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It's a beautiful sunny day and I need to make the most of the light by getting up the studio and then out to the garden. I'll be writing a proper post later but in the meantime, have some fun stuff.

I have written about my love for sheds on this blog before and I know I am not alone in my admiration for this humble structure - check out this great song about sheds by Cardiff band, Punks Not Dad.

If only it was really this easy to make money from art! Sean The Sheep shows us how it's done.

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal absolutely nails the art world.

A pointed cartoon about the gallery system.

The Childbirth Song by the very talented Helen Austin - not particularly worksafe but it makes me howl with comedy of recognition.

If I'm getting a bit up myself, I listen to King Missile's song Sensitive Artist to bring me back down to earth - song here, lyrics here.

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Phew, the Exhibition Blues seem to be lifting - I told you they wouldn't last long. I'm still very physically exhausted and having to curtail my activities accordingly but my mood has thankfully improved.

I am currently planning my garden. This is the first year that I've experimented with sowing seeds and - fingers crossed - so far it seems to be working. I lost one tray of teeny tiny lobelias when Chiana knocked them over in her rush to attack next door's cat (he had dared to come and sit on the windowsill, the bounder!) but everything else is still miraculously alive.

Seedlings
Kirsty Hall: Seedlings, March 2009

Things are seeding and growing on the art front too.

While I was in London, I had an idea for a short daily project. I realised that I was missing The Diary Project and also wanted to challenge myself to just start something straight away instead of ruminating on it for months or years first!

So for the duration of March, I'm making a small object no larger than 10cm in any dimension every single day. These aren't necessarily high art or great sculpture but they are fun and a good way of experimenting with form and materials. And I'm enjoying doing a daily project again: I don't think I'd want to work this way all the time but it does often seem to benefit my practice. It feels a bit like a musician doing their scales.

March Object 02
Kirsty Hall: March Object No 2, March 2009

March Object 03
Kirsty Hall: March Object No 3, March 2009

It's not a requirement of the project that I make the objects with materials that are lying around the house but it seems to be the way it's going. I'm especially enjoying taking bits of rubbish and making art from them. So far I've used the wax from some BabyBel cheese, a bit of a plastic milk bottle, a torn up paper bag and the thick paper insert from a chocolate box (they're fabulous if you pull them apart because they're sort of corrugated inside).

March Object 05
Kirsty Hall: March Object No 5, March 2009

March Object 06
Kirsty Hall: March Object No 6, March 2009

Oh yes, and quite a lot of thread and yarn. I can't help it: thread is apparently still where my brain is at. In fact, I'm having to force myself not to use thread on every single one and to experiment with other materials.

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Pin Drawing
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!

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The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in
Engines stop running and the wheat is growing thin
A nuclear error, but I have no fear
Cause London is drowning - and I, I live by the river

London Calling - The Clash

Thames 03
Kirsty Hall: The Thames, Feb 2009

I'm not a natural London person - I usually find it a tiring and challenging place - but it definitely has its charms. And being near the Thames always makes me fall under London's grimy spell.

Thames 01
Kirsty Hall: The Thames, Feb 2009

I don't know what Londoners think about the river but I always experience it as a dark, brooding, magical presence in the centre of the city.

Thames 02
Kirsty Hall: The Thames, Feb 2009

On Friday night I walked along the river between The Hayward gallery and Tate Modern. The trees along the path sparkled with blue fairy lights. It was warmer than usual for February and lovers sat on benches wrapped up in each other and oblivious to the world. A man knelt on a small sandy beach making a large sand sculpture of a face while a woman drew a love heart with a stick and added her own and her lover's initials. A swan flew past with a haunting cry that echoed strangely over the water.

And everywhere the river lapped at the land like a thirsty beast.

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Having a lovely but tiring time in London. Did some pinning yesterday afternoon, which was quiet but delightful as the sun was pouring in through the pins above my head. Rachael took a photo of me that I really like, normally I don't much like images of myself but I think this one has a very romantic and timeless quality.

Off to pin some more now while waiting for some internet friends from Ravelry to turn up. I feel a little sad to be taking the pins down today; they feel as if they belong here. Although I expect that the lovely people at Prick Your Finger will be finding little memorial pins in their floorboards for years to come!

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Hey, what the hell happened to February? I know it's a short month but how is it possible that I'm going back to London to take down the Pin show this week? It only seems like five minutes since I put it up.

I've been meaning to blog about the exhibition opening at Prick Your Finger since it happened but for some reason I was finding this blog post very difficult to complete. It's only just occurred to me today that it's because I've been having a CFS crash since London. I've been exhausted, unmotivated, dizzy, getting frequent headaches and crucially, having immense trouble concentrating on words. But because it's not quite as dramatic as it used to be, it's become far easier for me to miss when I'm crashing. Ah, the joys of having a chronic condition - it's a constant education!

