Hiding from the world

I had lots to do yesterday; class prep, 3 paintings to finish and a short story to be redrafted for a monthly creative writing class (FYI this writing thing is really hard! Give me a thing to describe and I'm away but ask me to plot something and develop characters whilst thinking about figurative language and stylistic devices and I'm hopelessly lost. I'm on the verge of throwing my two main characters off the nearest cliff).

Instead I reorganised my books. In order of colour. There was a point, midway through the afternoon, when I thought I might have bitten off more than I could chew.

I think I might start another anonymous blog. There are loads of blogs that I love; painterly ones, bookish ones, cookery ones... but the ones that keep me coming back and subscribing are the ones that Tell The Truth*. About important, trivial stuff. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's uncomfortable, sometimes cynical and sad but always sincere. I had hoped that one day I might come back to this archive and find not only a creative diary but an account of what life was like at this point in time for me. What I have found when looking through old posts is a blog with a bit of an identity crisis. The posts that shine for me are the ones when I decide to just spill, regardless. I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have blogged under my real name. People I know read this and, though I know they wouldn't judge, I do hold back because of it. Here are some of the things I'm not blogging about at the moment:

1) Financial meltdown at work

2) The possibility that I might be made redundant and have to move back home

3) The future: what the hell am I doing with my life?

4) The writing thing

5) Weight loss and exercise. I'm not blogging about this because I thought to myself, somewhat haughtily, "this is a blog for creativity and intellectual, important things not something as girly as weight loss". But the thing is, I have lost about 2 stone since Christmas and this has made a WHOPPING GREAT BIG difference to my life. I'm not carrying around 15 years worth of self loathing for a start.

So, there's quite a lot of stuff that I've been editing out of this blog and I'm not quite sure where to go from here. What do you think peeps? Am I just worrying too much?

*The Truth, specifically, about what it's like to be a woman at this point in time. Because this is a heady, difficult, confusing, potentially amazing thing. And we're all in this together. But, God, it's hard. Basically.

In which the artist finds herself locked in a public loo, reading about Katie Price's split from Alex Reid.

Yesterday I found myself accidentally locked in the toilet in the adult learning centre on East Street in Banbury. I had gone there with my colleague Karen to look at some possible new software. It was the disabled loo so, in fairness, it was quite spacious. It was also painted in a pale institutional green which, as unlikely as it sounds, is actually quite flattering to the complexion. I was in there for over an hour whilst a contractor made his leisurely way over to Banbury to break me out. The other staff in the building managed to break the vent off the door to hand me refreshments, some old trashy magazines and a copy of Fern: My Story. It was all they could find. As I sat there, still hungover from the weekend's disappointment and contemplating my navel, I read about Cheryl Cole's new hair do and TOWIE and thought: "Rachel, this is a new low" as well as "this week has been a bit shit really".

A change of relationship status for one of my cousins has also led me to contemplate Internet dating as well as my belly button. It makes total sense. When you are looking for a job you scour the newspapers and Internet, fill out applications, update your CV, go for interviews, decide on something suitable and give it a go. You don't mope around waiting for the perfect job to land in your lap, you don't identify what your perfect job would be and then obsess over it for months on end hoping the universe will listen to your prayers and provide you with your heart's desire.

This is all very rational and sensible. However.

The people who argue the pros of online dating are probably the same ones who would tell me that love, desire and attraction are merely biological reactions; the merciless combined swarm of oxytocin, adrenalin and serotonin. But what is chemical to them is alchemy to me. Love is random magic and cannot be regulated and squashed onto a CV, crammed into tick boxes or rationalised. So, no to online dating then. For the time being at least. And this is what I decided locked in my mint green prison yesterday afternoon.