Well, I don’t have a photograph to prove it, but I did happily manage a few hours in the studio this week. Six, to be exact, over the course of two days. I did some shuffling and rearranging, to make space to work among all the disparate items stored in that small room. I did some tidying, just to make it more pleasant. Finally, I worked on some art.
Not the finding-flow/following-the-muse/wild-inspiration type of art-making. No, this was a necessary – but not as glorious – aspect of the process.
I dismantled one large collage that I’d assembled a couple weeks ago, spread the elements out so that I could recall their positioning, and – one-by-one – glued them into place. I tweaked the design a bit before calling it done. Then, I coated both sides of the heavy paper collage with gel medium, wrapped it in thin plastic, layered it between two sturdy plywood boards, and tucked in between my mattress and box spring to dry.
Art is one of those activities that sometimes brings great excitement, at other times just soothes. Sometimes decisions have to be made every moment; other times it is just going through the necessary motions.
I like all aspects of the process.