The Cracktown Tour Diaries; Week 4 – Part 1 “Miscellaneous Tales of Fatigue”
My god, today has been busy at the gallery. Not complaining. Saturday 14th Feb; the busiest day yet, and I haven’t talked to people as much in my entire life before this week. I’m now going home exhausted each night as a given. Its great people are interested in my work, though, with several gallery visitors staying past the 60 minute mark for in-depth conversations about my work, symbolism, influences, and technique.
I think my regularly poor diet of cakes and wine is catching up with me; my energy saps at the slightest exertion, not even physical exertion at that. Every monologue of jumbled words I utter to people in the gallery makes me that much more fatigued. Don’t think I can retire as an after-dinner speaker quite yet.
I think people have taken pity on myself, and my flagging energy levels in general, one visitor in particular brought in quality sandwiches and coffee for me, in exchange for a guided tour of the work. Well-received nourishment with almost zero sugar content (and no alcohol percentage either).
Talking of fatigue, I have noticed over these past two years that, as soon as I have completed a new photoshoot/filmshoot, I feel extremely tired immediately after the session, no matter how much sleep I may have had the night before. I instinctively want to crawl into bed as soon as I’ve created or ‘captured’ a new work, my eyes drooping before my head hits the pillow. I am not at all sure why this happens.
I did another photoshoot of work for my next major project yesterday, and am now looking over the .raw file results on my laptop in the gallery (thank you to Miss PRR for your stellar and brave modelling work, and to Rikki for logistically making it happen – and good luck to you both for Mid-March).
17th February
Another great piece about the show was put in the Lynn News today by Sarah Reedman, the press continually supporting the show. A great surprise. I honestly didn’t think everything would turn out like this, as well as it has. I really expected heated comments from local visitors about some of the imagery/subject matter, or wound-up people suspecting I was an outsider criticising King’s Lynn itself, from ‘my ivory tower’. But the opposite has happened;
