I’m decompressing slowly from my shows…and having withdrawal symptoms. sometimes i think i am addicted to my work and the deep sense of purpose it gives me. have been having strange dreams about The Gifts this week, with it sited in a church and me wandering around half undressed looking for a therapist..hm. not sure if its wise to write this, but it’s all part of the after-effect of spending a year developing a highly emotionally charged artwork and having it in seen by large numbers of the public..
I got a facebook message from Shafan, who is one of the Museum’s front of house staff and has been working in the gallery. She also happens to be iranian and from Tabriz, very close to the village where my mother was born, so i once again feel a strange but comforting sense of presence there, from here. It sounds like a lot of people are visiting the show and the response is powerful and positive.. I am missing wrapping things up, and i have quite a few pieces in mind that i want to make, ranging from the tiny to room-size..I will be returning to the studio next week but meanwhile it is taking some letting go to adjust to the rhythm of life back home..
Anyway, seeking inspiration, i came across this Rumi poem that i had considered using in the catalogue but never did, it seems like a good point to offer it up;
from ‘ Put this Design in your Carpet’
“..There is an unseen presence we honor
that gives the gifts.
You’re water, We’re the millstone.
You’re wind. We’re dust blown up into shapes.
You’re spirit. We’re the opening and closing
Of our hands. You’re the clarity.
We’re this language that tries to say it.
You’re joy. We’re all the different kinds of laughing..’
(The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks , with Reynold Nicholson, A.J Arberry, John Moyne. Expanded Edtion, Harper One 2004.)
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