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Hello, friends. I love Mondays. I love Mondays because they're the one day each week that I can spend in my studio from beginning to end. The one day I've carved out in my life to focus on my art in whatever shape and form it might be taking. Don't get me wrong, I love my day job. I feel grateful for smart, creative colleagues, and for working in an arts organization with a gallery, theater, and concert series. But I love Mondays even more! I love the ritual that comes with having one day a week to focus on my art. And how that inspires pockets of time throughout the week to see projects through from Monday to Monday.
So, today is Monday and this morning I drove into San Francisco early to set-up in a cafe and write this darn exhibition proposal that I've been pushing around for a couple of weeks now. It's only a "darn" exhibition proposal because I had to push through the block of writing it and get to the other side of having written it. It's only "darn" because I'm thrilled by it and very enlivened by it and also very challenged by it. So, today I finally have a finished draft. Hooray! And I will escort my little package of writing, work samples, and sketches into the gallery office this week. Oh, heart!
Also, I installed the N:AperTURE show into a new space this afternoon. The Nature/ Aperture show is hanging in the lobby at Theater Artaud in San Francisco for a dance performance this weekend. It's funny to me that this is the second time I've hung that show in a performance space with a gallery in the lobby. It makes me giggle a bit--I always seem to find that "between" space to dwell with my work. I supposed I'm happiest there, in some ways. At the intersections of literary and visual art, or at the intersections of visual art and performance, or at the intersections of craft-making and artmaking. Yes, I like it there very much.
And yet, I want to keep pushing each art-part closer and closer towards the other. To keep stretching myself to cross boundaries and tolerate questions and discomforts and all sorts of "But what kind of art is this, really?" until it just is what it is. Period! Until one technique, or thought, or question fuses itself completely with another and they create a new loving home. Until I can firmly say, "Yes, this is poetry but it looks like fiction. Yes, this is a fine art installation but it looks like a dressmaking shop. Yes, this is a photograph but it looks like graphic design. Yes, this is a gallery exhibition but we are standing in the lobby of a theater." In other words, I'm aiming for that moment of, "Yes, yes, yes!"


























