Her antiquity in preceding and surviving succeeding tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all her phases, rising and setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning: the forced invariability of her aspect: her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her potency over effluent and refluent waters: her power to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to incite to and aid delinquency: the tranquil inscrutability of her visage: the terribility of her isolated dominant resplendent propinquity: her omens of tempest and of calm: the stimulation of her light, her motion and her presence: the admonition of her craters, her arid seas, her silence: her splendour, when visible: her attraction, when invisible.
― James Joyce, Ulysses
Well, the opening for my annual solo show at the Principle Gallery is tonight. And I am here in the studio, absent again this year.
Last year, though it felt strange in not being there, it felt necessary. Had to be done but it didn’t feel good to not be able to meet with people to talk and get some feedback about my work. But with another year of distant isolation under my belt, this year’s absence doesn’t feel any better.
In fact, it feels worse.
There’s a feeling of disconnectedness, as though I am way out of whatever loop there is surrounding my work. Like I am some sort satellite like the moon in the new painting above from this show, To the Calling Moon. I am periodically visible but distant and not there most of the time. There’s more to be said about this analogy but I really don’t feel like going into right now.
This sense of isolation is accompanied by a sharp anxiety from the thought that what little control I had over how my work is perceived is even more diminished. I can’t be there as an advocate and explainer for my work, don’t get a chance to personally see and feel people’s reaction to it. To read faces and body language. It’s never quite the same getting second-hand feedback in that it’s impossible for others to fill in the nuances that I sometimes notice.
But the show must go on, even if without me again this year. I am very pleased on an emotional level with this show and hope that those who make their way to the gallery for this show tonight or later feel that way as well. It’s a show of ponderance as To the Calling Moon can attest.
I think this painting is a good choice for today. Like me, it’s a bit blue. Normally, I put myself in the role of the Red Tree in my work but in this case, I may be that moon– distant and silent.
The title of this year’s solo exhibit, my 22nd at the Principle Gallery, is Between Here and There. It opens tonight, June 4, 2021 at their King Street gallery in Alexandria, VA. You can view the show catalog by clicking here.
Below is a favorite song of mine from Neko Case that seems perfect for this morning, both in subject and tone. Thanks so much.
I started off this morning at a very different place than where I finished when I began looking for this Sunday morning’s musical selection. I started watching videos from Long John Baldry which somehow led to Neko Case which even more oddly led me to Oscar Peterson and Count Basie.
One of the results of doing this blog for so long– over eight years now– is that when real life takes precedence and there’s not enough time or energy to write anything, I feel a real sense of guilt. This has become an entrenched part of my day and to be too busy or distracted with something else leaves me with a bit of an empty feeling, like I’m shirking my duty, even if it is only to myself.
First, too many thanks to send out to everyone who made yesterday’s talk at the West End Gallery such a fun event. That may well be one of the most enjoyable talks I’ve participated out of the many that I’ve done. What a wonderful and engaged group of folks! They were so welcoming and warm that it made me feel very comfortable and free to tell my little stories. I had a good time and I hope they did as well.
Redtree Times 