Tomorrow I have my first sole artist showing in over 10 years, I’ve been working for this for 2 years.
Tomorrow I will be at the Galesburg Art Center for a sole artist Pop Up Sale. I’ll have threads, fabrics and quilts all on sale for the day. Out in public.
Sometimes your art is your life. Sometimes your life is your art. I’ve had many people tell me they weren’t an artist, or that they no longer could do their art. I did not understand that when I was younger. I leapt from one project to another, I lived and breathed dye and thread.
But it changed. At one point I was teaching more than I was showing. And that was an obsession too. I opened as many good doors as I could for the people in my classes. Demoed daily on unfamiliar machines. Learned to help people find their way to do what they were working towards.
And then it changed. There weren’t the same opportunities. The teaching slowed. And the passion for my work was gone. I sank into the sunset, learned to knit and crochet, Dealt with my far too worn knees.
It got kind of grim. There are times when your art is your life. But when it isn’t, you really do have to make your life an art. Find ways to feed your eye. Ways to make your heart beat. Allow things to go fallow, I wrote three books, which I believe have probably annoyed everyone who read them. Raised a garden and some neighbor kids. Kept a pack of greyhounds. And I pretty much stopped quilting.
That was when Don came into my life. I’ve never been a believer in love in terms of a noun. I believe it as a verb. It’s not a thing, that you own. It’s actions made on choice. It was an astonishment.
I knew Don at college. But I don’t think either of us knew each other at all. He stood by me as I got my knees fixed. Three knees later, he gave me his home as a studio. And came with me every day as I worked on one piece after another. He opened doors for me I thought were shut forever. I don’t have words for it, but thank you is a start.
When I announced this show, someone posted on the list that she hadn’t heard from me in years and she thought I was retired. I wrote her back that I hadn’t died yet.
It’s changed. I’m in that place where I can’t stop working. I’m on fire. There are resurrections. I’m still here.
I don’t remember who made the post. But I have some hopes for her.
I hope she has a passion that lights her life.
I hope that when her life changes, as life does, she finds good things that heal her heart. I hope she understands that she is a human being and not a human doing. That we all have times when we can produce things and times when we cannot.That there are ways back, not to where we were but to what is next.
I hope she gets a resurrection too.
Tomorrow, August 27th, I’ll be at the Galesburg Art Center, 341 East Main Street, in Galesburg, IL from 9:00 to 3:00. I desperately need to sell some things. I’m out of dye, steam a seam, fabric and steam. But being out of things means I working as hard as I can. I am so grateful. To be able again.
