Archives for category: Fund Raising

1) Send out an email. There are too many recipients for this email. So send out 5 emails. Do some social media stuff.

2) Download something. Download a bittorrent. Download a template. Down load the thing. Install the thing. Do something to the thing. Re-upload the thing.

3) Arts council funding bid for a really bloody good project, that someone has potentially plagiarised from me. Why didn’t I keep my stuff more secret? Why didn’t I apply for more funding? Why did I get disheartened at the first hurdle and throw it all away.

4) Apply for a job.

5) Make a poster

6) Finish a piece of art and find someone to by it, so I can fulfill a promise I made.

7) Put some stuff on a bidding site to sell.

8) Take some things to charity. More things.

9) Respond to an email from an old friend saying thanks but no thanks… Why aren’t these people leaving me alone? It’s been years… What am I to conclude from the fact that people I am trying to leave behind refuse to be left?

10) Sort out volunteering at the local Buddhist Centre.

11) Send a reminder email to someone about volunteering my time to give benefits advice to people who are in need.

12) Go pick up somethings from a friends. Do things with the things.

13) Apply oil paints to an existing piece of art (recently made).

14) Call my mum.

15) Stop devoting brain energy to certain people, who are not even in the same city as me.

16) Write more book.

17) Call my dads and brother

and on and on and on and on and on and on and on… It feels like a land slide… I have to make some doctors appointments and attend some clinics too. I just want a hug really. From someone who loves me. A real physical hug, from a man, who loves me. I’d like to sleep properly and I’d like to move again. I’m feeling really claustrophobic.

I did manage to do several positive things today, but then someone stole my joy by telling a rape joke. It wasn’t funny. They never are. Did you know that if you tell someone who has told a rape joke that they are not funny, you reduce instances of rape. FACT. Don’t be a baby dude, tell your friend he’s not funny. I would, but we all know what happens when ‘teh menz’ are ask by women not to be arseholes.

Get Here If You Can – Oleta Adams.


I’m in. I’m surrounded by boxes. And I’m happy as a pig in poop. I threw away 10 bin bags of rubbish from the old place. Yeah! You heard right. 10. Rubbish. 10 bags of rubbish. I have one bag of confidential rubbish left. I want to burn it.

I’ve spent a week washing curtains. I wanted to put my own up, but the drop in the new place is 2 foot longer. So I washed the ones left in the new place so they would smell of me.

I decorated the bedroom and half decorated the bathroom and moved things from one box to another, to another, to another… You know like those games where you have to push blocks around a maze?

I was going to bed at sun down and rising at sun up. Or when the work men next door woke me, which ever happened earlier. I finally started to lose that weight that I thought I’d lose when I started working.

I’ve rebuilt all my furniture. Felt home sick for my old place. Cried because I knew my Nan would have loved this house. Watched the cat explore her new surroundings and been so excited that I have to make myself not let her in the garden until she’s had her boosters.

I handed in the keys to the old place. I drank the bottle of Lanson I was saving. I finally broke and put the computer together. I watched the rain on my new windows and I turned on my new gas fire. I managed not to kill my orchids in the move.

Laura Mvula is right…

Sometimes the grass ain’t greener on the other side.
Maybe the sky is clearer in another place.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Waiting for a day of change to come.
And you’re beautiful, dancing in a gloomy store.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Change did come… and the grass is greener. Even in the gloom of bereavement, I can see blue sky. I hope things keep changing for the better. It’s been a tough year. I have forgotten Om Mane Padme Hum on a Wednesday, usually remembering on Thursday morning.

I have four weeks of work left. A manuscript to type up still. And there are walks to be had. There is a heart to finish. How long can I live with all these boxes before they start to drive me nuts?

My friend has given me the information I need for a counselling course that starts in September and I am tempted to take a Painting and Decorating class too. I have funding to apply for, so I can continue the Patchwork Poems.

Life goes on.

Om Mane Padme Hum.

Hey old friends, hey new friends, I see you!

I’m one room done and ARGH more to go! The house is upside down and I’m thinking back to the last time I moved. I packed and moved in one day, in a transit. Oh. My. Days. I have too much stuff now.

When I try and get rid of stuff I end up holding on to it. I got rid of lots when the ex moved in and I’m stood in the middle of this big mess thinking, I NEED to get rid of more. This stuff is making me ill.

To help me, I have told my India pal (who is going to South Africa this time) that I am going to let her have the proceeds from a car boot sale. A promise is a promise. So far I have boxed 3 ornaments. I might need to look a bit closer at what I can let go.

Books. There are hundreds of books. I used to need new books like air. When did the acquisition of stuff stop mattering and why can’t I let go of stuff I no longer want or need? I know when it’s gone I will not miss it. So why cling to it?

As another tool of letting go, I have decided that only things of quality can remain in the new house. Anything that is not quality goes in the garden, to be sorted for fund raising for South Africa or for the local charity shop.

And then, my cousin asks me, do I want any of my Nan’s stuff.