Reflections

Without exposing the messy details, my life is in a period of great transition. The life I have spent 14 years creating and co-creating is disintegrating, and I am carrying loads of grief. Dark times, personal and global, inspire deep contemplation and stir the wells of emotional pain that we all inherit and that we accumulate in our lifetimes. I have been thinking a lot about my life’s work–what it has been and what I want it to be. I have wondered how I can be a better, stronger, healthier person living in service of myself, my family, and my community. I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be an artist. The life of an artist, and the value of art in American culture, are often romanticized or ridiculed, glorified or demeaned, and are subject to commodification. Any way you cut it there are gross misunderstandings that have led to a lack of art and artistry in the lives of many.  Essentially, the life of an artist is a life open to creativity, to growth and change, to grief and discomfort and uncertainty. It is a life open to interpretation, to great success, to great failure, and to perseverance in the face of adversity. It is a life open to revision and transformation. It is a humble life that recognizes how easily everything we hold dear can be stripped away in the blink of an eye. Artists are often in touch with the dichotomy of personal vulnerability and personal power. Artists express themselves through a multitude of mediums, some more easily defined as art than others. As many before have recognized, I am learning that art is about the process and less about the product, which means that every moment of our lives is an artistic opportunity, and that our lives in themselves can be works of art.

I have spent the last eight years reclaiming glass that is bound for the landfill and transforming it into beautiful objects. I will not cease this activity. This work feeds me in many ways and I love it, however, I am now faced with the task of reclaiming the bits and pieces of my life that are useful and important and transforming them into something new, strong, functional and beautiful. As a result, my glassworks business will fluctuate as I devote energy to new paths. Production and sales have already slowed, and while that feels like another loss, it is necessary and okay. I am back in school, actively pursuing a career in Horticultural Therapy and it is changing me, for the better. It is challenging and feeding me. For those of you who follow my work–don’t give up on me, and please stay tuned. I could use your support. Reintegration will come, and when it does, so will a new blossoming of creativity and expression. Even in my darkest moments of struggle, I am attentive to this process and the hard lessons. I am mustering my courage to look forward to what lies ahead and I am curious about the future.