I've been feeling worded out. Although I've been like this for a few weeks now, I think maybe the current malaise is simply too much input clogging up the word works.
Things are always a little flat in Galleryland during the Summer but we're definitely into the Autumn/Winter Preview Season now.
Last Thursday's preview was the first of the Season. A good turnout at the Scottish gallery, lots of very decent wine and some good pictures. Nice young artist who was able to talk intelligently about the work and didn't obfuscate.
Even when The Groundling, much the worse for wine, insisted on telling him what she thought his work was about and how she just knew her theory was a load of rubbish, but she just had to tell him anyway, he was able to run with the line that it's always interesting to hear what other people think your work is about and thank you for sharing your theory with me.
Friday was my own show at the Factory. I say "my own show" but despite there being only three of us on the invitations, there were, of course, lots more artists' work on display. It's a BIG gallery.
I got there early with Patsy123 and hung about looking approachable, glass of champagne in hand. Somehow, however, I failed to meet up with the woman with the camera who was taking pictures for a magazine which is distributed free to "the better class of people" (Mrs Sums and the Architect get it stuffed through their door and think it's a lot of bollocks).
The champagne flowed very freely and by and large I had a good time, though the Man With The Talent was rather more of an irritant than normal, hanging on my shoulder like a bloody Cap'n Flint.
Will Barrow kindly introduced me to the Chief Coonslor who was delighted with the work and couldn't understand how he'd never heard of me before.
"Aa make no promises, mind, but ye might hear from us again," was his parting shot. Well, who knows....