05 December 2006

Amid Further Detritus

In 48 hours we'll be sitting in the title office, closing on the new house. Enormous sums of money will exchange hands, sets of keys will be turned over, and life itself will undergo a seismic shift.

The past weekend was wall-to-wall people, what with the very final day of the gallery on Saturday afternoon and artists going back and forth collecting their remaining work on Sunday. I consumed quite a bit of bubbly, as we had a bottle on hand from the last reception and a couple more were brought over in the course of the day. We actually had a good time, although now we are both battling colds.

In spite of physical weariness, I managed to clear out 80% of the basement, and Steve brought up ten boxes of books and other heavy items. There's a few more things to go, but all of it is manageable. We need to keep enough space up here clear so the movers can deal with our larger items.

I am peopled-out from the weekend and just want to get on with the move. But it isn't only that which puts me in an introspective mood. Uncovering so many things long in storage can do that to anyone. At this moment I am witnessing the city sanitation guys emptying our giant trash bin, which includes all my old client files and other folders of once-relevant information. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to all that! There's still too much stuff being moved as it is, and I know at some point I will probably unload a great deal of it, too.

The real difference between now and the past (to which I've just said bye-bye as it was consumed by the garbage truck) is in the meaning of "get on with the move." In the past, it would mean a rush to get set up in the new place and start living that chapter of my life. But it doesn't mean that now. I'm "getting on with the move" right here, right now, even as I am writing this blog at a table surrounded by towering stacks of boxes. It's the process that absorbs me more than the goal. In middle age I am finally settling down enough to get more out of everything, even the awkward, in-between, messy times. I'm in a flux, but not particularly flux-tered.

This has a direct parallel in the process of art. The more I've painted and assembled and witnessed the connection between the public and my work, the easier it gets to work directly from essential state of being, from the present, from the solar plexus, in the moment. The more I do that, the less neurotic I become. And now the less neurotic I am, the more that I am able to live everyday life in the moment and not sweat the little things or become distressed by disorder. The cool thing is if it comes full circle and the lack of distress over disorder in everyday life leads to more good working time for art.

I'm curious to see if that is how it will play out. I'm also curious to see how my sense of the genius loci will play out.

The mover has just called and will start several hours earlier on Friday, but will be able to take more than originally planned. This should work out pretty well.

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