I love these hard things all placed in a hard stone bowl. They feel nice and cool in the hands but more often than not my hands will ache with the weight of them. Age. Age is making decisions before I even get to put in my own thoughts on the matter. It is time to make decisions as to what I will (or can) do with my hands.
Yesterday I spent the day placing prints in frames, polishing the glass and covering the backs, making hangers where needed. Here are white line prints and the finally finished linoleum crow print.
Maybe I can sell them now. At least they are ready to go somewhere besides sit here in the studio reminding me that maybe it is time to stop making. But then what? Just keep things smaller, easier and softer. Make work that feels good to the touch and is easily packed away. Maybe I should write another story. That is only an accumulation of papers, papers and words. Poetry is good. Maybe poetry inspired by the photos I take and then zero in on the reason I took them. Like this.
Or this.
But what I will most likely do is just go into the studio this morning, clean up all the mess I made yesterday and the day before and start over. It won’t be poetry or writing. I need cloudy, foggy cool days to get that done right. And it is lovely outside. Not a good day for writing but a good day for a walk. If I don’t get sidetracked in the studio with another something to make I might just do that.
But I am likely to make something. Draw something. I might even sew something. Just the thought of soft cloth and the hum of the sewing machine is appealing. Hand stitching. That would be nice. Or weaving shifu threads on the loom.
For now a hot herbal tea and a good think before going back into the studio.
