Working Nine To Five (well, sometimes)

I’m working!

I have been back in the capital a while now, and a couple of weeks ago decided I’d aim for a three day working week, just as I had been doing a few months ago in Campbeltown. 

Some think it’s lame, lazy even, but if I’m to try and hold onto what little is left of my sabbatical, it seems worth a try - at least whilst there is still some folding in the bank.

Last week, my three days in the office were spent setting up my machine and getting it to run right. It’s slightly older than the laptop I’ve been using so I had to retune my head a little. I also spent some time putting feelers out, contacting old colleagues, and generally looking for work.

LinkedIn, for the unaccustomed, is a fabulous website rather like Facebook but for professional contacts. You can hunt down old work contacts and see where they work these days, as well as target new ones who might be able to help you in some way. In return, you too become targeted by individuals who might be looking for your particular skill-set, or to make contact with someone you know. I think they call it ‘networking’. 

References from various key working relationships help sell your offer, both those that you hold, along with those that you write for others.

A combination of other sites and blogs as well as keeping my own up to date, have helped get my ball rolling, and very quickly at that.

By the end of the week, it seemed I’d had a spot of luck.

Firstly, out of the blue, an email from a magazine looking for someone to undertake a rolling illustration commission for a new publication - 13 issues a year.

The money isn’t great, but the work is - exactly the calibre I’ve been gearing myself towards with my personal illustration work! It seems all that hard work could be paying off, and I’ve yet to find out how they discovered me. I’ve been so busy in fact that I’m currently not really paying attention to the hunt for more work - the biggest error in business. 

That’ll come in time though.

The other interesting potential project around the corner is one for a couple of entrepreneurs who need help building their brand - the other calibre of work that is right up my street - mainly because I’m well practiced in this line of work. I approached them after seeing a call for input, and they seem interested in speaking to me.

It’s of huge personal interest too, so fingers crossed, the planned meeting in a few days turns it into something more solid.

So this week has been spent basically working on the commission to agree direction, and pulling a presentation together for the other guys. 

For the latter, I spent the best part of yesterday at the all new Canada Water Library, a fantastic resource that is well used by the community. 

Not only is the architecture amazingly cool, but the facilities inside are cutting edge!

I sat up in the gods of the building, overlooking Twinkle and Rhettstar in the toddler group far below, working away with a great coffee and slice of chocolate fudge-cake at a workstation with wifi and a power outlet along with some trendy student types.

I don’t have to stress about setting the alarm, I can avoid the rush hour, I’ve yet to work late (although I do work through lunch often to balance the time out), I can choose to work around the corner or go into the office, or indeed just take the day off without having to sign a form or beg to the boss (although technically, I guess I do beg the real boss - Twinkle)

I'm not entirely sure I can claim to be 'on sabbatical' any more, but if I can continue to pull this gig off, I think I might have found the perfect work / life balance!

London Calling

Finally, I'm in London again.

I've been away for five years. There is a fantastic vibe here I'd forgotten all about, but more than this, London is now new and improved!

It's been quite a year in London during my absence. The Queen (gawd bless her) has had her Diamond Jubilee, and the London Olympics have only just finished too.

And whilst I sadly missed the celebrations, there is still an air of happiness on the streets. People smile now, and god forbid, even the staff on the London Underground walk and talk with a new found spark of liveliness.

It's a London I like!

The coffee is good (so long as I remember to ask for a 'single shot Latte') as is the food and because of a lack of panic to get to work, the Underground now seems actually quite bearable in the mornings. My Oyster Card, framed in 2007 and underscored with the letters 'R.I.P.' has been reinstated as my ticket to ride (now with a funky Buckingham Palace illustration!), and I'm renting a desk 4 stops from home, in Waterloo, just a stones throw from Big Ben, London Bridge, and of course, the River Thames.

Working once again in a real office, with real people wasn't in the plan. Well, certainly not yet, but needs must, and our tiny flat here means there is no room for any form of setup at home now that we have a toddler. But the office is very close, and it does start to separate the two things - work and home - meaning I can start to treat my illustration work as 'work' and not simply play.

