I cannot imagine my life without the experience of the Cotton Factory artist residency. On all levels – personal, professional, academic, philosophical and physical (since I have now moved my work and my life here) – it continues to enrich, expand and amplify my world. Residencies are transformative things, I’ve learned. In some ways, contradictory, … More Artist residency in Hamilton: highly recommended
Miles traveled, journeys completed, contracts in the final approach to resolution. Dad’s passing was five days ago, my capstone presentation four days ago, our first family gathering now two nights past. I drove south through and out of the fog this morning, to find sanctuary. For the first time in many weeks of research, trips … More Aftereffects
My dad has died. Twenty-seven hours ago, now. Oddly, I have no sense of his absence, rather a steady, gentle regard, a muscled arm around my shoulders as I write and work. There are tears, of course. Of course. When Dave quotes Hamlet in an email, Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince; … More Perspective
When I told dad I would present my final masters research (with some bad-assery) in ten days, all the terrible anxiety and fear vanished from his face. He smiled. He is in the final, non-verbal stage of dementia, frustrated beyond imagining that he has no words and only emotion, no time, only an endless Now … More Lamps and chairs
The morning is introverted and full of stillness. My ambition and drive are sleeping, I neither expand or contract, I am simple with my first coffee. Listening, in my purple slippers and with these six red candles, to the train, the starlings, the panicked robin, the traffic that sounds like wind. Cello is warm and … More Capstone 1: in every direction, a window
Time teaches that there’s more to this story we’re in now than ‘broken heart’. So many other hearts are broken, badly and beyond repair, in this world, across religion, family, geography, faith and belief, music and art, that there’s no room now for any one person’s ache and wrong. We are in an ocean of … More Portraits 2: broken hearted?
It’s been a long transition, seems like, from Artist-in-Residence to Resident, at The Cotton Factory, and as of this week, in Hamilton. In fact it hasn’t been long, considering the details sorted and schedules set, leases signed and accounts set up. Futons purchased and assembled, movers booked, packing strategies set in motion… Two weeks. I’ll … More Portraits 1: Hubbard Squash