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The past week had me wrapping up self-assigned Inktober “duties” (a pair of illustrations) and making some decent progress on the webcomic, as well as preparing to make both Halloween get-togethers to which I’d been invited (the latter a pleasant surprise as I didn’t think I’d get off work early enough; I got to see old friends I hadn’t seen in years, some of whom had seen and enjoyed my stuff on Instagram). In the midst of all this, I checked my email after a couple of days only to learn that my landlord had, after thirty years, decided to hand over the house I’ve been living in for the last five to one of the “official” property management companies in town, effective next month.
I was thrown for a loop for pretty much the rest of the weekend. On the one hand, my lease runs until August, this company was the last I dealt with before a couple of independent landlords (admittedly fifteen years ago) and I don’t remember any major problems with them, and I’d been expecting some kind of change the last year or two anyway. On the other hand, I’d expected the latter to be more along the lines of a mild rent increase or her leaving the house to one of her kids rather than this, which could come with the possibility of a substantial rent increase or possibly even non-renewal if they decide to do away with my admittedly rare situation (a tiny efficiency under 150 sq. ft., especially if they try to focus on multiple renters like so many others). So I’ve been mentally scrambling—maybe a little too early, as is my wont—to identify my options.
While the sudden (if remote) existential uncertainty is perturbing, I’ve been (maybe therapeutically) focusing more on the creative annoyances. I started drawing again (and painting at all) in this place four years ago, and my immediate urban surroundings and environment have had (I think) an invigorating effect on my work (though I’ve started to tire of them too for a number of reasons). I’m also irritated at how it potentially throws a spanner in the works for future plans. I want to throw myself into the next decade having a much better idea of what I want to do and how I do it, and doing this on a logistically stabler basis (slightly bigger place, better job) was central to the idea. Though this is still possible given one of my potential options for relocation, there are a few roadblocks to the latter that give me pause. Either way, I’ll probably be on tenterhooks until we get the email from the company detailing the new situation (and probably after, if differently, as well). This is one of many reasons today’s post isn’t focusing on rabid English Catholic arsonists of the early seventeenth century.
That said, today’s featured image sits just down the road from the then-threatened Houses of Parliament: Titian’s Bacchus and Ariadne (c. 1520-23), probably my single favorite painting of my single favorite Renaissance artist. Having helped the Athenian hero Theseus to kill the monstrous Minotaur and escape from the notorious (and original) Labyrinth of Knossos, the Cretan princess Ariadne was promptly abandoned by her new lover after a characteristically arbitrary and half-assed caution from the gods. Despairing, Ariadne was then happily surprised by the god Dionysos, who not only became her new lover but also immortalized her as a constellation, the picturesque Corona Borealis (just visible in the upper left of the painting, generally visible in the Northern Hemisphere, and perhaps not least the partial setting of the godawful 1988 South African scifi “epic” Space Mutiny, now best known as one of the all-time Mystery Science Theater 3000 classics). I finally got to see Bacchus and Ariadne for myself earlier this year at the National Gallery in London, and while it wasn’t quite as impressive as it was in reproductions (maybe due to the lighting or my own exhaustion), it was still a damn fine picture and a great illustration of turning lemons into lemonade, even if it was all completely external. Here’s hoping.
How’s your work going?