“GO TO HELL WITH YOUR MONEY BASTARD. REFUSE PRIZE. NEVER ASKED FOR IT. AGAINST ALL DECENCY MIX ARTIST AGAINST HIS WILL IN YOUR PUBLICITY. I WANT PUBLIC CONFIRMATION NOT TO HAVE PARTICIPATED IN YOUR RIDICULOUS GAME.” — Arger Jorn to the Guggenheim (from Charles Molesworth’s Art & Ideas column on the Danish artist in the forthcoming Salmagundi)
When you hand in a CV (at a language school you worked for before, and which a friend works at) and they just give you a blank look and disparage your qualifications and say ‘If you had any specific skills…’
Like I just walked into a Jean Rhys novel very briefly.
Didn’t get a residency I went for (and didn’t get an email rejecting me? That seems a bit lazy of the organisers)
Found out that my work has once again not written me into the weekly schedule b/c I can’t work half days only full ones. Zero hour contracts are sometimes awful, even if the flexibility is nice at times.
Walked in the rain back from the gym
Finished my essay! That’s something good.
It is early yet and grim weather and there is room for improvement. I have to go apply for some jobs. Blech.
Diane, there’s something wonderful about the wifi password in the Glad Cafe.
I read here! And saw some really cool indie movies. It is the best place.
Voices of East anglia
thing I need:
A less zero-hours-contracty sort of a job so that I can afford to save money for a book tour next year (UK only, keeping my expectations down unless I suddenly have funds from other sources)
Pink Glitter by Helen McClory Grace unscrews the white lid and pulls out the dripping tiplet and applies the polish to one nail after another, then holds the drying almond surfaces up to the light….
I wrote this story about teen girl bonding and twisted magic and Vol. 1 Brooklyn very kindly published it for your Sunday perusal.