March

Small joys and old bats

So much has happened this month that I am at a loss for words. There is too much to tell you about and it feels overwhelming to know where to begin, so maybe I won’t and will talk about something else instead.

In short, The Gift Gatherers published, I went to Sweden to see my family for a few days, went to a Cuban themed spa hotel for the night, had an in person book launch for my tribe members, an online book launch with my publishers, packed and posted out 100s of preorders, took the cat to the vet twice, spent longer than is good for one’s blood pressure sorting solicitors and estate estate agents and growling like an old bat at people who need to pull their fingers out and do some work in a timely manner, had house viewings and surveyors poking around, made and marketed a collection of creatures linked to the new book, negotiated a stinking cough and cold, started sorting books and drawers and junk for moving and somehow try and do stuff like eat and sleep and walk the dog!

If I told you all about all of that, this post would be like one of those comedy scrolls that roll down across the floor and into the next county, possibly country and you’ll be reading it till July. Also if you look at my notes or follow me on social media, you’ve probably seen a lot of that already, (though thankfully not the snot) So, I am going to tell you about some of the edges and inbetween moments which is where I like to reside.

A few pics from Sweden. The copper boat was the most amazing thing to see. A local artist making from old copper water tanks. Beautiful.

I find it so odd the feeling of longing to be there and then suddenly you are, and it just feels normal and home and then in a flash like a dream you are gone and back here and another normal. The elastic feels a bit stretched and frayed as I adjust to here and not there and home and not home. We looked at a lot of old family photos and documents to sort to send to the archives in Stockholm (my grandparents had an extraordinary life in Kashgar, and India as well as Sweden, and there is interest in my grandmother’s diaries and letters and photos).

I love the links to ancestors, those who came before. An inspiration for the circle of elders in the gift gathers book. We are not alone but watched over those who came before.

When I was younger, I was desperately shy. I would hide when people came round to the house. The thought of phoning up someone was such a huge dread, I would do anything not to do it. That dread when your mum was chatting to a relative and you’d hear those words' “Karin is here, would you like a word” argh no, don’t make me talk to anyone. Anything that went wrong, I’d just cry quietly to myself and put up with it. I’d not complain or dare to say anything.

Me happy not having to speak to anyone on the phone!

But I will be 59 in April and how things change.

I feel non binary, that’s where I reside and am myself, but not many people see me that way sadly. It grates but I am starting to think maybe I just left it too long to find out these things exist and tell people who I really am. Maybe I can find a way I can embrace my feminine old crone old bat-dom and not cringe quite so hard when people say ‘she’ instead of ‘they’. I hope for those young ones coming up behind me that they/them becomes the norm and they are just accepted. How wonderful would that be.

Anyway, I am going to talk to you about my non binary crone era. I had an early menopause due to my cancer treatment in my early 40s. So I’ve had a lot of time to practice being an old bat. Despite that early hormonal change, it has taken me till what would be my natural menopause time of my 50s to become into myself and feel like a crone and now I am loving being an old bat. I find myself putting on my teacher voice and not taking any nonsense, picking up the phone and saying what’s happening? Why hasn’t this happened yet? It makes me smile. People think I’ve got more confident from external things but I think it is just natural with age. I still feel imposter syndrome for my art and books!

I have found a confidence and assertiveness that is a joy. I no longer try and shrink myself walking down the street, dreading the whistles and shouts of ‘show us your tits, and give us a kiss and all the other shite I had to put up with from school age onwards. The only comments I get now are women telling me they love my hair. It is joyful. Sad that it has to be a joy, becoming invisible, but a joy all the same. I don’t really understand this need to look younger, botox and all that. I love wrinkles and signs of a life well lived. I think they are so beautiful when I look at others. I wouldn’t want to hide them.

