Regressive steps.

A neighbour asked if I would be interested in joining her for a pre-Christmas sale of artworks. As a potter, she had accumulated a large amount of work and wanted to sell it to make space. Would I be happy to join her at her home and sell some prints? Here’s the thing: I immediately thought, 'What a good idea.' I could use the proceeds from selling some older prints to make room for new ones. We arranged to meet at her ‘upstairs’ barn.

As soon as I arrived, alarm bells started to ring. The stairs were steep, and in November, they could pose a considerable risk. The actual ‘room’ was, in fact, an annexe bedroom—a very obvious bedroom. The pile carpet and the clutter of ‘things’ were hard to ignore, as indeed was the bed.

We had a lengthy conversation. When she asked for my thoughts, I could see her face. I didn't want to seem rude, so I showed some enthusiasm, but deep down, I knew it wouldn't work. The next morning, I rang her and offered my apologies. I wouldn’t pursue the idea any further.

It made me realise just how far I have come this past year. It wasn’t just the obvious risks, but it felt as though I was dismissing everything I had worked towards, which would be a significant step back. Now I understand we are meant to show our work wherever possible, ‘get it out there’, but in the back lanes and upstairs bedroom, I think it’s perhaps not the best move forward.

I have obviously gained agency not only in myself but also in my work, and I ensure that it has the best possible platform in which to be showcased.