Thursday 27th of Janurary, 2011. 13:08pm. ECA studio
Can’t pinpoint the reason but God I’m fed up with Edinburgh! It feels smaller every day, where the same people just walk and meet in circuits.. I want to go visit Rory and Mairi and drink with them- I think the grass is greener in Glasgow. It’s weird how much my enthusiasm has shifted over the Christmas period. Last night I was half set to go to the Grassmarket for this college ‘Painter’s Pub’ thing, but sent a few texts and found there was no one I could really go along with. Met Sarah outside the Black Bull on her way back from Princess Street and we looked in, but it was just this single table in the middle, where extra seating looked like hassle. Sarah got a little impatient . It was kind of cold. There was probably a lot more to it that id like to admit. But when we decided to go home, watch TV and put the heating on, it was with both a mixture of relief and regret.
Friday, March 4th, 12:49pm. Studio C7. ECA
Not sleeping much at all. Too busy to write this actually. Listening to The Offspring, all very fast paced- major nostalgia kick. Really takes you back to the excitement of being about 15. Doing a drawing- where’s it going? Worried about the exhibition. Waiting for texts. Can tend to do a lot of waiting these days. Annoyed at myself for even recording this, like somehow this red bok is bored of my obsessions.
Is this something I’ll regret? Do I want what I can’t get?
I'd play with fire to break the ice.
Wednesday 6th of April, 2011. Studio C7 , 20:42pm.
Things are on the slow again. Procrastination is here and journal is back in full swing.
Not sure if college is even open 24 hours, no doubt be gone before I have to find out. Someone is playing Leonard Cohen and ominous Eastern European is in.
All my linseed oil has turned from white to yellow- like all my drawings are dying or something. The summer is approaching, strange but nice as the days get longer and the nights lighter. But things are still so fucking slow. I’m predictably restless and largely directionless despite looming deadlines. Hopefully get a few shifts at Avalanche, but generally the hours are long and dull! Kevin the boss, is alarmingly passive aggressive and listens to dwindly acoustic Scottish Bands. It’s nothing High Fidelity.
Monday 23rd of May, 2011, 23:16pm. Mairi’s bedroom.
( Day and night for Art School Degree Show in Dundee)
After dinner we went to an exhibition at a warehouse thing scattered with some ex- eca names and trendy (?) Dundee types. Some work was quite interesting but may have been given the sheer length of time I spent staring at it ( we were there for hours). Met the artist later however and felt differently.
We met up with Martyn’s friend who lead us to a party at a mystery flat owned by an eccentric, acrobatic type with an imaginative moustache and a tendency to cartwheel. He said he was a photographer but apparently only took terrible pictures. The cornicing on the ceiling was listed and the flat was very nice. Martyn became pre-occupied with a drum kit and I wandered around a little ( occasionally outside for a change of scenery). Met a guy who knew Catriona from Avalanche. Felt like a very small world. I smoked a little weed but didn’t feel much. I nursed two glasses of whiskey and watched the clock. The party numbers died down around half 3 leaving only the acrobat, Martyn’s friend, strange John Fruscainte like flatmate, Martyn and myself. Around 5ish, Martyn played a beautiful rendition of Damien Rice’s Cannonball ( which given the context melted me). Felt like a puddle of something on the floor. When the sun came up fully around 6, a group of the acrobats shoolfriends arrived- raising the question- how old was the acrobat? The individuals in question looked like they spanned the ages of mid-twenties to early 40’s?. They took lines of a brown (?) substance, politely offered to everyone on a glass tray. The acrobat was feverishly keen to entertain, offering an endless supply of tequila in expensive bottles, thus raising further questions . With the sun fully up at half six, the day shed light on the situation, in manner of revelationary point in novel.
Martyn and I walked to the bus stop shortly after, but got lost, mis-judged the bus times and had to wait for the train station to open around 7:15am. Dundee as a city has very little to offer, and looks like a badly put together extended Biggar high street. All nighters in unknown cities with your new boyfriend could probably be wonderfully exciting but not in Dundee. We just stared at a roundabout for a while, sitting against a wall while he savoured an orange. Occassionaly everything was hilariouisly funny. Hadn’t eaten for about 13 hours. Hadn’t slept in 22.
Sunday 5th of June, 2011. 12:22pm. Living Room, Home.
