Posted by: okathleen | February 24, 2009

D Day Looms

67 67 67 67 67 67

67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67

67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67 67.

Sixty seven sunsets. Only, that’s all. Just days left.

Until the sun sets on a three year travail, an epic yomp through the obstacle course of academia.

It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. Nothing like what I thought. One word to sum it up would have to be;

Disappointing disappointing disappointing disappointing disappointing disappointing.

That’s more than one word.

Back to 67.

In 67 days I have to CURATE AN EXHIBITION. Me. Me? Curate.

I have to review literature and scribble biographies of three poets.

I have to take photographs of my found objects. Of stuff. Of all the bloody stuff lying around the rural idyll; the glass and the bowls and the paintings and the books and the broken tatty bewildering mish mash of junk.

I have to write poems, haiku and limericks and sonnets and maybe even an epic. There’s a short story lurking somewhere too. I have to fix the poetry to the objects.

I have to write about objects. Why collect? What does it mean? The psychology and the philosophy of accumulated tat. Then write about my writing, does it work, if so why? If it doesn’t why not?

Then there is a film to make. A leaflet and report to publish. And a script.

67 days. Stop prevaricating,

Just Do It.

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Responses

  1. In 67 days? OMG that’s a fair amount to do in 67 days. 67 days!!! You better get on it yesterday. And good luck….

  2. Yes indeed finishing a course does induce post-coital tristesse of a most desultory sort.

    I thought you meant 67 days until the wedding!

    I’m sure, as another curate said, that parts of the exhibition will be excellent.

    • Betty, I concur, parts of the exhibition will be eggsellent, probably the packing up at the end. As for 67 days until the splicing, I only have three things to remember apparently, so no panic: aisle, altar, hymn, or if you are a cynical misogynist: I’ll alter him!

      Qu, I am trying to get on with it, I promise, but there are so many distractions, I’d rather be doing anything… in fact, that reminds me, the kitchen sink needs unblocking.


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