I think I’ve written here in the past about how the aftermath of a show is for me in the studio. In the week or so after a show opens there is generally a little letdown, the result of a sudden loss of the energy that accumulates from the adrenaline and anxiety in the build up to the opening. I usually mope in a way, floundering around for several days trying to refocus and regain my bearings, to find some point in which to direct my energy.
It’s often a frustrating time even while the show still hangs and does well. I sometimes get a little lost in those moments where the very act of painting becomes absolutely abstract and foreign in nature to me. The purpose that just a week ago seemed so apparent now has dissolved and I find myself questioning everything– my abilities, the purpose and direction of my work and so on. Those particular moments weigh heavily on me.
As I said, it’s a frustrating time. Fortunately, I know from times before that this was coming and will pass. It’s part of the process, part of who I am, If, as Shakespeare says, all the world’s a stage and we’re all merely players, then this is simply part of the makeup of the character I portray in this play. It’s maybe the only role for which I am truly suited by nature and ability.
And maybe that’s the thing I need to remember in these frustrating days; that this is the role that I best play, that this is the role that was written specifically for me.
That kind of ties in with the painting at the top, Center Stage, which is part of the Home+Land show at the West End Gallery. We are all the main characters in our own plays and we need to be be willing to play the part with conviction, to embrace the role that is written for us. When you are on that stage, let your light shine.
And that brings us, in a sneaky manner, to this week’s Sunday morning music. I’m going with one of my favorites, Neko Case, and her rousing version of the children’s gospel classic, This Little Light of Mine. Gets the day started with a kick and blows away those frustrations. So, enjoy, have a great day and let that light shine.
Redtree Times 
Gary,
The “Little Light” in you also shines brightly in the homes and lives of the hundreds of collectors of your work, as well as those who just may visit the gallery to view your work. Your paintings brighten up all of our days and will continue to do so for many years. Be confident that what you do has a huge impact on the owners (and viewers) of your work. They are drawn to your paintings for a variety of reasons, many of them because they give comfort, hope, and peace-especially if they have gone through hard times or have suffered a loss. Take heart, rest from all of your hard work, then move forward to continue with what you do best-brighten up our world.
With love and gratitude,
Lin
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Thank you, Lin. That was an unexpected kindness that means a very lot to me.
On Sun, Jul 26, 2015 at 9:52 AM, Redtree Times wrote:
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I think I’ve mentioned before that, to one degree or another, this is a normal human response. When I finish a boat, or a blog post, or any project that has required focus, energy, and a certain amount of creativity, there’s real emotion involved with its completion. Sometimes, there’s even regret that it’s done, just because the involvement was so satisfying!
In that case, there’s only one thing to do: take a breath, sit back, perhaps have a glass of wine, and then — begin again!