I feel odd; stressed with many half projects. Two days ago, shortly after my last blog post, I read the sad news on Facebook that a guest from ArtsLab, Dorli Nauta, had died. She was one of a small number of guests I'd remained in touch with to some degree. She'd even attended some of our Fall in Green shows. This made me look up her interview, and made me realise how important those old radio programmes were and are.
I noticed that some of the programmes were now, again, missing from MixCloud. As a result I vowed to check them all and correct any missing data. I also decided to create a second blog, an ArtsLab Archive. I detailed the programmes here on this blog as I made them, but I thought it would be neater if a second blog detailed this instead, in the same manner as the ArtSwarm blog. So, on Sunday night, I started the process of noting the programme details, and yesterday created a second blog (artslabarchive.blogspot.com) and transferred the programme details for the 100+ shows there. I'll continue this process today, and eventually upload the missing shows to MixCloud. I have recordings of all shows from Series 1, Ep. 12 in 128kpbs MP3, and shows 1 to 11 in 64kbps M4A. Show zero is lost forever. That was my 'training' show, so not really a 'proper' episode, but still a loss, to me if nobody else.
For most of yesterday, Deb and I went out, to Sandbach for a wander and break. It was a nice break, but didn't relax me much. I feel I have too much going on, tied in knots. The mural, the Steam issues, the intended re-recordings of 4 or more albums. Little painting done. The awkward and bulky lights still unfinished. I hate any state of incompleteness. I want to charge at everything to get it out of the way, to finish everything neatly, but I know that this will take time.
This morning I was reminded that I have no natural skills. I was/am always slightly annoyed when people call me 'talented': I'm not. I have no natural maths ability and was not taught any, but I've learned maths by hard crawl, inch-by-inch, hand by hand, until I knew enough to program with. I have no talent for programming, but too, learned it by hard and slow crawl, hand by hand over the sharp, black terrain of ability. I have no natural drawing skill, but have slowly learned that. No natural painting knowledge or ability. I have no natural musical skills, apart from a good memory for a tune, yet again, have learned (and am learning) to play the piano, by slow crawl along the black desert of broken obsidian. I have no natural singing ability, but have learned to sing by the same slow and difficult crawl. And so it is with everything. No talent. No help. No encouragement, only discouragement. Every tiny gain is a battle demanding immense strength. Every tiny win consolidated and carefully registered to preserve it.
What is life but this? Slow learning which is consolidated. Learning new things, and storing that knowledge. Maintaining a good record. Time has massive power. I remember the Buddhist wisdom from my twenties: we can't fill the bucket in one day, we only need to add one drop. We also need to check it for leaks. As I get older, the time spent fixing leaks becomes greater than the time spent adding drops, but doing both is important.
So, today, I'll continue to work on the ArtsLab Archive, and then try to hammer away at the next rock-face: the music videos for We Robot, then the mural (which is still in limbo), then Cycles, A Walk In The Countryside, The Dusty Mirror, Nightfood, Secret Electric Sorcery, the lights, the Descartes painting...
Our day ended by watching the end of the brilliant Midnight Cowboy, which I'd seen years ago. All lives are Rizzo's; hoping for some magical event, like a lottery win, or waiting for some fantasy Florida. Life isn't leaps, it's slowly building a mountain and shaping the sides to make it beautiful. My mountain today feels like tarmac, or black glistening rocks of a glassy mineral. I must continue to shape it, and perhaps add more colour.
