So, this was the year of COVID-19, and like all of you – I have an excuse. Despite all of my best wishes and intentions, an entire year has passed into a disappointing whirlwind of cancelled classes, loss, rescheduled events, debilitating sadness, fear and worry. If you’ve read my writing for long, you’ve probably realized by now that when there’s a shit storm, I retreat to the sanctity of my peaceful inner world. I step out of the line and go away. I check out. Can’t help it, sorry guys, but you know that’s who I am.
I haven’t got very much jewelry work to show for 2020, because after getting back from teaching in Tucson last year, I became compelled to make my home the safe space for everything and everyone I love and all that is good in this poor, sad and suffering world. I finally did get to teach a workshop for three intrepid students this past October, and all I can say is Bless You Snow Farm, you saved my spirit and got me through early winter. It was the one other good artistic thing that happened for me in 2020.
For the past year, I did “mom” in a huge way – and cooked, cleaned, organized, read dozens of books, took care of cats and kids, grew an absolutely perfect and bountiful garden, purged junk and did my very best to be brave, strong, feel life and keep us all alive and well. We have each other, a roof over our heads, good food to eat and although it wasn’t easy, I’ve kept a stiff upper lip and soldiered on. I always do what has to be done, and the thought of making art during hyper-survival mode just seemed alien and ridiculous. My bench has been idle for months and many months and I could only look at it like a dear friend I had loved so long ago and kept meaning to call but never really made the time for. There was just so much other survival stuff to do instead.
Two weeks ago, something in the universe moved. I was awarded a huge pile of hope and an important reason to get myself back to my bench. I felt a slow change engulf me over the course of about three days, and then really, really good news came from several different places, seemingly all at once. I have no clue how it happened and I always look for reasons because, you know, there must be a reason. The only explanation I can offer is that one morning in mid-January, I woke up and picked up a pen and started drawing ideas that had come to me from dream world. Sleeping through the night has become a little easier for me since November, and I’ve had really vivid and instructive dreams for about a month now. Anyway, something has lifted and cleared away in my psyche and I have been nudged to get to work again.
It’s amazing that once I started to draw again, the Universe reminded me of my path. I truly believe that when you do what you are supposed to do, the Universe will reward you. I feel optimistic again and I really want to work – even though the Pandemic is still raging out there, I am still poor, and nothing else has really changed. The only difference is that the wolf at my door finally went somewhere else. I hope he stays there.