I feel like a grown up again - but not one who has returned to his old working life in London - a more mature adult who is starting out for the first time on a new mission. It's all fresh again. No one is telling me off for not working fast enough, no one is feeding me bullshit about why I can't have a better pay deal. I'm finally my own boss.

It's all on my shoulders now. No one to blame for it failing but myself.

Shit. What on Gods earth am I doing? I have mouths to feed! I'm too old to be pissing the family money up the wall on this daft sabbatical aren't I?

Well, you know what, life is too short. I learnt that lesson many years ago, and have recently been reminded of that fact again. So the party must continue, at least for now. The fear of money alone will keep me kicking like an enraged bull at a rodeo.

Yesterday, I started drawing again, catching up on last weeks Illustration Friday, and I now have in my possession what we shipped 9 months ago from Australia - including my iMac, and most importantly, my toaster desk tidy to house what now seems like a huge collection of pens and pencils.

London, I think we'll stay a while.


*If you too want pictures of London's iconic landscape without the presence of thousands of tourists ruining your shots, arrive before 6am. London is at it's best at sunrise.

Pause, Play.

When I began this sabbatical, I never thought for one second it would take the route it has over the past 9 months. And the latest saga only added to the madness endured since leaving our very standard life back in Sydney.

Here’s a quick recap of the situation so far:

Italy for 5 days. Terrible weather forced us to abandon ship.

Europe for 3 weeks, waiting for divine intervention. A fabulous holiday, but hardly a sabbatical.

Mull of Kintyre for 3 months. Some success with family time and creative projects, but utter remoteness soon ground us down. An issue with our own property came to light, and we decided to return to London.

Feral Tenants refuse to leave our home, rendering us homeless, jobless, and without any clue how to fix the problem (sending in the heavies was sadly not an option).

Following our latest dilemma, I did the only thing I could think of, and appealed on Facebook to anyone who might have an empty property that our family could move into immediately. It was a huge ask.

But sometimes the planets really do align. 

Our savior came in the form of an ex-colleague from several years previous. Her mum had sadly passed away up in Edinburgh, leaving the family home of 35 years to be tied up by three exhausted siblings. There would be lots of sorting of items, and lots of re-decoration to undertake, and in return unlimited use of the house for the foreseeable future. It seemed like a completely logical solution for two very different situations, and whilst initially it felt like it might be quite an uncomfortable experience, all involved seemed to think it might work.

My sabbatical took a pause whilst we were up in Edinburgh, to allow full dedication to the challenge, but the new skills I learnt during this period have proved just as worthy as the creative ones I thought I’d be learning. 

For a few short weeks, a truly beautiful house in the very charming district of Morningside, Edinburgh became home to us, as we forged close relationships with the family involved. In what went on to become a personal and humbling experience, I'm so honored to have been able to help the three of them - we'll forever be grateful they allowed us into their very private world.

But news soon came through that the feral tenants had been served papers from the courts, and they quickly moved out of our own property. We gave the order to immediately change the locks to ensure they could not return, and three weeks later, we endured the long drive south again, returning to London to collect our new keys.

What we found inside was a filthy pigsty, uncleaned (ironic, given that our tenants were actually professional cleaners), and uncared for during their stay. After putting in a claim for their entire deposit, we set about turning the hovel back into a home, leaving no stone unturned along the way. Whilst we still have much to do, normal life can finally begin to start. 

And so, what of my sabbatical? 

Our return to London after all these months has not put a stop to my creative adventures. Whilst it will be much harder here in London, my intention is still very much to break into illustration, rather than return to full time employment. Sure, I’m bound to undertake some freelance work to pay the bills and mortgage, but as the old saying goes,  it’s not over until the fat lady sings, and she’s yet to get up on stage. 

It's time to play again.

A Week In The Life Of A Caretaker

Keeping a row of 300 year old cottages running isn’t as easy as it sounds. A row of 300 year old converted cow sheds (which is what this place actually is) is even harder.

Almost overnight I had no choice but to become a handyman, to quickly fix leaks, an a gamut of other problems that constantly spring up. Everything from no tin opener to no electric is my problem, and I have to think fast when someone knocks on the door complaining that their Kintyre retreat isn’t quite as it was sold to them.