Last week I had a conversation with the estate agents who were saying our solicitor was being slow. I would have shrunk and somehow felt it was my fault in the past, but I replied and said what can I do to help? I am happy to be an old bat and phone them up and have a go if needed! So, there have been phone calls and things are moving and there have been complaints to book buying companies and payments are being made and I am enjoying being an old bat. So many people dread becoming older but I love it. It might be because I wasn’t sure I’d be here at one time, but I am loving it and not wishing time away. Being in your 50s is wonderful, I think it is when we become us. I know my knees creak a bit and I need to wear glasses now, but overall I love the freedom and wisdom of being here.

Me and Jo Scott in the Shed.

The other thing I did this month was meet up with another artist. I did question if I had time to take a day off due to everything happening above, but actually meeting the day after the book launch, was the perfect thing to do. Jo Scott is one of those radiator people, someone who you feel more energised and warm after a day in their presence. We had lunch and talked shop and talked about old bat-dom and everything in-between and I came away with lots of inspiration and ideas and it was just lovely to chat to someone else who understands the life of an artist trying to make a living in a precarious online way. Do go and follow Jo, her posts and her paintings are a joy.

Last time Jo came to the Shed, she painted me in the shed. You can read about her visit here

Postcard #1: From The Shed

We also talked about getting to the stage of wanting to slow down a bit, and how we have to keep changing, working to find our customers and audience, it is a precarious way to earn a living but I’d not have it any other way.

It has been super hard work trying to get myself and the new book seen. Social media is changing, those good old days of posting on facebook and Instagram, everyone seeing it, chatting away and buying stuff are long gone.

I’ve talked before of the mild peril of putting up work and hoping someone sees it and wants to buy it. Usually I shrug and think it will get better if it doesn’t go as well as I hoped, but currently it feels a bit more scary as I’m using my back up savings to buy the new house, and the world is well, you know, on fire and people are scared and poor and all that. BUT, that is rabbit hole I won’t fall down, the one of fear, the old bat makes me arsey enough to keep going and finding new ways and learning and growing and more confident that what I do is needed and wanted. I will find a way for those people to find me and perhaps you can help too? Perhaps some of you are over here? Perhaps you know of someone who needs a little shrew or solstice badger to watch over them or a book of small joys and seasonal heart felt wanderings and could show them I exist? If nothing else, seeing a dancing weasel or a mouse having a cuppa will brighten their day!

We need small joys in our days, we need them to be able to cope with everything that is out there. We need small joys and kindnesses to be able to spread it out to others. I am a firm believer in fighting hate with joy and kindness. The more dreadful things that happen, the more we need to lean into kindness and joys. Not in spite of what is happening, but because of it. The Gift Gatherers is a celebration of a life well lived, how we can help others walk their path in life and that a few bumps along the way are a good thing sometimes.

So I invite you to do a small act of kindness, I invite you to comment and tell me a small joy in your day or write them down each evening. Can you be a gift gathering elder to someone? Guide them quietly, cheer them on, watch over them as they walk this thing called life. Send a text or a card to a friend, just to say hi, I see you, I think about you. You matter.

Remind others of the joy and beauty there is in the world, give people hope that things can change. Protest and petition and donate and help with rage but also with joy.

The birds are singing so beautifully. the spring flowers are peeping out and the first bluebells are appearing. I picked wild garlic and made hummus with it for my little grandkid. Small joys.

They matter.

And a request to support and cheer on any small business and artist you know. I know so many are finding things tough just now. Share their posts, love them, give a little comment, subscribe to their email lists and substacks, tell your friends about a cool thing you saw, buy your cards and gifts from artists and not those billionaire places that are trashing the planet and us too.

My dear friend Jen is on Substack now. I would recommend giving them a follow too over at Of Half Imagined things. Their whale bios are a small joy indeed.

Here’s to Small joys for small people and embrace your inner old bat when needed.

It is rather delicious to do so.

Thank you for reading. It means the world.

To those who pay to subscribe for these, an extra huge thank you. TodayI am taking a day to sort and pack some of the house and to just sit in the garden quietly for an hour. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that moment of small joy thanks to you.

With love as always from the shed

Karin