We have not heard a drop of news from the abstract realm and we feel all the better for it. Our mind is clearing or perhaps quietening and our thoughts are honed on the work of painting and the plan for the rest of the year. I am imagining finishing this season exactly at the end of December in order to pick up a new season from January 1st. That is presumptuous I know but I am far from certain we will be in any position to work at all next year so trust me, I'm not lobbying.
This backing away of ours has coincided with a general reckoning in terms of both health and economy. Almost as soon as we boarded I developed a debilitating nagel trong1 that gradually worsened and hindered us through all our autumn studies and has in fact prevented work for the past ten days. Yesterday I made an appearance at Norrtälje Vårdcentral and the good doctor ripped it out and now I sit at home with my leg up and lid open in a position that, owing to the codine,2 I have not flinched from for several hours. During this time I have made a run of drawings of a saucer of pears.
Our economic situation has not worsened but is hopeless. I have not been one to bore you with financial details but as we are coming to a crunch why not? I am or have become, as we know, a cartoon of a 19th century plein air painter; palette, beard, heavy dark coat and the ability to put painting before moral obligations without batting an eye at reality - letting others provide for my own deluded passion. Perhaps a little harsh but looked at through a wiped glass it is clear that the bread has been won by my partner Helen these past years in Sweden and while we have scraped some shillings and continue to take a care subsidy from my elders, their has been no bread won or even competed for by us beyond our commercial strains and loan taking. Our meagre and intermittent sales have provided only rusk and with the topic of moving house now burning a hole through the table, and with this goal being simply unachievable with our current situation, the flashlight has been turned, tightened, fixed and welded into position shining squarely, on me.
It is the case that to qualify for a loan of moneys to facilitate the purchase of house one needs to have permanent employment and a record of earning to present to the judges. The employment is key then, to the extent that even if we would have sold all our works during the commercial season for double their price, that achievement would mean not a lot in terms of qualifying for loan because they need to see regular salary. So a job it must be. If we were playing it by the book we would have learned Swedish and found employment long ago in a variety of areas such as care for the elderly, postal worker, bus driver, shelf stacker but currently ours is piecemeal comprehension and a general lack of spoken, not nearly enough to pass the test. This means that the employment that we could gain now would be temporary and of the ground work or litter patrol variety, which I might add is no problem to me and indeed I have done this work in a variety of county councils in England, but it is of no use in terms of getting a loan.
Any job would provide money but take away time and that would mean that I could no longer provide the care visits and help to my mother and would in turn lose that allowance so the money earned would be cancelled out and my mother would be a little lonelier. The only boon to be found is if the work is of a sort to convince the loan people, meaning a permanent position. Look here, all that we have created for the DS these past two seasons has been worked on in tiny pockets of time snatched in the gap between dropping off the girls at school and my mothers second cup! Its a long, long way from the likes of Gauguin abandoning his family for the oils but it is an unbalanced situation to be sure but one that has no smooth passage to a calm status. Technically I could even teach at the arts academy but I would be more likely to be knocked spark out by a flying bullar than get a job at the uni's where every post is applied for by a thousand manic eyed, contemporary hot shot artist/activists. So it is an awkward pickle. We must earn some money and address the imbalance but we have my mother to think of and this with respect to her comfort and well being but also for the allowance we currently receive from her. Any job must be permanent to help with house purchase and even should I start such a job today a record of regular income is required so even in the best case there can be no quick move. The best course would be to get a grip on this alien tongue and swing at the fences for a position which is perhaps part time, to allow for the proper time with my mother who know sits alone. Until such time, and as a back up measure to ease general financial straits, I have applied for a number of distance learning courses for which one can receive a student loan. This at the egging of Helen who understandably sees not a lot of hope hidden in our Doing and wants to 'get moving' in a general sense.
My codine is wearing off so I must reach for the pills. I have been taking in more Infinite Jest but am none the wiser still but he certainly writes in piercing fashion with laser eyes, particularly about drugs, addiction and tennis, strangely.
With bandaged toe,
John
1 Swedish for an ingrowing toenail.
2 A mixture of paracetamol and morphine.