I’ve just had a very intense, busy week. People in the hospital. Friends with loved ones dying or dead. Hard things. I haven’t had the chance to cook half my meals, let alone basic things like check my e-mail. But today was a day off work, a day off hospitals, and a day off the last week. I did laundry, and vaccuumed my house, and finally sat down to watch Saturday’s episode of Doctor Who[1]. And I checked my e-mail.

And, six days ago, I got a wee notice telling me I’ve been selected to participate in “Hot Mud: A National Survey of Contemporary Canadian Emerging Artists.” 

I sent a national jury some photos from my show, and an artist statement, and my wee little CV without formal art school anywhere on it, and I got into a show. A national, juried show.

I am too exhausted to be suitably squeeful. But I am still quite happy about this.



[1] It starts off as a creepy ghost story, and I was steeling myself to sit through something I really, really was not in an emotional state to watch. But it had just enough goofy Scooby Doo-esque moments that I hung on, and it eventually turned out not to be a ghost story at all. Yay.

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