My friend has been going out with a man for three years and none of us like him – he’s deeply boring and has an awful job. She desperately wants to settle down and thinks it should be with him, even though everyone knows she’s not really being her happy, creative self. When we’ve tried to ask her about it, she gets defensive. What should we do, as her friends?

The body clock is a very powerful pull. You could plan an evening to watch a film together. I suggest the 1994 rom-com, Only You. If she is already aware that you don’t like her partner, it could be worth explaining that you want to use the evening to talk about it, because you care. Explain that you would only discuss the issue through watching the film, that one evening, and then never again.

Another way can be via tarot readings with friends who know the situation. You let the cards throw up different life possibilities, then use their written instructions to give insight. I have found this to be an invaluable resource for reflection and self-realisation. It could be that your friend is on a long, slow path to realisation, and nothing that you can do will help.

I want to make it as an artist, and I feel like networking is a big part of that, but I’m never invited to any of the right parties or events. How do I get the hot tickets?

Catsuits have always served me well. And possibly you need to learn the art of inviting yourself: I invite myself and then watch the reaction to see if I’m welcome. If the person’s face is a contorted baroque mask, then, with a twinkle in my eye, I bow out and ask to be invited next time.

I used to work at galleries, opening the beers, so that I would be near to the art-world machine. I remember once sliding across a floor to miraculously zip between
the bouncer’s legs and enter the party. The bouncer was
so impressed he just laughed. I had a great time in the VIP area. The Lycra catsuit helped me to be zippy and lawless.

I also throw parties, and in my opinion this is important to the cycle of being invited to parties. I always have an open-door policy – everyone is welcome. By hosting, you gain confidence and create your own scene. The network starts from your own hospitality.

When I first come up with an idea to do something, I feel motivated and excited to start it right away. But I’m terrible at finishing things. Most of the time, I lose confidence and abandon projects halfway through. Any tips on sticking at it?

One thing that works for me is treating yourself as an employee. Tea and lunch breaks are crucial, as is a good audiobook or the radio. I am often on my own as I never have enough cash flow in my business to employ regular staff, so I am both line manager and employee. I set myself the work and monitor how I’m doing. I come and check: Is there appropriate ventilation? Have I been to the toilet? Do I need a change of radio station... but my hands are in glue?

I invented two imaginary friends when I was very low on income after I had my baby and couldn’t work. Trudy helps me with finance and Phyllis helps me with housework. They are middle-aged and very cheerful and organised. They good-humouredly point out to me what is possible. I love them. They are not real, but they are damn cheap and damn supportive.

I am an artist in my seventies, and I am beginning to consider what I’d like to happen to all my stuff when I’m no longer here. I don’t want to burden my children with sorting through it, so I think I should start creating some sort of order. I whisper ‘archive’, but that seems awfully grand! Where to begin?

I am aware of döstädning, or Swedish death cleaning, the concept of decluttering your belongings so that you don’t burden the next generation. If only everyone was as considerate as you! I am also trying to be efficient with an archive. It’s tricky. My three piles are: destroy, recycle, keep. On a pragmatic note, there are online services that provide databases to aid the archiving of artists’ oeuvres. There are quite a few, so you can shop around.

On a recent open day at my son’s school, I realised to my horror that my eight-year-old has been passing off other children’s artwork as his own, putting his name on drawings, paintings and collages exhibiting wildly differing styles (and abilities). Is he the next Elaine Sturtevant, or simply a kleptomaniac? (I’ve addressed the issue with him and he said that his classmates ‘gave them to me’, but I don’t know what to think...) Help?

Wow, this is very impressive! I imagine he is an impresario. Can I sign up to work with him, learn from him, be supportive to his original mindset? He has already negotiated and reacted to social conditioning and rules in an extraordinary way at the age of eight. Personally, I would be proud. I have learnt from my son since he was age four.

Reader, I can feel you taking a short intake of breath, thinking: ‘OMG they are producing future monsters to cause chaos in our delicate society!’ But remember, there are meaningful texts and exhibitions dedicated to listening to children.

Why is your son so smart and able to be creative with authorship? How has he understood that intellectual property can be played with? Is it that the classroom of a child is more open to iconoclasm then the official art world? One would hope so...

^{Send your problems to tate.etc@tate.org.uk for your chance to be featured in the next issue.
Monster Chetwynd’s A Tax Haven Run By Women 2010–11 was purchased in 2017 and is currently on display at Tate Modern.}