More often than not, I’m expected to fashion a repair using what limited resources I have up here, made all the worse to by an owner who often doesn’t like buying anything other than the cheapest of equipment. My toolbox is poorly stocked with screwdrivers that bend and buckle, and a drill that struggled to drill holes in anything except plasterboard.

Painting is made tricky because of cheap brushes that shed their bristles (it’s viewed as more cost effective to buy cheap brushes and throw them away, rather than spend money on cleaning materials), and the endless supply of twenty year old paint tins with an inch or two of crusty paint in their bases doesn’t make the task any easier.

Never the less, always up for a challenge, I’ve been plodding on with tasks over the past two months, to hold up my end of the deal. And I’ve learnt to make do with what I have, often with fairly pleasing results. 

This week, I’ve:

• Built and fitted a DIY kitchen
• Removed the old kitchen to the local tip
• Laid a new lino floor
• Painted two park benches
• Painted three external windows
• Painted an interior wall
• Mowed the (extensive) grass
• De-weeded the gravel driveway
• Removed a dead Starling chick 
• Removed the tail, hind legs, and lower torso of a brown mouse

Me and my little pal build a new kitchen

Rhett takes control of the hammer

Ways to wear your own car out

Not my choice of colour!

I’ve also arranged an electrician to fix a broken hot water timer after complaints from guests that their shower was cold, and arranged a roofer to check out the leaking ceiling in another cottage. Not easy when you don’t speak fluent Scottish like the local tradesmen do. Directions to our cottages are my Achilles Heel; even Google lists our postcode as being two miles south of where it actually is.

Juggling repairs around guests being on site is all part of the challenge, made especially hard when we have a full house, as we did last week.

And keeping track of the keys isn’t easy either. I have a bunch that quite literally makes me look (and often feel) like the head jailer - this week alone I've managed to lock two German guests out of their cottage twice. I think they think I’m rifling through their things when they’re not here, but a lifetime of living in the city has brainwashed me to check doors are locked at all times, even if people have very deliberately left them unlocked. Of course, up here, the only people likely to wander past usually have four legs and a sheepskin coat on.

Generally speaking, because the place is in such disrepair, jobs can, and often do wait. If the sun is shining, or the son is crying, I tend to drop everything, and head for the nearest beach. Life, after all, is short.

The owners seems pleased with progress - I've worked my way through nearly everything on their list - and besides, I guess the real reason we’re here is to keep the place occupied, and see guests in and out.

The Grass Is Always Greener

My mum does the lottery each and every week - she always plays the same numbers, religiously watches the live draw on the Beeb, and without fail rolls her eyes and toots as her numbers fail once again to come up.

Money, she thinks, will make life so much better. If she gave me a pound every time she said ‘When I win the lottery...’ I’d be rich enough to buy her a house. And a speedboat for that matter.

Money, so they say, makes the world go round - the more you have, the easier life is.

I can vouch for this to some extent - I used to have a job that allowed us a fairly good standard of life. We had a beautiful apartment in the centre of a bustling city, went to restaurants whenever we wanted, and bought more new clothes than a family of three could ever need. I even used to have my hair cut by someone who used to massage my head for 30 minutes prior to pulling her scissors out. Life indeed was good.

So money wasn’t our problem. 

Time, I felt was the main issue, hence exchanging wealth for a clock with more hours.

Now, with all the time in the world, and nothing to spend our money on except food and diesel, logic would suggest that I’d be as happy as a pig in shit. 

But no, it’s now inspiration I crave - the one thing I don’t have here, yet the one thing I need so desperately to make it as an Illustrator. The call of the big city with its rich tapestry of inputs is very tempting compared to the endlessly boring hills of the Kintyre Peninsula. 

So, to help me work through my latest dilemma of disappointment, I now try on a daily basis to live by this fabulous quote I recently read:

If the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, maybe yours needs a little more tending

Too Good To Be True?

Rent free.

Two little words that would make most people's ears prick up in view of suddenly being a whole lot richer than they are currently. It's a bit like a free bus ride, or fiddling the electric meter. It sounds good in theory, but there must be a catch, right?

Get caught dodging a bus fare, and you'll land yourself a fine. Get caught fiddling the electric company out of your hard earned sterling, and you'll land up in prison. But what is the catch with (legally) living rent free?

