. . . working towards last year’s public exhibit I felt myself moving into a more complete way of working. I did not fully grasp what that meant but I did feel things shifting under my feet . . .

 

A month of retreat in Oxaca Mexico was the best unknowing investment for the time of change that was about to arrive. Now, in the midst of it, when anxiousness arises I can return to that quiet beach and things more easily fall away.  I lift my head and heart and find some balance.

Interesting that the show I was preparing was called . . . BALANCE POINT . . .

 

 

The large installation pieces began during the visit of an acquaintance who arrived in San Miguel for an extended stay in poor health and without sufficient financial resources. I believe he thought it would all be magically better once he arrived. I tried my best to carry this unexpected weight which provoked feelings I did not recall having felt before; that of someone landing on top of me, heavy and unmovable, a vague sense of suffocation and at times, panic. He, on the other hand, seemed to float by unaware of causing any stress or discomfort. This circumstance grew to resonate throughout my personal life until I decided to push back . . .

then for a while    . . .   I    became    the    one    f l o a t i n g    . . .

 

. . . my world turned inside out and upside down. Things became so alive it was imperative that I learn to let go literally and emotionally.

and to recall sunrise on the beach . . .

 

 

Now about half the way through this challenging time I have been sorting what is still on top of me including the stuff of a relationship I let go of.

Standing knee deep in the piles I realize there is no simple exit door; those doors have been taken and I am left to do the work of digging myself and my soul out.

I aim to lighten the load of responsibility; of spaces and places, of things I have collected for security and been so happy to have until now, and  then   c r e a t e   again.

 

 

Minding the noise and confusion, forgiving the anger and sadness . . . it will take  t i m e but I will emerge as soon as I can . . . and then there will be tales of new work to tell . . .