Six days, and I’m on a plane to Toronto, and into a week of prep and install for my upcoming exhibition at the Fleishman Gallery.
The proverbial ducks are getting into rows (or maybe the kittens are getting herded … more accurate I think!) … the work I’ve shipped has arrived ahead of me at the gallery, and all in one piece; the work that’s coming with me is safely packed, and ready to put into my bags. In the process of figuring out what to bring in the way of coats, clothes and other non-art items, and wrapping up some loose ends in other work here before I leave.
I’m getting really quite excited about presenting the work, and about seeing people I haven’t seen for quite some time. It’s been great hearing from people I’ve let know about the exhibition, and beginning to make plans to get together with some of them is great fun.
I’m also happy to getting out of the snow for a bit!
I readily admit my fondness for the stark beauty of the landscape this time of year – even the urban streetscapes are softened and made into otherworldly sculptures. Everything reduced to a series of contrasts. Dark and light, rough and smooth, hard and soft. The world speaks in simple shapes and clean lines. We see the essences, the bones of things exposed … and then hidden, re-fleshed in snow pillows.
But … still, despite this strident Prairie beauty, I will be ok with not having to shovel, not having to climb over heaps of snow, not slipping every second step on black ice that’s hidden beneath fluffy white stuff.
For a little while, anyway.