Rent free is what it says it is - you simply don't pay rent. And that can save you tens of thousands of pounds each year. Often, there are other perks too, like no council tax, free phone calls, and free power. We pay for the electricity we use, and for broadband, but everything else is free.

On the upside, our arrangement offers us a life without annoying neighbours, 4 other fully furnished cottages that we can (and do) use, our own large field - great for spontaneous games of football, kite flying and the like, and endless usage of the farmland on which we're located.

But probably the biggest upside is no boss on site, essentially leaving us to our own devices practically all the time. We can work when we choose, and only work one day per week, leaving the majority of time for our own endeavours.

But surely, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

Living conditions clearly weren't ever going to be the Ritz, and we certainly didn't walk into this project thinking we'd be living like Lord and Lady of the Manor. But until you arrive at a property in view to a long term sit, you really have no idea what you're walking into, except for a few honest, or not so honest chats over Skype with the owners.

We've had chats twice now, with the people that own this place, and with Angelika in Italy. In both cases, the truth does seem to have somewhat been glossed over. It's not that there were blatant lies told, more that the honest and open truth wasn't quite told.

Because if the truth be known, the truth would probably put most people off.

So, expect the worse.

We didn't, and have been hugely disappointed since first arriving here almost exactly as we were in Italy - you'd think we'd have learned from our previous mistakes!

Constant dampness

Press once for washing up, twice for a shower. Ready in 30 minutes

1950's heating in the bedrooms

Gutter Gardening

All mod-cons

Last tested in 1997

Expect there to be shocking furniture and decor, poorly maintained interiors, windows that don't close, roofs that don't keep the rain out, peeling paint, damp, mould, rodents, poor equipment, and a general living condition you might not have been expecting.

Twinkle perfectly summed this place up after a couple of days of living here when she observed we were suddenly living like students. That's exactly what it's like - a student house, poorly furnished and extremely poorly maintained. Well, certainly that was the case in at least 3 of the houses I lived in whilst studying all those years ago.

But remember, the moral of this story is that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Ever.

So, if you want to be your own boss, and do very little work in exchange for a roof over your head (albeit a not so dry one), and importantly, you don't mind living like a scabby student, his house sitting gig might just be right up your street.

So, Mission Accomplished?

Since departing Australia more than 3 months ago, jobless, homeless and living on our savings, we've come a very long way.

It seems like forever and a day since I resigned my post at Loop, packed up my desk, and boarded that plane, and almost just as long since I shook hands with the man who sold us the car that Rhett now loves to pretend to drive on a daily basis.

But, the question on our lips is 'are we done?'.

How long will it be before this lifestyle comes to a grinding halt, and we return to the real world?

To answer that, it's simply a case of knowing if each objective has been achieved or not, or indeed if it is achievable here in the middle of nowhere.

So, here it goes:

Spend more time together
Probably our top priority. We spend every day together, and often help each other out with tasks around the house and the workplace. We all hang the washing out together, we eat each and every meal together, we play together, anytime we want. It's a bit like being The Waltons (but with only 3 of them).
Verdict:
Mission Accomplished. Life is very short, and seeing us together like this will stay with us all forever. Working all the hours God sends for the corporate monster seems like a thing of my past currently and I truly hope to hang onto at least some of what I've had in the past 3 months if and when I return to the real world.


Be More Creative
Another core reason to do this was to engage my true inner talents and turn them into a commercial success, thus stepping away from design. Whilst I always knew becoming a full time illustrator wouldn't happen in such a short space of time, I should have a feel as to whether I'm on track to succeed or not. 
But the biggest downside here in Campbeltown is the lack of inspiration - something I probably didn't even consider before we arrived. It is truly the dullest place I've ever visited, and coupled with the lack of ability to buy materials, or sit in a cool coffee shop to get the motivation levels firing on all cylinders, the creative process is proving to be somewhat harder than I've ever experienced before. 
Verdict:
Evens. I do feel like I'm getting into the swing of my true inner self, and I do scribble more often than not, but I'm frustrated on a daily basis. Gone are the days of being able to change the surroundings to stoke the flames of creativity, and I'm totally unsure currently which train I need to board to get to where I'm going. A real worry.


