to this, virtually overnight.
My studio looks more like a set from Michel Gondry's Science of Sleep, a dream-scene of corrugated cardboard skyscrapers, though completely without his trademark whimsy.
(Not whimsical. Not one bit).
The most amazing thing about all this finishing and tweaking and boxing and taping and folding and bubble-wrapping is that it actually is the very physical, very real end to a long period of imagining and hoping and magical thinking. Magical thinking because this show, my first Two Person, was always two years away, no matter what day it presently was. Even a few months ago it seemed that way. It was only recently that it became an actual time, a place, a wherewhatwhen. Which is really wonderful, despite the jumping stomach and the ear-splitting eagle-shrieks of packing tape, the realities of truck dimensions, the fears of forgetting something important or even what my work is about. Things that were floating around in air have come back down - I no longer feel like the party planner trying to figure out how to get all the balloons off the ceiling.
Maybe a show is really a version of the art making process itself, a very public tethering of personal thoughts onto something you can see and hold. Up until now, it's been a plan, a series of inventions designed to get those thoughts back down. Until now, it's both much better and far worse than I want it to be. And once it's in my hands, it is, well, what it is, with a life span. It'll be interesting finding out how that feels.
(Here's a little about the show, where I'm sharing the gallery with the amazing paintings of Barry Sparkman, on the site You R Here)
February 3rd - March 21, 2012
I'll see you soon!