Rains still come almost daily,
Both summer classes are full again; the space at the Morgan was only open for 24 hours. Thank you, everyone! (I like this couple o’ classes schedule, and am thinking I might try to stick to something similar from now on).
The next two shows are coming up fast; they are simultaneous, but in different close-together venues in the same city, each with very different, but efficient administrative procedures. There’s been lots of keyboard-type prep (mostly done over the past few days, but a bit more to go), then materials-ordering and crate-building and a great deal of packing and shipping are awaiting me – plus another quick trip to Cleveland at the end of the Morgan show to retrieve some of those works to ship back out.
One of the Morganite works has sold, a piece that I’ve particularly liked for many years. Its finding a home continues a trend I like very, very much: a car repair estimate came in, and caused a momentary sinking feeling, then the very next e-mail I opened contained the news of the sale, telling me I had it covered (and then some). That’s happened a few times so far this year. It feels a bit like a reward to get to that point, however long it lasts.
but they don’t stay. The prairie winds blow them out to Lake Michigan; the Windy City does its thing.
There’s something else I like very much about this year: the fact that the invitational shows are happening, and the work goes out, is seen, and has conversations with its viewers, but I don’t. Even though I’m toying with the idea of a quick trip for these (it’s not often – if ever – I’ve had simultaneous shows in another city), the opening reception schmooze has never, ever been a favorite activity of mine, even well before my deafness dived to its current level. It may go back to my grad student days, when I worked in the school’s galleries. We’d get everything ready, grab some food and drink for ourselves, then throw open the doors to a packed hallway and ravenous hoards of art students would rush in, head straight for and denude the food tables like locusts, then leave. It got a little better during the years I ran departmental exhibitions, and/ or had to attend everything in order to keep my job, but receptions are never about the work. If it’s a ‘good opening’ you can’t even see it. If I’m seeing a friend’s show, or another artist or artists I admire, I prefer to go a few days later when I can actually spend time seeing, experiencing. If it’s my own opening, well: I believe the work is (and should be) very much more interesting than I am (or want to be). So, this year suits me; suits me fine.
Tomorrow, time off to build a trellis in the garden. That suits me, too. And: