Writing is an uncertain business. I often think that the reason writers do it, and persist in it, must be pretty deep-seated and complicated. Writing fiction particularly can be an arduous process with little extrinsic reward if it's never picked up by a publisher. No publisher liked Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance enough to take it on 121 times, and still Pirsig persisted with it. Sometimes I look at my own self from the outside and shake my head. Sometimes it seems nuts to keep doing something that often has no tangible reward, for which there are, most often, no guarantees.
Worker's Day today. The streets are almost empty on the way to Newtown. The Bus Factory's quiet, just Security around today, but the light is great, the day is bright and Unity Gallery is ready to be transformed. There are still two days until Thursday's opening, but watching Robyn brandishing a drill and beginning her magic is inspirational. Here are some photos...