Fingertips

Still finalizing travel arrangements for these next two weeks, but I will be attending my first opening reception since attending school (!!!). I've submitted work to two other open calls for exhibitions, checking off 3 out of 5 opportunities I had lined up for the month of March. While it's been a few weeks since I've confronted any new ideas, I can see myself making strides and plans for work when I have time again.

Scheduling to work over weekends has slowed my progress, but my bank account isn't protesting. I've been full of to-do for the past month, but that will soon wrap up in coming weeks and I will sleep. I'm learning to let dirty dishes linger, ignore the unmade bed, shield my face from my desk piled with papers. I've never been more in love with my job.

By inches, I carve my path and continue on this leap of faith.

Breaks

Our poinsettia is succumbing to gravity and everyone tells me they are difficult to care for. I still feel responsible for the fact that the only available window faces north.

After Thanksgiving break, everything became a blur and I wilted slowly. The new year imminent and so as a race, together, we reflect. For me, this means everything that unfolded after July. Easily I can find many things I have not done—I have completed one "piece" since moving. I've hardly kept a sketchbook, let alone a studio practice. I spend my evenings knit-knit-knitting and swallowing episode after episode of anything. 

The question then becomes "what happened when?" But I've learned it doesn't have to end with what I've yet to do.

What happened when? I've been making a nest and preparing to take flight.