September has arrived, and the mornings have a feeling of change. The air is less heavy and the smells are shifting from the sweet smell of growth to something more restful. I want to say that I can smell the plants giving up their constant drive to grow and now they are softening into a period of quiet decay. Here is a time to rest.
Meanwhile, in my art practice, I am still preparing for my first, small exhibit. This time next month, I will be delivering work to the Emporium Art Center, a beautiful, three-story gallery on the 100 block of Gay Street, where two white walls will get filled with all the art they can handle. Somehow, I have gone from zero finished artwork to too many finished artworks to fit into the exhibit space. I am curious about when and how this happened. Was it blind panic that propelled me to finish so many pieces? Or would the pieces have been finished even without the panic? That information would be worth knowing for the next time that I sign up for a show as I don't much like that feeling of panic.
This question and many others are swirling around in my head as I check off the final work parts of this exhibit. The work will need to be photographed (not my forte) and framed, priced and named. I hope that I can take advantage of a pause between this exhibit and my next projects to reflect on the lessons that I learned about myself and the creative process as well as this new piece of art for me: putting art into the world.
One thing I know about myself is that I enjoy doing things slowly and quietly, and I think that perhaps this blog will serve as a landing place for some of my reflections in the month ahead as it offers a quiet and slow way for me to unwind the threads of the creative path through tiny thoughts in quiet moments.