UNSUBSCRIBE

Things are often rather slow in the first couple of months of each year work-wise. I’m not bragging (haha) but often there’s a brief lull after the festive rollercoaster of solo business. Not always; sometimes I leave the tax return as a sticky, out-of-date treat for the last week of January instead of sensibly doing it when it’s fresh in May, there might be organisation and admin to catch up on after the Christmas rush, but generally it’s a time for catching up, doing jobs I have made myriad excuses not to do and looking hopefully at the year ahead. This year I even did a complete clear out of the home studio and did heaps of shredding, recycling, binning, reorganising and repairing. My laptop was sent away for two weeks to get a replacement battery and during that time I didn’t keep a close eye on my emails. The laptop returned and aside from the noticeable speed increase on my digital demands, 

I observed the sheer volume of subscriber emails I received. There were hundreds of them and they were almost all a complete waste of my time. 

I unearthed yet another generic email from a promotion company trying to furnish me with personalised plastic goods; mugs, four colour pens, cheap office equipment and other planet choking horrors. How have I managed to unwittingly sign up to so many of these companies that clog my inbox with trash I never even read? In fact, did I even sign up to them…? I feel like these emails are happening to me rather than I am choosing to receive them. The emails are almost invariably bursting with the promise of job opportunities, print deals, ‘unmissable’ products, workshops and petitions, but each one I clicked past made a tiny impression, left a micro-feeling that stayed with me and often stunk up my mood. It might make me feel guilty, harassed, stupid, behind the times, poor or just sad. Nothing kills my buzz like an urgent email about something I don’t want on ebay, or a depressing pesticide use petition update. OK, some automated emails are helpful, interesting and lead to positive interactions, but they are in the minority.

I took a stand. I started unsubscribing them. If they have no place in my life and only feel negative, they go.

 I think I have successfully jettisoned at least five or six since new year and I intend to continue until my inbox feels tidy. The best is yet to come. Now I have left those emails behind me, I have carved out little moments of time to be freed up for something else. I have created space, not only in my inbox but also in my mind, at my desk. There are so many things out of my control in life, but this feels like something I can have a say in and can opt out of. I’m attempting to escape the constant drain on my mental bandwidth and the leaking of attention into crevasses in my inbox. I want to cultivate my limited time and use it for good things. 

I’m clearing the deadwood of cybertrash to make way for the new growth of ideas, good moods, time away from a screen and just… not having to feel bad.

This clear out is a gift to my future self, a way of clearing things up so Rosie-two-months-from-now is unburdened by the micro-niggles of emails leaking persuasive junk. That’s the plan. Inevitably online purchases, petition signing and networking will lead to another infestation next year, but I’ll keep up my unsubscribing habit to meet it.  

4. UNFINISHED BUSINESS

A small inked section of A Midsummer Night's Draft, Act II, Scene I. Puck first appears and we are introduced to the King and Queen of the fairies who are having some time apart.

I’ve started 2017 trying to overhaul Illustration, etc. That involved looking for help, mostly! Amy helps me for a few hours a week, I’m trying to take more time away from my desk, but still organising, sorting and cataloguing my past projects and work. I also decided it was time I went to the Cultural Enterprise Office last month for a one to one session to talk about Illustration, etc.’s future. I see these sessions as a kind of semi-emergency business therapy.

If I’m stuck and I don’t know what my next step is, I go for a chat

and I always feel so much better afterwards. I’m sometimes lacking another perspective and I can’t be very objective about the little business I’ve built for myself.

The upshot of this latest meeting* was that I should find more time to be creative, to pursue my own goals as well as those of my clients. HOORAY! Sounds like a great plan. Finding that time is part of the big overall plan, but for starters they encouraged me to consider taking on only projects that further my ‘story’.

So the things that interest me, that make me excited to be an illustrator, that I really believe in –heritage, equality, stories, community, education, all that sort of thing.

I joked about my recent organising and the folder marked ‘UNFINISHED’. It sits chronologically last in all my shelves of folders, encouraging me to add to it, or perhaps to finally migrate something from the folder to my desk and into a completed projects folder. The biggest of these ‘on-hold’ projects is pictured above. I call it A Midsummer Night’s Draft.

It’s so big. It sometimes feels pointless, but one of my goals (deep breath) is to illustrate the Shakespeare play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream as one single long panel using only Shakespeare’s words, like a lengthy tapestry. Back in Summer 2013 when I began this project (so long ago!) I edited the play down to (what I felt) was the minimum amount of text to tell the story properly. The play is set in ancient Greece, so my illustrations will reflect the vernacular art of that period. In this case I chose blackware pottery, you know, the elegant black and terracotta colour urns with all the people running around them, jaunty patterns, beasts, folk drinking and all that? The speech would go in the top and bottom borders, like a comic. I thought it would be fun. Turns out it is MASSIVE. Also, I don’t actually have a reason for doing it except that,

1.     I think it would be so beautiful if I get it right.

2.     It would be amazing to see the whole play all at one time so you could see all the themes and character arcs and mischief play out all at once.

3.     I actually think as an educational tool, it’d be a great introduction to the (let’s face it, pretty confusing) play.

4.     Folk who assume Shakespeare is too intellectual, too out of date, too boring would be able to see how much fun this magical play is right from the get go and would be able to see it and read it and understand it and it would still all be Shakespeare’s own words.

But it has been shelved. I don’t know how I would make it worthwhile, you see. Once I’ve finished it, then what? It’ll take several weeks to do at least, maybe months of not being paid. I just can’t do it. Who would fund something like this? The only remotely finished, inked section is the one I did for this blog post! I have only done the pencil sketches up to the end of Act II, Scene II and that took me at least an hour a day for three weeks in 2013. In pencil! Also, I’d do it a bit differently now so I guess it’s a page one rewrite.

I hope that other creatives have these folders - whether in their head or on a shelf or tucked away somewhere secret

– they feel to me like the dreams we return to when the rest of our working lives can feel somewhat staid or cynical. The thought of returning to this unfinished draft fills me with trepidation, but also I can still see its latent potential. It will give me pleasure to revisit it and build it up, inch by inch. I might even tweet some images at the Globe or the RSC or something - they might like the idea too. Looking through the folder of half baked ideas and forgotten sketches, I look forward to the possibility of placing some in the bin where they belong, others back on the shelf for another time and the occasional one onto my desk for much needed reconstructive surgery.

*Overall I have had three CEO meetings, two in 2014 that were connected to the Glasgow Alphabet Map project (it lacked direction initially) and then this latest one once I remembered it was an option.