Kirsty Hall: Pin Drawing at Prick Your Finger, London, Feb 2009

Alas, I have The Exhibition Blues, or more accurately The Post-Exhibition Blues.

This is a normal part of the creative process for me, although somehow it always takes me by surprise.

Here's how it goes. You finish a big piece of work or do a show and when it's over, you fall into a few days of lethargy, depression and general grumpiness with maybe a bit of "my art is really crap" thrown in. It's a documented phenomenon and I'm sure that many of my readers are already nodding their heads in recognition.

My Exhibition Blues are never a sign that a show has gone badly or that I am disappointed by it, in fact, I suspect it's the reverse and the larger and more successful the show, the harder the drop is afterwards. My art assistant, The Wonderful Zoë, says it like catching a great wave in surfing and hitting that perfect high and then suddenly the wave throws you back up on the beach and you just don't have the energy to swim out for the next one quite yet. And you look around and realise that you don't want to be on the damn beach and what's more, there's rubbish and dog shit on the sand!

It's not usually too bad for me - most times it's just a couple of days of 'blah' - but this time it's hit me like a ton of bricks. I am extremely weepy, depressed and being regularly savaged by my internal critics and demons, both artistic and personal. Apparently there is a lot of dog shit on this particular beach!

It's almost certainly because I was tired before I went to London and now I'm deep-down exhausted but I can safely say that I am NOT enjoying the process. Neither, I suspect, are my family, although as usual they are wonderfully patient and kind with me.

The temptation when faced with The Exhibition Blues is to throw myself into something new, and indeed I've been working on two projects since I got back from London - one brand new one and one fairly new one. However, in my experience it's also important to take a little time to recoup and rest. I know that I'll be OK soon; I just need to rest up, read some fun, unchallenging books, nap a lot and sit in the sunshine thinking happy thoughts about my garden. And in the meantime, I'm working away on a couple of fairly gentle projects.

As I slog through this little patch of pain, I just need to hold onto this knowledge that I am still working and that this feeling will soon pass. Ah, us artistic types - so prone to temperamental fits of the vapours!