29.02.2020


My ability to up any kind of happiness percentage dropped this week and it’s related to the last post so without wanting to keep bringing up this man - the one who put the slime in the well - and to be discreet let’s just call him Slimewell for the time being - the reason Slimewell has a legacy on my mental health is that I’m as not confident as I would like to think I am. It’s still in there somewhere which is why I’m writing this blog to chart its un-earthing process. But it means when other things happen that require fortitude I find myself not very fortitude-y.

On Monday morning I got an email from someone in my industry (ART) letting me know that someone had ripped off one of my shows. They had looked at my stuff really carefully. Down to the very last brushstroke and down to the very last layer of paper mache. I was supposed to be starting a new animation project on Monday morning but I didn’t start it because of the email. This is where Slimewell’s legacy comes back into the story. Slimewell took his opportunities to look at me and my work and undermine them - for a long time - and I’m only now working out how to be confident again. So when someone rips off my work I would like to easily take it in my stride. But I can’t. However some fortitude has come from the unending poetry of filth that everyone I have spoken to this week has absolutely delighted in using to describe the person ripping me off. And people want to help me sort it out.

By the way this is not Slimewell ripping me off. It’s someone else. Is this confusing? Too many mean characters but this is real life not the Archers.

So I spent the week phoning up unions and meeting people and working out how to get un-ripped off again. It’s a bit tiring and annoying and unexpected and I thought I was going to be animating all week.

Nice things happened too. I saw my friend Drew for a couple of pints. He is VERY good at impressions. Ask him to do This Country for you when you meet him. Plus he was the person who introduced me to the podcasts of Elis James and John Robins, who have really helped lift my mood the last few months. And I sold a painting of a nice bum so I bought a train ticket to Scotland to see my friend Joel - did someone read my last post?