A letter for FB.

It's been a year since my last show and more than a year and a half since I left an art group, feeling unworthy, stupid and humiliated. Ah, well, happens all the time, who cares. I handled it by starting a new life. 
Learned to dance (a little shaky and wonky).
Learned to swim (apparently not so bad).
Went to a job searching training course.
Learned how to write a CV (try to explain a ten years gap in an employment history)
Applied for a FAS course in office administration or something like that.
Rejected such course when an opportunity came.
Tried make a career of making sandwiches in a very busy shop for 9 months.
Went on holidays, bought stuff, threw stuff away.
Started going to gym 5 times a week. Sometimes twice a day. XAXA.
Met old friends, made new ones.
Have spent hours on the Internet, switching just between 2 or 3 familiar sites, which makes one more pathetic.
And some other stuff too, not very important, but lovely. 
Anything “arty” I made in between was something that made me... well, me.
It wont be fair to say that I was completely isolated and lonely. I've got so much support in a form of kind comments and “likes” on my page and blog about stuff I've done. Thanks, John, Alexandra, Paul, Jean, Catherine! You've made my year!
Suddenly I felt brave enough to apply for an open submission and (surprise, surprise!) got in. I thought it was totally crazy idea and no-one would like it. Was glad to be proved wrong, and even more surprised to find out that many people have been interested in the same idea of recycling stuff into art. That meant I'm not that lost and hopeless as I thought I am.
It became clear, that since I've not done any piece of “conversational” art for a long time, the description of that page is outdated. Still I want to keep it. It's just I'd like to be honest and say something like: Hi! I am an artist, and that's a few form of my freaking art.
And then go to dance with a pink Krokodilla or fly Nespresso Dragonflies in a courtyard with neighbours watching from the balconies thinking I must be nuts.
Oh, well. That's done. Now I know someone knows.
And I forgot to say  I learned once more how  to get over myself. :) 
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