The Pause

It’s that time again - The Pause - when the studio gets tidied, the work tables packed away, the big meeting table gets wheeled back in and the walls hang work that is complete and asks for nothing from me than quiet satisfaction.

Three solo exhibitions in two years proved challenging, enormously satisfying, and exhausting. At the end of each creative cycle, I always reflect on what I learned, what I gave, how it was received and what it cost me. There’s always the question about whether someone else could do this better, and whether there is a better way to invest in #unpickthepatriarchy. The asking always needs a strange combination of distance (from the list ticking and relentless momentum to reach a deadline) and intimacy ( searching through the bleakness for the fire in my belly).

I never know how long it will take for the next project idea to arise and settle into something real. Ideas turn up unexpectedly, flashes of images or experiences that I capture, as well as I can, in my notebook and then turn away from. There are threads of ideas and stories and data in a tangle in my mind and my notebooks. This time, I am even wondering about the thread of #unpickthepatriarchy. It feels like there is something deeper, more personal and more difficult to explore….

I keep two poems in my pocket for guidance. This one from Mary Oliver, which guides me daily.

Instructions for living a life:

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.

And this one, from William Stafford, which guides my creative practice.

The Way It Is

There's a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn't change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can't get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and suffer and get old.

Nothing you can do can stop time's unfolding.

You don't ever let go of that thread.