Episode 107 'Exhibition of the Mind'

September is coming to a close. The full moon is nigh. And everything has changed. Anxiety blossoms in a season of letting go. And yet, could this be a time of new beginnings? (for more daily horoscopes, please DM me @mystictommy)

Autumn has always been my favourite time of year, however, Lisbon has a vastly differently energy and aesthetic to this season. It is all geographical, of course; the city doesn't have its own agenda. With the warmer climate, Portugal doesn't offer those frosty mornings or the gentle colour transition from golden to red to brown. The air becomes cooler, naturally, and you feel refreshed after a long summer of hugging humidity. The long sleeved chequered shirts come out. Fingerless gloves are trending. Then all of a sudden the leaves are brown and falling to the cobbled streets as winter begins. There are a handful of things I miss about the UK; autumn is definitely one of them.

I am beginning a new (and rather confusing) phase in my life where the few constants I have will be my crux as I adapt to a new reality. These constants have always been there for me; my artwork (something I am truly relying on for solace), Star Wars, escaping in to nature with the van and some very specific playlists that give both melancholy and hopeful vibes. 

You may think it's very easy for me to slap Star Wars on all of my top ten lists, but I don't think you understand the importance of this galaxy to me. It's the same with the Lord of the Rings, books written by Enyd Blyton and the discovery of job prospects in the stop motion industry. All came at very significant conjunctions whilst I was growing up. Sometimes, I need to make examples that others can relate to; maybe like supporting the same football team since you were 5 years old or the unconditional love a dog would give its owner? The former sounds a little artificial, but after you watch 'Welcome to Wrexham', a sports documentary with Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney, you understand the power of a community and how much commitment people will give to something they believe in. 

Nostalgia plays a big role. But it only scratches the surface. 

When you rely on something that you believe in then you allow that power to guide you. This is ticking all the boxes for religion, but I am an atheist so tend not to dabble in that particular system of faith. But my love for Star Wars has given me such a drive that perhaps I do believe in an overall power (or Force) that binds the galaxy together. I have meditated in my Jedi robes very comfortably. I also find peace when I listen to the movie soundtracks. Basically what I am saying is that I will be just fine. As long as I have my lightsaber close to hand, I feel like I can get through anything. 

I have a similar constitution when it comes to art. But instead of a laser sword I would pick up a paintbrush. 

As an artist, you begin to understand that this will never be just a hobby. The fact that you choose this path is a testament to your own perseverance and dedication. You need creative stamina; because you are in this for the long haul. Friends doubt you. Your family may suggest alternatives. But the irony here is that deep down everyone wishes that they could follow their dream. But it's not easy to have a career that utterly binds everything that you believe in and pursue. All of your ideas, creative thoughts, imagination, knowledge and skills, your daily routine, professional projects, personal projects, jobs, commissions, art for yourself, art for others. It is an all consuming dream. 

Art is actually my life. And I think... I can begin to feel very proud of my achievements. It was never easy. If it was, then it would just be the way. 

This is why I feel very humbled to be putting together a new collection of my illustrations for an upcoming exhibition. I guess, technically it's not an exhibition. The reason being is that it takes place at a yoga studio, and therefore the majority of interest will come from members of the public coming to a yoga class or workshop. But it still exhibits my work (gosh, I love technicalities). The artwork will be displayed on the wall, showcasing myself as a local artist and collaborator with the studio. I will have the opportunity to sell my work (the original pieces and additional prints) and generally gain a little more spotlight for my current wave of illustration projects. This will be my first step into a wider world and I am very excited.

I feel like this has been years in the making. My ambition to sell artwork has always been there but distractions and procrastination have run riot through my life. I actually consider myself a lazy artist. Lucy has always pushed me, and for that I will forever be grateful of her support. 

I have been feverishly illustrating the new collection for weeks now. It has kept my mind pre-occupied from my anguished internal dialogue. But alongside my full time job at the animation studio, I still find myself becoming a little stressed due to the deadlines. How can an artist ever find this balance? When do you consider yourself as a confident, thriving creative without the weight of a production line on your shoulders? The silver lining is that, at least, I am getting stressed about my artwork (which I can handle) and not something mind-blowingly fucked up as trying to sell a property in the UK. 

I mean not to gripe about this, or sound unappreciative. I think perhaps the pressure is getting to me and I feel very nervous to be sharing my work, with the obligation to then talk about it. My chest feels like it's going to explode with anxiety driven butterflies; something made more hilariously twisted due to the fact that everything takes place at a peaceful yoga studio (and breath). There will be an event, one evening in October, where friends, family and members of the public can attend to see the exhibition. I am almost 37 years old and this will be the first time my artwork will be on display for the public, so you can imagine my spectrum of emotion. Fear and loathing in my head. I have been painting ever since I could hold a paintbrush and the idea of finally having something on display truly is actually quite terrifying.

I have one more week to finish all these illustrations. I also need to invest in some rather fetching frames and print out my new business cards. This new (and outrageously busy) routine has definitely come at a time when I needed it the most. The quest was to utterly fill my mind with distractions and I believe this has been achieved. If I maintain this momentum then hopefully by the new year I shall be in a better place. I am trusting what I know and love; because what else can we do?

And now that the Van is operational again, I can drive this piece of junk point five past lightspeed and finally adventure once more. In the words of Han Solo, 'She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts.' The Van [aka the Rebel Scum] is my Millennium Falcon. My escape pod. And I will have big plans for her. 

Stay tuned folks.