Monday, October 02, 2006
My assistant has only been with me for less than a week, but already I notice a difference in having two pairs of hands. She helps me with everything except my creative work and correspondence.Today, as I painted, then later wrote to or spoke with a handful of collectors, she set about organising my office and the smaller of my studios. It's an ugly job but someone had to do it. My spaces are about as tidy as a teenager's bedroom. Everything is stacked in cheap storage boxes, a hangover from the times when I had no money. My boyfriend sourced a fabulous aluminium horizontal plan cabinet for my works on paper – it will be my first proper piece of studio storage – and tomorrow, we're buying lolly-coloured filing cabinets for administration paperwork and personal archives.The assistant also went to the supermarket and stocked up on groceries for both studios. I often forget to eat when I'm working. I sometimes feel like there is too little time to stop. She quizzed me about the foods I like, and noted down everything in a red hardcover notebook I bought her. She's promised my boyfriend to rat me out if I don't care of myself.I'm still getting used to having another person around. The assitant has an Asian respect for my personal space, and although I wonder if I am sometimes too intense, or chaotic, or if my attention to detail might drive her nuts, she appears to take everything in her stride. That quality alone ensures her job security.