The Beehive

 I realise I made a mistake earlier as I wrote my to do list in red pen, and for some reason I can't seem to read it properly. I am better writing in another colour and crossing it off in red. Perhaps a school throwback. But anyway, that isn't what I am here to talk about. Although perhaps I need to take a moment and rewrite it...

There, rewritten so I feel a bit better, although now I wish it wasn't on lined paper; it is obviously an OCD day. 

So I missed an important blog post about putting my work up in The Beehive in Maidenhead earlier this month, a well known and posh pub in the White Waltham area of town. I was lucky as the slot was meant to be for three weeks, but I got given six instead. I am currently surprised I haven't sold a few of the pieces, but perhaps bad timing, perhaps that will happen later, and equally there is still some time left to go, so I will hold firm to my belief that something will be finding a new home. It was strange to get ready for the show, a bit intense, a lot of work, last minute prepping and last minute painting. I didn't realise that taking the paintings from my house would feel like removing my forcefield. I felt vulnerable and bare, even after putting up other work on my empty walls. The last few years have been strange, wars, climate disaster, covid, and I hadn't noticed that I had painted myself some protection. Colour is my shield, and without it I felt lost, momentarily at least, then I was quite happy to have 17 paintings elsewhere and some more room in my flat. 

I did pop into The Beehive with some friends for a drink the other weekend though and it was good to see my painted friends, happily adorning the pub walls and feeling like home, so perhaps I will also be happy to have them back.