Love may not produce happiness; whether or not it does in the end is of little relevance. It’s primary effect is to energize. Have you ever talked as much, needed less sleep, returned to sex so eagerly as when you fall in love? The anaemic begin to glow, while the normally healthy become intolerable. Next it gives spine stretching confidence. You feel like you are standing up straight again or perhaps for the first time. You feel you can do anything while this feeling lasts. You can take on the world. I could make this distinction – love enhances confidence whereas sexual conquest merely develops the ego.
Do you know you love someone when you love them more than yourself?
Friday 10th of June, 2011, 11:23am. Avalanche Records.
Kevin is a bitter old bastard and am I fuck working for him all summer. “ The greatest way to learn is by other people’s idiotic mistakes’. He sucks the life and joy out of music. John is in. He used to work for Kevin for a few years but then told him he needed a break and went to work in Fopp five days a week. I’m not sure if he knows. Kevin says only stupid people work in live CD shops.
Wednesday 29th of June, 15:49pm. Bedroom, France.
In bedroom listening to In Rainbows. Stole an adaptor from the toaster in the kitchen. Feels so good to be able to listen to music again. I need it.
A nice day at the lake yesterday. We went to this bridge and watched Tom, Martyn , Josh and latterly Stephen jump in below. It looked terrifying. Martyn picked me flowers. Afterwards we sat by the river and waited for Dan to pick us up. We drew the storm coming. When we got back to the house it started to thunder and lightening and pour down. We stood outside in the garden and watched the flashes. The raindrops were huge. Martyn and I played cards for hours and Stephen dealt. It was Josh’s last night and I drank the best of a bottle of wine at the table. I laughed so much I was crying.
Thursday 7th of July, 2011, 11:47am, Avalanche Records.
Kevin just bad mouthed me to a customer. . . again! I am fed up with this. Continual urge to give him the finger and just walk out. It could be like a film where a great triumphant song plays as I turn the corner. I could even make a terrific speech with a great closing line. . . . Someone from Red Dog Music brought their soya latte back this morning because the milk was off, but Kevin bought the milk so I wasn’t sure what to do. He then insisted on phoning the other girl Catriona on her day off to ask what could have possibly gone wrong. Since when did she become a dairy expert on top of everything else? I think he thinks he is one of the few sane people in the world, when in fact he is fucking mental. He even rolled his eyes when I suggested I wasn’t quite sure what I was to ask her. But what was up for debate?? THE MILK WAS JUST OFF!?
15:58pm
Losing the plot. This really is Hell. Very occasionally Kevin asks me questions as if remotely interested in my life, but by the time I take breath to answer he has lost interest and is no longer listening. How will I fill the final hour before I can tidy up? Check train times. Check facebook. Re-read the Skinny, maybe from back to front this time?
16:08pm
Nothing on Facebook. Trains come every hour. This is intolerable! Should I steal a millionaire shortbread or would he notice? I don’t even want it, I’m just so fucking bored! Oh my God, Bright Eyes AGAIN. I swear that voice has become something dark in my head. I haven’t spoken out loud in almost 2 hours. This is death by Indie pop.
16:37pm
Have a sudden urge to get horrendiously pissed. Seriously considering picking up a bottle of gin on the milk run. Would need mints to mask the smell of booze.
Saturday 9th of July, 2011. 15:02pm. The Gladstone, Gallery Biggar.
(New Gallery job )
If Avalanche has taught me anything ( besides that intolerably rude people do exist), then it’s how to effectively pass time. This gallery job is a breeze. No boss breathing down your neck, run of the CD player ( New Order). And I could sell a painting for sure. 2 hours till close is nothing in the great scheme of things, particularly if you break time up into units of 15 minutes. Checking your facebook, scrolling through pictures of people you kind of know, writing in your journal, re-applying all your make-up, eating, drinking and making and tidying up numerous hot beverages- all these activities take time.
I could easily do another hour or so here without too much boredom. Probably.
16:11pm
Hardly any time left at all. Why would anyone buy these paintings? They are awful on the most part. Getting a bit tired now.
16:40pm
About to leave. Sold a bad painting and pretty offensive drawing of a horse. The general public have really no taste. I don’t hate horses I just bloody hate that drawing.
Wednesday 13th of July 2011, 12:47pm, Bedroom, Flat Lauriston Gardens.
It will always feel strange when people step out of your life. When you walk past places you associate them with and feel a blank space. Just picturing them there and then disappearing. I don’t know if its sad. I can’t decide. People keep telling me to address problems head on and not ignore them. Not just hope they disappear. A major mistake I made was thinking that if he wasn’t listening,didn’t try to help me or didn’t especially care then I thought nothing was real . Like a sort of warped escapism. That doesn’t happen anymore.
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