This photo was taken as part of a Boxing Day game played by my family this year. We hadn’t been able to do it the year before because of illness, but this year I had a chance to see my concept in reality.
I do a relatively creative job. It’s exhilarating being asked to call upon creative ideas at a pinch, sometimes (if I’m very lucky) being able to mull on ideas and simmer for taste. But what is that worth?
My last post had me thinking. I’m not a cricketer (well, actually I would like to think I could have been a contender… but that’s by the by) nor am I in an industry that rewards time and effort put into a job with the proportional spend of the corporate sector. So how do I know what I am worth?
When all that greets you of a morning is another round of stress and worry, followed by London-rent bill worries and then the extortionate cost TFL lays on you for trying to keep the rent bill down… it makes a cold train platform and a colder atmosphere from fellow commuters that much harder to bear.
I have been trying to read Brian McLaren’s book, but I feel patronised. He’s a brilliant writer and I know that if I hadn’t already spent three years studying theology, what he is explaining would be that much more profound. I feel caught between a temptation to skip ahead, the feeling of cheating, and the feeling of being cheated.