Try as I might, the job of editing and cleaning my studio space took twice as long as I had anticipated. On the other hand it was precicely the length of time my mother had predicted, but then...she did have to contend with me as a teenager, so is well versed in just how much stuff I can squirrel away into small spaces.
In between studio cleaning, general domestic chores and obligations outside the home, 'art making' has been sporatic and varied. I continue to experiment with porcelain clay on a small scale, and find the design aspect to be a satisfying exercise in problem solving. Working around the kiln firing schedule of a friend means it happens in little waves of creativity, forcing me to hit the pause button, stop running around and focus on a single project for a few hours.
A long awaited tapestry workshop allowed me to begin to understand simple frame loom weaving. That certainly has my imagination chafting at the bit to do more, but there is a need to rein in my enthusiasm and consider timelines as we move into Spring. Art show season is around the corner and I should be to turning my attention to painting and printmaking ahead of those calls to entry. At least that is what I tell myself.
For reasons that I've never been quite able to discern, I'm much more interested in the process aspect of art than the showing of it. A few years ago an artist friend was repeatedly suggesting I submit my work to a juried show, and for ages I shrugged it off with a smile. One day, when the topic was floated again I paused, and with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop asked 'why do people bother?'
There are probably almost as many reasons that people 'show' their work as there are to 'make' the art. While I grasp the 'theory' of entering art shows, having successfully done so a number of times, I'm still not particularly motivated to do so.
Which brings me to the note stuck to my computer, reminding me of those Spring calls to entry. Time is marching forward, the seconds stomping rhythmically in my head as those dates move ever closer. I glance at the calendar with a growing sense of guilt. The studio is clean, with projects lounging on the easel waiting for me to pick up a paint brush and finish them. The sensible thing would be to stop wondering why I'm not doing that and just get on with the work. If I finish it in time I'll submit a piece. If I don't...there is always the existential dread of the Autumn calls to entry to look forward to.