Easing into normal life
In which I try to reacclimatise to London life after a month at home, where I am well-fed, wanted, and loved
Since my last update, I have gone back home (as in the Philippines) and then back home again (as in London), and also have quit my job, which is a whole other story. After bouts of panic and opening ten million tabs of job vacancies, I’ve decided that maybe all I want in life is to be an artist (and writer and designer…), and maybe a shop girl on the side. I don’t know if I want a full-time career that involves counting holidays and clocking in and out of an office five times a week.
Sometimes, I do.
When I see my friends doing amazing things in the companies they’re in — or even companies they actually own — I do feel a tinge of insecurity and longing for that sort of visible and quantifiable success. I know these things were not achieved without a lot of hard work and sacrifice, but you rarely see the processes or the behind-the-scenes labour. Incidentally, these aspects are usually what interest me the most. Seeing what goes into something beautiful can demystify it, but for me, I think it adds to the magic.
Anyway. I think I promised some sort of critical analyses here. At least in the way that I do my writing, which is fairly casual and familiar. My art writing is usually quite lowbrow and approachable, despite spending all that money on a master’s degree in research, lol. But that’s how I like to think about art, too. Finding points of connection, and just trying not to overanalyse or look too deeply into something just to have something to say.
I have missed writing, and I always say it. It might not seem so because of all the deadlines I’ve let pass me by, but I do. (Sorry, Don. Sorry, Lou. Sorry, Ryan.) But the bits of writing that I do manage to wring out of me, I’ve cherished. Even more-so after a friend lauds it without realising I wrote it, or when someone whose work I admire (up close or from afar) takes the time to say that they loved reading it.
I truly don’t know what to do at the moment, and I know I’m lucky to be in a position that allows me to kind of sit in this uncertainty. I know that despite the anxieties this state comes with, being able to just let it happen is a luxury in itself
I came away from being back home wondering what I am doing, so disconnected from the circles of people I love and adore, living so far away, feeling marooned on an island where other people also live. It’s hard to make yourself known in this city, where everyone else seems to want to be paid attention to, too. I think I had to come to terms with that and reevaluate why I needed attention at all.
Painting, and looking after a shop, and looking after myself and the people around me sounds more and more appealing each day. Having the time, energy, and emotional capacity to write you letters is another bonus of this state that I think I kept forgetting about.
P.S. I did go to see some shows since coming back here. I don’t know how I feel about them yet. What I do know is that I really missed being at home and looking at art by friends and friends of friends. I wholeheartedly think there is so much unrecognised talent in the Philippines, and I just want to make the rest of the world look.
P.P.S. Tomorrow, I’m flying to Ireland to meet Mark’s family. Eep.
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