Changes

2008 has started with a bang. The last few weeks seemed to last about a million years. My husband interviewed for and got a new job. Hell on the manicure. (This is a joke. Ever see an artist's hands? Nail polish doesn't have a chance.) With this job change, for which we've been waiting eons, it seems that the family has breathed out a collective sigh of relief. Perhaps we've been damming up all our own energies, waiting for this outcome. And so it has begun.

Mark's schedule has changed, which means my schedule has changed. My car died in the middle of a downpour when I had no cell phone. We replaced it with a better model (car, not the cell phone). Mark traded his car in for better gas mileage for his longer commute. We aren't the kind of people to trade in cars. We run them to the ground. Last time we bought cars was 1998. Then, as now, we both bought cars in the same week. Who does that?

Both kids are heading toward some pretty intensive spring activities some of which called for auditions/tryouts and honest-to-goodness swashbuckling. More nailbiting on the part of the mother. Outwardly, I am calm and supportive. My cuticles tell a different story. The kids have even more opportunities before them. I am truly excited for them in a way that only a parent can be.

My artwork went on display at Red Raven Art Company on gallery row in Lancaster and I sold a piece to a pretty well-known citizen and art collector. (Let's just say that a local university art building is named after her.) My mind reels. Seems I now have credibility as an artist (either in the public spectrum and/or my own head. Can't decide.)

I revisited my second novel--aiming for some hefty revising. This is a major breakthrough for me. My writing was lagging behind painting the last couple of months.

Lots of swirling movement. I'm beginning to think it had to do with the rearranging of furniture. Feng Shui? How else can you explain all the changes? Somehow, this shift in reality begs for answers. But maybe I don't want to know. Maybe right now, it is just enough to send out prayers of gratitude, a few well-meaning thank you notes, and accept that we have been laying the groundwork for these happenings over the period of some seemingly stagnant months.

Labyrinth lure

Next on my list of December adventures was a workshop on labyrinths. These look like mazes, but they only have one path. Walking them is a meditation of sorts that helps align your chakras and balance the hemispheres in your brain. Labyrinths often have a symmetry and a mathematical proportions that act on the brain on an unconscious and decidedly non-verbal level. Often this is referred to as sacred geometry. Labyrinths that use this sacred geometry have have been found across cultures and religions including Christian, Ancient Greek, and Native American traditions. They are like mandalas in that they are used for meditation and have perimeters and a point of focus--all of which work on our psyches in specific ways. Many labyrinths were supposed to have mystical powers and therefore fell out of favor during the Age of Reason. But in this age of disconnect, labyrinths are making a resurgence in places like the National Cathedral in Washington D.C., among other places such as hospital grounds--where they can be used for healing properties.
I have studied labyrinths and the metaphor of the spiral for years and walked a half-dozen different labyrinths, not to mention used the symbology in my art and writing. Yesterday's walk was a meditation on trust. That is one of the metaphors--trusting that the curving path would bring a person to center even on the times when the path seemed to be leading away from its heart. I feel that way about my artistic journey--as though, in my art and writing, I am moving away from the direction I need to be, but I need to trust the process. The vision I received in this particular walk was that of seeds. I need to plant my seeds and not worry about the harvest. Trust that the path I am on will bring me to the point I need to be.
Helpful labyrinth links:
Mid-Atlantic Geomancy
Worldwide Labyrinth locator

Halloween and beyond

I want to be Guerilla Girl. This is silly to say for two reasons: Guerilla Girls are anonymous and the larger wish is that there is no need for Guerilla Girls.

Art show

My first solo art show is up! I have never had a solo exhibit before. I don't think I have ever had a body of work like this before. It showcases about a year's worth of art: 17 pieces. I wanted to try to crank out a few more pieces but I found that I couldn't paint under pressure. What I do is more about process than product. Now that the show is in place, I am sure the flow will return. The exhibit space at Moon Dancer winery is perfect for my first venture. The atmosphere is casual, and the gold walls make my artwork pop. My canvases are finished and look complete. I am sure the addition of frames would help the work seem more "done" but at this point it is an investment just in my time and materials. I am not sure frames would help to sell the work. Buyers tend to have pieces reframed anyway when they get them into their homes. I do miss having my paintings around me. It seems odd that they have a life outside this house.

Mark asked me what my goals are for the show. Certainly I hope to sell some of the pieces. Moon Dancer winery, like most exhibit spaces, is taking their cut of the sales. I'll have to get used to that fact. I also hope to make some contacts from having my work exhibited. The winery is allowing me to have a book signing in conjunction with my art opening, so drawing new readers to my book is a goal as well.

The show will be up for October. After that, I am taking my work around to gallery owners who have expressed interest. So far, the feedback has been good. I am happy that the work is being seen as mature. It isn't as if I haven't been doing artwork my whole life, but this venture is new. As far as the industry is concerned, I am a newbie. It is scary to put myself on the line again. It feels like I just did that with my book. But with both endeavors, I have been honest with what I wanted to do. I work for myself, first and foremost. And I am pleased with the result. The artist reception is in two weeks. It is something I am going to enjoy. Whatever else, I am making connections with the outside world.

Words and wine

I started out the day by reading the first chapter of Astrid &Veronika by Linda Olsson. (I am reading a lot of first chapters now as I set out to begin a new book.) This first chapter struck me with its stark loveliness. It seemed solitary, like the act of reading itself. The character Veronika is a writer, renting a house in a remote place. (Doesn't every writer dream of being cut off from civilization in a sparely furnished house with a fireplace and nowhere to turn but inside to the words.) Anyway, I loved the line "It was time to find new words." I think I will write that in calligraphy and set it next to my computer. Has anything ever so succinctly described the writing life?

From words to wine. I am thinking of going to Moon Dancer Winery today to check out the space and prepare for my art show. It is going to be a beautiful day and the view from the winery is inspiring. I don't need the inspiration to put words or brushstrokes in my head, but I do feel the need to connect with the larger picture. Maybe from the mountain, I can look at my life with a bit more clarity. Or Claret! (A little wine humor.)

In case you were wondering, Moon Dancer Winery was on my list of places to contact by phone today. See--I would rather drive a total of an hour and a half than to make a phone call. Or maybe, I am just engaging in good old Sylvia Plath forms of avoidance.

Fear factor

I am painting again, but for the first time ever, I am doing it with a sense of urgency. Get it done before my show. Make it something saleable. I have to hang my show at Moon Dancer Winery later this month.

On Tuesday, I am going to speak with a gallery manager about my work. She will help me price it and hopefully give me insights into the local scene. I am nervous. I have accepted that my writing is finding a place in the world, but I don't know how comfortable I am putting my art out there as well. Am I crazy? What made me think I could launch a solo exhibition two months after a book release? And why would I want to? Am I really ready for the good opinions of others? It has been over 17 years since my senior thesis show at the University of Delaware. And to be honest, that was something I threw together at the last moment to satisfy my degree requirements.

I got the postcards for my October exhibit in the mail yesterday. I think they look great. I guess I need to take a breath and jump in. It will be a new learning experience for me. I just have to trust that I can handle what comes my way. And really, what is the worst thing that can happen? I am showing my paintings at my favorite winery in Pennsylvania. Crisis in the presence of a glass of Moon Dancer Meritage, a slice of Gouda, and live jazz? All life should be so difficult.