I’ve been thinking a lot about the Jung quote that goes something along the lines of life being a pause between two great mysteries. Also heavy on the mind are flying saucers in desert skies and an almost desperation to take my family to a place like Fort Davis, Texas where there are no city lights to wash out the stars and you can visit McDonald Observatory to see the moon up close. It’s important to see really faraway, to be immersed in it, and for my daughter to develop a good understanding that life exists well beyond where we are standing.
Pursuing a daily studio practice is how I connect with those two great mysteries. It doesn’t give me an answer to what the mysteries are, instead it allows me to find joy by simply being in their company.
My solo show, Talisman, opens in one month and today I felt compelled to pack up most of the work into neat little piles and store them in a corner of the studio. I’m clearing the decks for the new wave of paintings which will continue to explore foggy memories and the specialness of particular spaces but the next group will lean heavier into the guidance we receive from unknown sources.
There was a sadness in packing it away but my need for less noise outweighed the want to keep the work out. The studio is small and fills up quickly - new ideas need empty quiet.
