The artist as a not so young woman

My back hurts because I've been making these paper-things all day, little objects that look organic, kind of like honeycombs. Or a slice of a dry old bone. Or how I think that would look like. I've been huddled over the strips of paper, and my head feels funny, I'm probably high on glue too. I made three of them so far. Not really sure what to do, or how to present them. Maybe I'll fit them in cardboard boxes of some sort. Or I might leave them all open, the paper's lucent, it might look nice at a window or just with some light on it at the wall. If I keep them out of the boxes they look flimsy, kind of delicate. Which is pretty too.
That's how I spent the day. The whole day. More than eight hours, actually. That's all I'm ever doing. I really need to make some money out of it. Birger told me about this place where young designers sell their clothes and stuff. They do have an exhibitionspace too. He said I have to go and ask about the possibilities of showing my stuff there. I'll probably chicken out. Again. I'll try to photograph everything properly for the soon to be webside. At least. If they turn out good, the photographs - I'd have something to show them at that place. I can hardly bring anything in. The boxes and stuff aren't all that handy. My stuff is voluminous...