Sitting in the studio on the past two nights I have been confronted by a visitor whose arrival I take as a sign of things to come. On each occasion I have noticed one of the biggest spiders I have ever seen. On the first occasion I spotted her I actually thought at first that it might be a mouse …. yes, that big.* Spiders always appear in the house in September, and I have always considered them to be the first harbingers of winter.
I have not been able to separate this experience from a wider sense that things are closing in and even shutting down. Perhaps this is a result of my growing awareness of the ageing process. Possibly it is just a consequence of my current frustration at my lack of artistic productivity. I believe also that I am experiencing a rather belated and accumulated feeling of the burden of our prolonged restriction because of the current pandemic. The horizon has been occupied too much and for far too long by images of what is not possible, rather than of those things which are possible. For a good part of the time these days I just feel sad.
All kinds of things contribute to this state. The short-term (and totally mysterious) failure of my web-site hasn’t done anything to help. We went climbing yesterday at a delightful venue up in the Cleveland Hills, known as the Wainstones. Activity was restricted by the closing in of the weather, so that the moisture on the rocks compelled us to lower our ambitions, and I was really quite wet by the time we got back to the car.
I am hopeful that this state of depression will be changed in the coming week. My wife and I will be taking a holiday in Wales. In the past I have found various “art retreats” to be remarkably stimulating, and I am hopeful that perhaps there will be a similar response on this occasion.
*”Her” because I understand that female spiders are much larger than the males of the same species. At least, I hope it was female. If not, I wonder what on earth is in store when the female does turn up!