the crack of light before the door flings open

sometimes i love this time where you get the feeling that the world is your oyster, or clam, or any other edible bivavle. there are so many possibilities, you are full of ideas and it seems that there are endless opportunities to do what you need to do. this week has been one of those weeks.
i've been putting on the finishing touches to my platform application to do my entropy piece.
i've had an offer of help by a curator for another gallery, which i'm going to pursue to hopefully do a site-specific piece in.
i've been in conversation with yet another gallery about possibly touring liminal personae later in the year.
and
i participated in a round table discussion with Sarah Thelwall - an amazing woman who is instrumental in researching the art markets in the UK. she was really interested in a conversation i'd had with friends about whether we were 'commercial gallery' types or 'museum' types (as a sweeping generalisation) and that point at which artists make that decision between churning out work and actually making a living, or being poor for another 10 or 12 years and ending up with (hopefully) recognition on a wider scale. [i don't know whether my work is actually any good, but i can safely say i'm not commercial gallery fodder yet - just in case you were wondering which side of the fence i placed myself.]
and I've started making plans for my trip to the UK next year.

othertimes i hate this time when you get the feeling that the world is a yawning chasm of endless possibilities and that all this excitement may just end up in a bunch of 'thanks but no thanks' letters clogging up your concertina file.