This blog is supposed to be about kink, romance, relationships, and the traumas and joys that flow from them. However, everything has been packed so full of trauma of late, that I have decided to deviate from theme in order to relate a joyous event from today.
I have been working on an illustration for Alistair, as it is his birthday on Friday. When we started fraternising last year, he always said he wanted me to draw him something for his birthday, and a promise is a promise. The picture is of a reclining woman clad in a black latex catsuit. I finished it but a few hours ago, and had asked Courtney if he knew a good place to get it framed. It turns out that an acquaintance of his has a gallery just down the road, and so I trundled off there, picture in hand.
When I arrived, I pulled out the picture and asked what would be the best kind of way to present it. It was a really cool gallery, with some rather fine works in the window, and really professional inside. I did not introduce myself as Courtney's friend... I didn't really think to. The owner looked at my drawing and said it was the best pencil work he had seen in a long time. I was really taken aback, because I have never shown my stuff to anybody who knows anything about art before. In fact, I haven't seriously picked up a pencil in a long time. He commented on my ability to draw hands, and really loved the piece. (Incidently, I hate drawing hands, it scares the crap out of me, but I kept this to myself). He showed me a lovely frame, and it would cost me £80, but I am a poor student and could not afford this, so I asked for something cheaper. It seemed to be because he really liked my work that he offered me the framing for £50, and he told me that I must bring more of my stuff in. In fact, as he was filling out the forms, he told me that it should really have cost £120. He then said that I should bring some pieces in to place in the window, because he thinks he may be able to sell them for me.
I was so surprised, and it made me feel utterly wonderful about my abilites (which I still don't truly believe are that great). I have always wanted to be good enough to be able to put stuff in a gallery, and now I have been told that I am. It really was the boost I needed. Since realising that teaching is not for me, I have been so lost... friends have said that I should try to make it as an artist, or writer, but I have always seen this as foolishness, never believing it would be possible to earn a penny. But now, though I might never make a living, maybe I can. Maybe I have lost part of my identity in failing to want to teach, but regained an old part that I should never have left behind in the first place.