I am off this morning to pack up my art from the art show, where because of COVID capacity numbers, no artists were in attendance, just their art. It was strange to receive texts and messages throughout the weekend asking, “Are you here? We are? Where are you?”
Back at home, I worked in my studio. Not creating art. Creating the space, or rather ‘re-imagining’ it.
Two years ago, when my daughter and her partner bought a bungalow and began to renovate it, I became the owner of two solid wood closet doors.
Last year, when we gave a leather couch to a friend for his lodge, one of the doors was used as a solid surface for transport. The lodge is closed in the winter so the door stayed tucked away in storage until our friend went to open up the lodge this past week.
Last week, when I got the door back, I decided it was time to do what I had always intended to do with the doors, transform them into tables for my studio. I’d been using two of those long plastic tables with the fold out metal legs — they worked well, but added no esthetic value to my studio.
It was time for beauty to supersede function.
Over the weekend, I attached the legs I’d bought and re-organized. I also hung the beauty art quilt tapestry that my friend Jane gave me. Bonus.
I LOVE it all. The process of re-imagining. The attaching the legs to the closet doors. The cleaning and organizing. The hanging my tapestry. The feeling of calm that my studio embodies.
This morning, as Beau and I went for our early morning walk, I was thinking about the process of getting ready for the art show and how the ‘knowing’ I had to create for it had sat at the back of my mind every single day for months. No matter what I was doing, there was always the thought “I need to be doing’ simmering away on a back burner.
This morning, that though was gone. Poof! Vanished.
I won’t know until later how I did at the show, though I know a couple of pieces sold, which is lovely.
What I do know is that not being there was strange. Kind of otherworldly almost.
And I know it’s just a case of it being ‘different’ than how I’ve done shows before. Not bad. Not good. Different.
In that ‘different’ is the opportunity to assess what I want.
Like the door that became a table when it returned, when my unsold art comes home, I can decide what next.
Do I re-imagine my online store? Do I hold an art show of my own? Do I….
Lots of options. Lots of opportunity.
All mine to explore.
And, like the sparrows who are transforming the robin’s now empty nest outside my studio doors into a nest of their own, I get to re-imagine what was into something new and wonderful and inspiring just for me… What a lovely opportunity. What a wonderful day!