Interim (and out)

It is of course a strange time. I can appear to have crawled out from under the initial impact of Chance’s death: I get things done, but I am definitely not completely present yet. Some of the grief is still raw. Most is simply missing him, a constant ache. It is the same for Paul and Lupe as we slowly begin to mend our pack, tentatively creating the new pattern.


I will miss this lovely old weathered wood.

Movement seems to be what we all need. It’s good. Lupe wants to walk and walk and walk when we go out. I’m immersed in a new round of p/t. Indoors, we carry on with heavy cleaning, and outdoors we’ve cleared the way for builders; the back deck and front stairs have gotten too rickety and are being replaced, so we’ve radically chopped two tall, dense thickets of dogwood and moved everything that’s stored under the deck. We got the house plants in and the last of the garden harvested before an early freeze. I got winter clothes out, summer clothes put away, and so on. Tiring physical work that leaves the mind relatively free to wander where it needs to go: that’s good.

During the darkest time, I completed these…


…and sent them off. They’re collectively titled Liminal (Stage One) and they’ll be on view in Exceptional, which opens tomorrow.

Mostly I’m writing to say that Words | Matter is excellent, excellent, excellent. I got to see the completed library for the first time on the 6th, when there was a surprisingly large turnout for the Caxton Club event. On the 14th, I spent the afternoon looking and reading and touching, and then having light fun conversation with a few nice folks who were there, forgetting to even take out the camera. It was the best possible way to ease into the evening, when I got my fervent wish and had a lovely small talk with just seven people. It was like the ‘artist’s talk’ version of this past summer’s porch class: intimate, calm, good. I brought haptic-language book things and we read with our hands. As it was the day was perfect, surrounded by books to see and touch, pulling me gently and quietly into the infinite ways that books can cloak you in themselves. At the same time it was reminiscent of long lovely afternoons in the library as a child, with a comfortable dose of neighborhood coffee shop. If you are in town, it can do all that for you, too. Go!

Braithewaite Gallery / Southern Utah Museum of Art has published a video of the entire ABC exhibition here.


My Ragdale residency begins on Monday, so we’re steadily, quietly getting our tasks to a stopping point while I’m prepping materials and packing. I’m so looking forward to stepping out of time, onto the prairie, into the studio, and into the boundless embrace of that touchstone place.

2 thoughts on “Interim (and out)

  1. this is so beautiful, melissa, days like the this are blessed, and so healing. i think of you (and aimee) everytime i pass a field where the milkweed is colonizing the former hayfield, the pods bursting with delicious white stars. hugs to you and yay for ragdale.

  2. thanks for all of the iris and beater help lately. i am SO GLAD for ragdale after all of these huge changes and shifts and seasons and grief you have been going through. not that anything changes, but the best of the best comes to the forefront. harvested milkweed today and thought of you!

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