Dawn of Memory– At West End Gallery
I have never described, even in the diary, the act of self-murder which takes place after my being with people. A sense of shame for the most trivial defect, lack, slip, error, for every statement made, or for my silence, for being too gay or too serious, for not being earthy enough, or for being too passionate, for not being free, or being too impulsive, for not being myself or being too much so.
― Anaïs Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin
Coming across the passage above from the diary of Anais Nin, I recognized very much the same feelings that I have described here many times before after attending openings and gallery talks. A kind of mental autopsy takes place much like the one she details above.
For me, this feeling also extends to writing this blog at times, especially during the period before openings and talks when my focus is on promoting the event and my work. By the time the event takes place, I am mentally drained, exhausted from showing my own work and reading my own words about it.
Even knowing that it has provided a valuable service for my work, it just seems too much when I get to that point. It is a much more difficult and draining task than creating the actual work.
And that’s how it is at this moment. It’s time for a short break from this public diary. It might be a week or two or even a month. Or two. There’s no real plan. It’s kind of like my work, done by the feel of it, so who knows?
But I will be back. This open conversation has been going on for over 15 years now and it’s become part of my daily routine, so I won’t just stop entirely.
Just a break to recharge my batteries a bit and reestablish purpose.
Here’s some Sunday Morning Music from the immortal Janis Joplin, Piece of My Heart.
See you on the flipside.
Redtree Times 