73 Hours


The thriving (and newly mulched) kozo garden at the Morgan, wearing that fresh clean June green. Beautiful.

In the past 73 hours before beginning to write this, I have: shipped out 26 pieces that comprise three larger works (it was a twelve hour day before, carefully packaging fifteen of them that have never been shipped before), driven to Cleveland to pick up more work (a flying 47 and ¾ hour trip from my front door back to it), made a morning rush-hour run to retrieve work from ZIA, and packed and shipped out 42 more pieces that make up seven separate works. Here’s a nice brief advance notice of what the packing and shipping is for (which shed some light on curatorial curiosity I had). Tonight, I am happily having a small thud, the palpable relief of getting the work (almost) all out in decent time.


After a great breakfast, a sweet short morning walk to Smith Farms, complete with milkweed.


A friend’s lovely house and huge studio behind: hometown is having her come out to the second floor porch to say hi when she saw us passing.

Running to Cleveland was not at all exhausting, it was strengthening, calming and heartening (and a few times, almost teary on my part) because of the good people I saw (and even a couple I missed due to the pace) and the gentle pouring out of support amid the laughter and good talk that is what, well: going home is.  I didn’t even realize how much I needed that until it happened, and oh, I thank you all.


Big Ass paper was happening at the Morgan: Julie (at left) and all the great interns and staff.


Tom and Aimee joined in.


Rain threatened, but (probably impressed with the paper) held off for The Drying.


Oh, the Morgan of Cleveland, Oh


(There are always unexpected ideas there: tartan felts!  I’m sure I still have a worn out kilt here).

Tomorrow, we learn a great deal about what the next few months will hold for us at home, and that will bring another sort of relief: paths to follow. I’m so glad my own path took me where it did this week.


And a new young kozo plant and a four-leaf clover followed me home: even more well-being came with them. I am a very lucky woman.