My first show here in New Jersey is really coming together. My house is a tornado of creative energy–paper laying out on the floor ready to become sculpture, clay objects drying on the dining room hutch, the making of another piece sprawling comfortably across the top of the entry way table. Somehow I’ve managed to involve every piece of furniture in our house into supporting my creative acts.
My car is full of tacks, tape, and fliers. My email inbox is full of messages back and forth from artists participating in the show with me. The door step is home to works sent to me from all over the country. My telephone has the local newspaper on speed dial, and even my kitchen table bears more artwork than food this week.
I am working on a show.
I love it; when I was younger, I used to love the way the art work takes over. Now, as an artist mom/wife/neighbor, I love that the artwork only takes over when I want it to. Yes, that’s right, I loaded the dishwasher this morning. I cooked dinner last night. Finally–being passionate without being obsequious. It feels so good–the final push before the opening night, the last details to take care of, the goal just a week away.
This is the same feeling I used to have when I would join my friends and go sail boat racing. It’s like the last moments before rounding a mark and throwing up the spinnaker. There is shouting and commotion (well, at least on our boat), lines seem to be everywhere, everyone hops into action, and focusing on anything but your own specific job is impossible. Then, out of the jumble of activity and movement and mess, up rushes the giant spinnaker, and with one giant, satisfying ‘puff!’ the sail catches the wind, fills to capacity, and the boat surges forward in a quiet rush of wind. Everyone leans back, looks up, and even if they don’t say it audibly, there is a feeling of ‘ahhh!’ as the race continues.
Yup, that’s what it feels like the week before a show. Can’t wait for Wednesday to stare up at the sails and have my ‘ahhh’ moment.