Anyway, the opening was pretty successful. Sadly Rachael from Prick Your Finger was ill and couldn't be there but Louise and Rosemary from the shop were wonderfully supportive and we had a lovely afternoon tea party with cake, biscuits and fine company.

Lots of people came, including some people I knew well (thank you, Dave and Daniel for your support) and several people whom I knew online but hadn't met before. I was particularly delighted to meet Felix from The Domestic Soundscape, whose work I greatly admire. I didn't know she was going to be there, so that was an exciting surprise. It was also fantastic to meet Katherine from Making A Mark and Mornington, whom I know from the wonderful LSG group on Ravelry.

Isn't this a fabulous drawing. It's by Johanna, whom I know from the Cafe Kino knitting group. I hadn't seen Johanna for a little while, so it was great to catch up and I was pleased to discover that she'd done a drawing of the event. I always love it when my work gets other people's creative juices flowing and there was a fair bit going on during the opening - as you can see from the drawing, at one point I was surrounded by crocheters.

The show also got some write-ups:
Abi from Craftycrafty.tv is a friend of Dave's. Dave is the best networker I know, his contact list is legendary and he's very generous at introducing people. I met Abi and her friend, Clare at Dave's book launch on the Thursday night and they were both kind enough to come along to the opening. Abi then wrote about the show.

Amelia's Magazine also did a fantastic write-up about the show. And my friend Camilla was kind enough to blog about it even though she couldn't come along. And Katherine mentioned the show in one of her weekly round-up posts.

If anyone else feels like passing on the word about the show, I'd be grateful because obviously I'd like as many people as possible to see it and it finishes this Saturday so it's your last chance to get along to see it.

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Ah, the dreaded tax return... thankfully, the problem I mentioned with my password was not a permanent one and I got my taxes in on time. I managed to do it in the early hours of last Friday morning; it turns out that if you wait until after midnight then the Inland Revenue website works just fine. Apparently my password wasn't a problem at all, the website had simply fallen down from exhaustion earlier that day. And really, who can blame it? I know from past experience that I am certainly not the only person who does my taxes right at the last minute.

According to the Inland Revenue's own figures, they hit peak numbers on Friday 30th January with 390,000 of us filing our taxes only a day before the deadline. It's a bad habit and I plan to be more organised about it next time around... but then I always say that and I bet those other 389,999 people do as well!

Seriously though, my current accounts are a bit of a shambles and I need to get my art assistant, The Wonderful Zoë, to sort me out. She's been self-employed for years and rolls her eyes at the organised chaos of my accounting 'system'.

I do keep all my receipts (ordered by month in small plastic folders) and all my bank statements (ordered by tax year) but I don't do two things that I should - I don't have a separate bank account for my art business (which makes doing my incomings an absolute nightmare) and I don't keep an accounts book. Both those things have always seemed like just too much of a bother when I rarely make any money at my art but I have decided that this year, it's time to tackle them for three reasons. Firstly, if I start making money in the future then it will be vital to have solid accounting practices already in place. Secondly, if I'm ever investigated by the Inland Revenue, my current practices might look suspicious when really it's just incompetence! And thirdly, it will make doing my taxes a whole lot easier and anything that stops me having a nervous breakdown at tax time is obviously A Very Good Thing: I know that my long-suffering family would certainly be grateful!

The current plan is that Zoë is going to bring one of her account books over for me to have a look at and then talk me through it and then I'm going to open a new bank account, move everything to where it should be and buy and start using an accounts book. Simple, no? My deadline for this is April, so that I can start the next tax year properly with all my new systems in place.

What sort of state are your accounts in? Do you do everything you 'should'? Finances can be a difficult and emotionally tense area for a lot of people and although I believe that artists are generally far more practical and grounded than most people give us credit for, we're certainly not immune to Head-In-The-Sand Syndrome when it comes to our accounts.

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Like much of Britain, I had a snow day yesterday.

Kirsty Hall, photograph of a bench in the snow
Kirsty Hall: Winter Bench, Feb 2009

In actual fact, I was already taking the day off because it was my partner's birthday, so the snow was just a magical addition to an already special day rather than an excuse to bunk off.

Snow Day 03
Kirsty Hall: Winter Sky, Feb 2009

Having grown up in Yorkshire and Scotland I tend to scoff at the south of England's propensity to fall into utter disarray when it snows but I am still like a child when confronted with the beauty of a sudden snowfall. Living somewhere that gets very little snow makes it even more special.

Although I wasn't working yesterday, I couldn't resist dancing gleefully around the garden taking snowy photos in the dark. Fortunately this made my partner laugh with delight at me (always try to find a partner who finds your artiness endearing rather than annoying!)

This shot is technically terrible but I feel it captures the magic, silent 'otherness' of the snow.

Snow Day 02
Kirsty Hall: Snow at Night, Feb 2009

Oh, and I will finish writing up my London reviews shortly but I have a belated birthday cake to make first. As you can see, I'm still working on that life/art balance...