It isn't easy working on putting together a large show, but it is fun. Seeing how the finished pieces will fit together, finalizing prints. You learn a lot;
about yourself, about your work style, about your emotional breaking point…
I learned that I can fit full size sheets of matt board in my car and that they can lay flat. I can also fit at least 8 frames in there at the same time, though it doesn't leave any room for a passenger.
It does get stressful though. It isn't easy as spring is being wonderful and spring like to stay inside a tiny studio where you can't even take a full step without stepping on something.
I try and get out and play with cameras a bit when I'm feeling really down. Sometimes even that is hard though.
Will still have our home on the market to sell. It has been awhile, but not as long as the average 'on market' time for a place in our area. Until then, we keep only what we need at home, and the things we need that are most important are carried with every day so those things aren't at home when someone comes to look. That in a way makes you feel a bit like a turtle: no real home, just various places you go and set your stuff down at.
I try to get outside and forget about it. I biked to my studio today, one large backpack and a camera bag strapped to my back. Thankfully the ride to my studio is mostly downhill.
It was during that ride that I realized I had 5 cameras with me. A bit too many, but where would I leave one?
You want things close in case you need them…
This morning my husband pulled a bucket out of our kitchen cupboard. It was one I have used to let bread dough raise in, though it has been awhile since I have made that bread. He asked me if we really needed it in there, that it was taking up space.
He looked at me, very puzzled, asking if the bucket was really possibly that important to me…
I cried harder. It isn't the bucket (no, the bucket really isn't that important), it is the feeling that I have no where that is truly my place to 'be'. To spread out the contents of my show, to leave a camera, knowing it will be there when I need it, and assessable at all times, and that I won't have to make a special trip in the car to go and get it. It is the physical exhaustion of taking things with you every morning.
This past weekend was Art-a-Whirl. It is huge, and fun, and filled with so many creative people, it is hard not to be inspired. I had work in a photography group show that opened Friday night, and had a wonderful time at the reception, talking to visitors, friends, and family who came to see it. Saturday and Sunday I spent the day outside in a tent with my husband and a friend, selling creative things. The ladies at Dabble were selling my photography, so I didn't bring any of that with. Just pottery and some treasures made by friends. It is enjoyable sharing a booth with friends. I realized though I was selling more of 'other people's creative work' than my own. It made me sad. I hadn't bothered to bring any of my photography with – any why not?? Time I suppose. I love working on making and selling pottery with my dad, but at the same time, there is so much more I want to do with the pottery I am creating, that it is hard to see my pieces as 'finished' or even really that 'good'. So I sell more of my dad's work, which is pretty cool, but again, it isn't mine. The festival was fun, but exhausting.
So now we are nearing the end of May. I have a print I am donating that is due in a couple weeks, I need to decide what image will go on the postcard for my show in September (any suggestions would be awesome!), and I am feeling lost, and homeless, and am biking around the city with 5 cameras and a laptop strapped to my back (and at least 3 cups of coffee in my system).
I do believe this little freak out session is right about on schedule.
Hold on, it will be a bumpy ride!
Until next time,