The Between Time
Except for these boots, I haven’t painted in over a month. That’s quite a dry spell for someone who usually paints at least a little bit every day and a lot most days. I’m not too worried about it yet; I know that late winter is a low energy time for me and my creativity often hibernates in February. If I still can’t paint by the end of March, then I’ll start to panic.
I think of this part of the year as a fallow time, when the harvest is done and the fields lie sleeping until it’s time for spring planting. Sometimes I stretch the metaphor and rotate my crops by, say, making little heads with air dry clay
or doing some indigo dyeing.
But sometimes, I just don’t “make”. This month, I’ve tidied the studio (sort of) and had a collector visit there, but I’ve not made any art. Gosh, I haven’t even written here!
I have done a bunch of the tedious grunt work of art making though; wrapping and shipping sold work, framing new work for an upcoming show, and planning for next year.
I suppose I am in a liminal space, a “between times”. I came home from a wonderfully productive residency in France, where I was fortunate enough to have finished the work I need for a solo show that opens this month. Consequently, I’ve not had to work frantically (which is what usually happens) during these few weeks before the show, but I don’t feel like I can start new work before I get that show hung and under way. The idea of that feels like splitting my energy somehow.
I am taking this time to try to be more comfortable with not being productive; to let it settle in that my value is not based on how hard I work, or how much work I make, and just be OK with being. (I have about 10 more days of being “between”. Wish me luck!)
And if you happen to be in the Wilmington, NC area between March 22 and April 20 and would like to see “Floral Fusion”, give me a shout and we can meet at the gallery!