when i was a child i found a diary a difficult pet to keep.
i wanted one, desperately, more for the imagined legacy i thought i was due to leave than for the health benefits. but i couldn’t ever really do it.
primarily because i fell out of habit with it often and left gaps of months. but moreso because when i, when restarting the project, always felt the need to introduce myself all over again.
and by introduce, i mean working on the assumption that nothing of myself was known, nothing at all, everything was to be stated.
my name, my age, where i live, how many sibilings i have, their names, my parents names, their occupation, and so on and so on. AND it had to be organic, i couldn’t just state it.
it was a bore every time but how was i to start when no one knew who i was. was i expected to just suddenly speak into the blank page?
i began a diary at the beginning of this year, i gave up in early march. which is a shame because i had a fairly exciting march! i exhibited for the first time in a real proper gallery (see here)! i got wonderfully drunk and danced with my friends! etc. etc.
now, in the cruelest month, i have only the scary looming question of ‘what next’
i am not introducing myself because if i do, i’ll give up.
i might also give up having not introduced myself, but at least i can’t blame it on anything other than myself!