Pigeons

I’m an exhausted pigeon! It’s my own fault, really, what with working full-time, running two small businesses, being a Mum and keeping my cats alive…it’s all exhausting stuff!

Luckily, I enjoy it all, otherwise it’d be some form of hell! I wouldn’t just be an exhausted pigeon, I’d be an exhausted, asshole crow!

I have to admit, today was a ‘bad’ painting day. I always overestimate how much stuff I can get done in the limited waking hours that I have. I was sitting on the floor of my lounge room trying to get three small canvases painted, the size of them being about my palm, when it was all just going to al’shitto.

The paint was still wet and it just wasn’t working. I held one of my small canvases up to my Mum who was sitting on the couch watching a movie, and said to her “doesn’t this look like sh*t? It looks like sh*t, doesn’t it.” I then got one small canvas in each hand and blotted them together, in a rhythmic like dance saying out loud “shit on shit on shit”. My mother almost peed herself with laughter….and said it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen! I joined in as it was rather funny! Turns out it made the canvases look better, so the rhythmic “shit” dance worked!

So there you have it! The next time you purchase a painting, the artist may have said “shit on shit on shit” and abracadabra you have your next lounge room piece of art!

This is my life. I feel like it’s a running comedy show of ridiculousness that has some form of meaning, of which I’m still trying to work out and unravel. The meaning part being about as difficult as trying to find Wally…the bugger can never be found.

My organisational skills in life are terrible. At the recent art exhibition that I took three of my canvases to, I completely forgot to name them, price them and measure them. I was standing at the register, hmming about what to name them. I choose very practical, logical names on the day, like “sunset”….whereas other artists were a lot more creative and meaningful in their name giving of their artworks.

This is the part that falls down for me. The lady who runs the exhibition and art shop (let’s call her Dorothy – not her real name!) knows me well now, to the point that she’s started to name my artwork for me. Honestly, it’s a relief.

I love painting. I put so much time, effort and love into painting. But naming them? I don’t what they’re called! And pricing them? How short or long is a piece of string?! It’s all just too much and I prefer others to do it for me.

The exhibition went well. They gave me a name tag to wear for the event and popped it on my left boob area of my dress. The name tag inconspicuously moved from left boob to just under my dress collar so no one knew who I was. Eventually it made it’s way to the bin.

A couple of my friends came along to the event which was super. They were most encouraging for me to wear the name tag proudly…ha! That would identify me and someone might want to talk to me. That was not happening…

One of my friends asked me after the event “did you get the chance to network?” My reply was “no, thank goodness!” She was at first surprised by my response but then quickly realized me having to network would be a form of torture. I would rather hide behind one of the pot plants at the event, than talk to people!

I left the exhibition early. An hour and a half is enough for me. My feet hurt and the noise from the live music and crowd, plus bright lights was overstimulating. I was exhausted. I can’t imagine having to do one of those events and be semi-identifiable. I’d rather not go.

Networking is not my jam and I don’t think it ever will be. I don’t think I want it to be. I’m happy selling my artwork to those who love them, but that doesn’t need to involve me.

That connection between a piece of artwork and an observer is an intimate experience for them and doesn’t have anything to do with me. What I see in my paintings, is not what anyone else sees. It’s a unique, individual experience. I don’t need to be a part of it, but I’m very glad that people appreciate my artwork and find some form of meaning and beauty in them.

This is art on the spectrum…or at least one artist who is on the spectrum!

Published by Kath

Autistic, Mum, ADHD, Neurodivergent...probably from another planet.

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