When Even The Rising Sun is Out of Sorts

As I got up this morning, as well as the surprise of heavy sprinkling of snow, there was a very strange glow in the pre-dawn light.

I noticed it straight away. There was something odd, as the striking glow of the sunrise was in the wrong part of the sky. Normally, that red patch is in the east, directly over the sea (where it should be). I reckon this apparent distortion might be caused by the clouds (or my lack of coffee). 

The clouds, heavy and laden with the fluffy stuff, could be obscuring the real sun, and that this strange sun rising in the south, is just a distortion, a reflection of the peculiar times we find ourselves in. So, in the context of strange times, thank you all for your funny and welcoming responses to both my Virtual Open Studio invitation & the Perpetual Calendar idea. 

The Virtual Open Studio continues and more about that below. Helen has done great work and the calendar is ready to be recycled. My last poll was about the Virtual Open Studio and it was a great to know if I did the work to build it, you would come. Thank you. 

I have decided to extend the Open Studio for the duration of Covid, as this Lockdown looks like is going on indefinitely. As well as having loads of work for sale that was hidden prior to my move, I discovered a real talent for matching people with paintings. If you are bewildered by choices or want some help, contact me.

 Listening to the radio morning, about the challenges of small talk for disabled people,  I was reminded of double leg amputee Ian Stanton, who died over 20 years ago… Ian was a great singer and wrote songs and one song came to mind that goes along the lines of "How did you get to be like that then . . . was it some great tragedy?"

"I was a stuntman in Jaws Two, and I really earned my fee"

People’s thoughtless invasion of privacy and the lack of basic courtesy afforded to disabled people in the public gaze is little spoken about.  

As a disabled person, I deal a lot with people who are unskilled in the art of striking up a conversation with those perceived as “other”.  

 More often than not, when I'm answering somebody's inquisitive question about whether I paint using my feet are in my mouth, and I challenge them a little with my answer, sometimes they're embarrassed and explain that they're only asking because one of their best friends has no arms/or they know a lot of artists without arms… My next question is kinda cheeky because I've never actually met anybody who could substantiate either of those claims. The person who told me that one of her best friends had no arms couldn't name her and. As for the guy who knew "a lot of artists without limbs” could not name one of them either.

 

Anyway, the point is, I love conversation, but sometimes if it's one direction disability focussed, it can be wearing. This means that I and other disabled people like me are experts at fielding unwanted attention. What interested me in the woman's conversation today was the assumption by the people engaging in small talk that her condition was temporary that she was one of really "one of them"… really an able-bodied person with a temporary inconvenience of a crutch. 

I know the conversation would have been very different if they thought she was permanently incapacitated. I could even predict the direction the conversation would have taken in that case. 

 

.......I predict that if those engaging in small talk considered her a permanently disabled person, their opening comment would have been "You are such an inspiration!"

I think it's ironic that the most frequent opening small talk gambit by non-disabled people about disabled people (designed to compliment), is also top of the list for the most cringeworthy, unwanted small talk by those of us on the receiving end . . . disabled people in the public gaze. 

One only has to listen to Stella Young's TED Talk to appreciate the depth of this little spoken-about, truth. She argues it ought to be referred to as 'Inspiration Porn '  . . . .in fetishising difference and/or tragedy we fetishise all difference and tragedy, and feed off it to make ourselves feel better about our own lives.

 

Back to The Future . . .?

I know that all of you are bemoaning the fact I did not make a calendar this year . . . But before you consign my beautiful artist's calendar 2019/2020 to the bin, WAIT! I know a minority are making the best of things and using a scissors, are about to chop up their Mary Duffy calendar and stick some pictures in a frame. The rest of you may have already chucked it in the recycling bin. The readers of this blog are geniuses obviously. And one, John Baker, contacted me with his idea. He simply stuck "January 2021" over Nov 2020 in and attempt to go backwards in time. Nice try, John . . . . It is not great for dates, but it is fabulous because it gave me a rather good idea. The main urgency now is to reach deep, deep into your recycling bin, and pull out your old calendar. Print out the attached pdf and stick it over January 2019. Hey Presto! we get to go back to the future, t

ogether. See my attempt to the right. It looks rather good. And unlike John Baker's, this adjustment includes real 2021 dates and so will actually work as a calendar until the end of 2023. Thank you John Baker. You are a genius and obviously worthy of the title of Emeritus Professor at UCD Dublin (my old Alma Mater). As we are enduring another Lockdown together with all other islanders here on the edge of Europe, times are indeed challenging. Every little helps. Thank you John Baker, (genius). The plan is to work on doing decent images that you can print A4 and stick over the next 23 months (as we go along).