First Museum Show
2010 was packed with activity and change. Early months were taken up with three back-to-back solo shows of my Pilgrimage paintings. Every spare minute was crammed with:
• Photographing and framing 19 paintings and 8 studies
• Designing installations for three starkly different spaces
• Framing and labeling accompanying photographs and artifacts
• Creating all the information for wall tags
• Lining up volunteers to help me transport the paintings, install the exhibition, and later deconstruct and move to the next location
• Creating, printing and making covers for a Pilgrimage Gift Pack of 17 cards, envelopes, and stories.
My relationship to these paintings changed once the first public exhibition took place. It was a bit like seeing one of your kids leave for college. I had the awareness that these works were no longer me or mine. While I am responsible for getting them out into the world, they now have a life of their own.
The high point of this period was having my first museum show. As I gave various artist talks and discussed my work with viewers, I began to use the phrase “narrative abstraction” to describe my style of art. It was wonderful to finally come up with a name for what I do, but it has also launched me into further reflection on what I mean by this term.
Spring morphed into summer as I packed up the last show at Grants Pass Museum of Art and began to contemplate shows outside of Oregon. I know the work has a powerful impact because a frequent comment made by Pilgrimage viewers to gallery staff was, “This is the best show you’ve had here. “ Please let me know if you have connections to cultural art centers or local museums of art.
Recreating My Space
In a moment of insanity, I decided to paint the interior of my home this summer, something I had contemplated many times in the seven years that I have owned it. Color choices made two years ago were revisited and altered as I clarified that I wanted the downstairs to be warm and inviting, the entry and stairwell to reflect journey and movement, and the upstairs to be calm and meditative.
I made a big mistake by employing a neighbor’s friend to paint the areas requiring ladders. What should have taken a week took over a month because the painter left in the middle of the project and had to be sought after to return and complete the task. Plus, my color changes required meticulous edging that, given the limitations of the painter, I had to do myself. More frustration ensued when the painter overcharged without providing proper documentation and invoices. I won’t go into my anger and disgust when this person left loaded paint brushes and rollers in my refrigerator.
Thank goodness I had a grand adventure to divert my attention from disruption at home. A weekend of kayaking the Rogue River with my yoga teacher and nine other women was totally exciting and exhilarating. Kayaking tested my willingness to take risks and set the stage for me to launch into a new series of paintings, Children of Eve. You’ll be hearing more about this in 2011
Opening to Change
Even though I’ve navigated many changes in my work at the university - my office moved seven times in ten years and the director who hired me moved to greener pastures - I was not prepared for the impact of having both the current director and academic secretary retire and go half time. Since the other two persons on my team were already part-time, that means I am the only fulltime person. After a couple of months being overwhelmed with trying to keep everything together, I set some boundaries and clarified work hours and duties for all team members.
The loss of my team as I had known it triggered memories of other losses – my daughter, former colleagues, a special workmate, organizations and meaningful missions. I suspect that each deep loss we experience must be renegotiated as circumstances in our life change. I am grateful that counseling and stress management are available as a job benefit. Although I still feel somewhat fragile, I think I’m handling the angst a bit better now.
Another big change is the transformation of my granddaughters from little girls into a teenager and young adult. Haley turned 17 in November. As a senior in high school, she is making applications for college next fall. Merron turned 13 early this month. She and I will be taking an international trip this summer, our destination to be selected in the next few weeks.
In 2011,
May hope infuse your daily life,
Courage embolden you to make changes, and
Care for planet earth become a focus of your actions.
Peace and love to all,
LiDoña
• Photographing and framing 19 paintings and 8 studies
• Designing installations for three starkly different spaces
• Framing and labeling accompanying photographs and artifacts
• Creating all the information for wall tags
• Lining up volunteers to help me transport the paintings, install the exhibition, and later deconstruct and move to the next location
• Creating, printing and making covers for a Pilgrimage Gift Pack of 17 cards, envelopes, and stories.
My relationship to these paintings changed once the first public exhibition took place. It was a bit like seeing one of your kids leave for college. I had the awareness that these works were no longer me or mine. While I am responsible for getting them out into the world, they now have a life of their own.
The high point of this period was having my first museum show. As I gave various artist talks and discussed my work with viewers, I began to use the phrase “narrative abstraction” to describe my style of art. It was wonderful to finally come up with a name for what I do, but it has also launched me into further reflection on what I mean by this term.
Spring morphed into summer as I packed up the last show at Grants Pass Museum of Art and began to contemplate shows outside of Oregon. I know the work has a powerful impact because a frequent comment made by Pilgrimage viewers to gallery staff was, “This is the best show you’ve had here. “ Please let me know if you have connections to cultural art centers or local museums of art.
In a moment of insanity, I decided to paint the interior of my home this summer, something I had contemplated many times in the seven years that I have owned it. Color choices made two years ago were revisited and altered as I clarified that I wanted the downstairs to be warm and inviting, the entry and stairwell to reflect journey and movement, and the upstairs to be calm and meditative.
I made a big mistake by employing a neighbor’s friend to paint the areas requiring ladders. What should have taken a week took over a month because the painter left in the middle of the project and had to be sought after to return and complete the task. Plus, my color changes required meticulous edging that, given the limitations of the painter, I had to do myself. More frustration ensued when the painter overcharged without providing proper documentation and invoices. I won’t go into my anger and disgust when this person left loaded paint brushes and rollers in my refrigerator.
Thank goodness I had a grand adventure to divert my attention from disruption at home. A weekend of kayaking the Rogue River with my yoga teacher and nine other women was totally exciting and exhilarating. Kayaking tested my willingness to take risks and set the stage for me to launch into a new series of paintings, Children of Eve. You’ll be hearing more about this in 2011
Even though I’ve navigated many changes in my work at the university - my office moved seven times in ten years and the director who hired me moved to greener pastures - I was not prepared for the impact of having both the current director and academic secretary retire and go half time. Since the other two persons on my team were already part-time, that means I am the only fulltime person. After a couple of months being overwhelmed with trying to keep everything together, I set some boundaries and clarified work hours and duties for all team members.
The loss of my team as I had known it triggered memories of other losses – my daughter, former colleagues, a special workmate, organizations and meaningful missions. I suspect that each deep loss we experience must be renegotiated as circumstances in our life change. I am grateful that counseling and stress management are available as a job benefit. Although I still feel somewhat fragile, I think I’m handling the angst a bit better now.
Another big change is the transformation of my granddaughters from little girls into a teenager and young adult. Haley turned 17 in November. As a senior in high school, she is making applications for college next fall. Merron turned 13 early this month. She and I will be taking an international trip this summer, our destination to be selected in the next few weeks.
May hope infuse your daily life,
Courage embolden you to make changes, and
Care for planet earth become a focus of your actions.
Peace and love to all,
LiDoña