Don't go broke
We entered this project with a bag of cash, and we still seem to be in the black. But with nothing to spend money on here, there is a constantly nagging voice in my ear saying 'you need a treat' - which usually leads directly to the cream cake section in Tesco's. Not good for my arteries. 
Verdict:
Mission Accomplished. I'd imagine the biggest reason people don't take a sabbatical is financial, and yet with a couple of small freelance jobs along the way, we seem to be in the same financial position we were when we started back in January. Certainly we could easily keep going if it were down to cash alone.


Take a breather
After clocking up so many hours in the real world, switching off for a decent amount of time was also a key reason for doing this. As Ferris Bueller once said - Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. 
Verdict:
Well, with my last post 'The Joy Of Pottering' I think this has to be Mission Accomplished. I certainly don't currently feel the stresses and strains of life that I used to feel, and I do feel ready for the next big fix - whatever that is. Our close friend Carly said recently our that one of our biggest problems was our inability to 'relax', and I think she's right. But equally, I do seem to have become far more lazy since being here, a trait I really don't want to develop further.



Overall, the decision to take a sabbatical is one I'll never regret. It's shown me so much about how you can just give it all up and hit the road, and that when things don't go quite to plan, there's always a way. Isn't that ultimately what life is anyway?

I've learnt that you don't need huge amounts of money to keep the stress levels down, and I've also learnt just how much money I used to waste. I've learnt that children are easy if only you give them your time, and I've learnt that the most important thing in life is not work. I've learnt a huge amount, most of which I probably don't even realise yet.

I've learnt that I really do love pencils, and that I hate pens, that practice does make perfect, and that a little each day keeps you in much better shape than huge pushes followed by huge lulls. I've learnt that I like drawing people far more than animals or cars, and that I feel naked without my sketchbook or camera, even if I'm only popping into town to buy milk.

But can we continue to live like this?

Its not so much a question of 'can' - it's more 'do we want to'.

The funny thing is, I truly miss work - something I never thought I'd say. Whilst I don't miss the politics, I do miss people, and the challenges they throw up. I miss the banter, and the plastic crap all over my desk. I miss being in a city and having a home that doesn't smell of damp.

I miss much about my old life, and I'd like much of it back.

But there are also many aspects of this new life I equally don't want to lose.

Mission Accomplished? I think the mission has now changed to 'get the perfect balance'. We never had it in London, nor in Sydney, and we sure as hell don't have it here. Finding it might prove mission impossible, but I think its ultimately the next big fix.

The Joy Of Pottering

Pottering is something old people do, isn't it? It's certainly something my Mum does around her garden on spring days anyway. It's not really something I've ever considered 'getting into'.

But something has happened to me since moving to Argyll.

The property we live on is dilapidated, and carries with it such a long list of things to mend and fix that we'll never complete all tasks set. This has led us to having the mindset of a pottering old retired couple.

Yet it's a world away from the life we're used to, and I'm surprised we've adapted at all.

The main difference is in not having an objective - you just sort of do whatever takes your fancy at any given moment, without care of getting the job completed. The joy comes when you do finish something you never really set out to do it in the first place.

Top 5 potters:

Washing the car:  

Use a bucket of water rather than a hose, not to conserve water, but to waste time. It makes you do a better job, and your toddler can help. Vacuum the inside out at the same time for a true home-style valet. 

Painting: 

Just crack open a tin of the nearest paint, grab a massive brush, and exercise those arms. Don't worry about masking anything off, if you paint the grass just cut it back. Tired old fences or garage doors will look shiny and new in no time, and with little effort.

Feeding the birds:

Either buy a feeder, or make one out if an empty loo roll, covered in peanut butter and bird seed. It makes you feel good that you're helping such tiny creatures, and brings further smiles when you see them scoffing your home made treats without complaint.

Watering the flowers: 

Simply fill up the watering can, and wander around sprinkling randomly. This also encourages the planting of seeds and bulbs, thus creating a spectacular festival of colour in your garden (according to the packet anyway).

Going for a walk:

Walking round the block is something teenagers do to cause mischief, and pensioners do to prevent their joints seizing up. But wandering aimlessly is a great way to get inspired. Use this important time to think about whats really important to you. 

Pottering. Give it a try.