Merry Sunday everyone.


 

Everybody loves an epiphany.  And a slice of toast with a cuppa-brew. And crikey-Charlie, I’ve had both this week. 

As I sit here, with another pot of the good stuff, looking out wistfully over the sun setting upon the back-streets of Byker, a smile creeps onto my face.  I have realised my place this week, why I am here, in this city, and what it is I am doing.

I am doing art.  I am living art.  Art is living me.  And how could anyone in my position possibly frown?  I am here, doing what I want to do, meeting many wonderful people along the way.  Having fun, working hard, enjoying every minute.  And for the moments when it seems hard, exhausting, when I can’t see why, the community of artists here is only ever a preview away; willing, smiling, laughing, discussing, collaborating, realising, justifying.

And so next time someone asks me what I study and “What are you going to do with that?” with a smirk on their face, I shall simply reply,

“I am living.  I am an artist, and I can’t wait for Monday.  Can you?”

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