop vegs and wash dishes.... and all armed with my PhD! The work would be so much more immediate. But now I am ill and frightened.
Those who live the pensioned or pandered lifestyles well they don't get my panic at all. I suppose why should they - some haven't worked at anything out of necessity ever. Am I jealous? No, not at all. I think it has more to do with the fact that I want to be understood. But really Pam, how can you expect someone who has never experienced real poverty to know what that really feels like... to know in your gut the terror when critical illness strikes and you have no support or family help and you won't be well enough to work and pay the rent anymore....
I am going to write weekly and update an account of this process as I build a new "work" from this DAILy-ness of survival and see where this takes me....
Those who live the pensioned or pandered lifestyles well they don't get my panic at all. I suppose why should they - some haven't worked at anything out of necessity ever. Am I jealous? No, not at all. I think it has more to do with the fact that I want to be understood. But really Pam, how can you expect someone who has never experienced real poverty to know what that really feels like... to know in your gut the terror when critical illness strikes and you have no support or family help and you won't be well enough to work and pay the rent anymore....
I am going to write weekly and update an account of this process as I build a new "work" from this DAILy-ness of survival and see where this takes me....
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