Monday, June 22, 2009

A Respectfully Quiet Update

So now that it’s been roughly 3 weeks since I moved into the new space, I’m starting to feel again more connected to myself, my space and my work, and beginning to notice that old work habits are resurfacing. I’ve now gotten back into the grove of bouncing between daily tasks like cleaning, reading, writing, and at every little lapse interval in between I’m beginning to work on art. While I don’t want to create expectations, I do have some new work on the go and have high hopes that they can evolve into the start of the next body of work. I’m finally feeling like some semblance of an artist again, and all the doubts and fretting I have been experiencing over the past few months are slowly exiting my head.

Being back to work feels wonderful.

This new space is an interesting one, much different from the art centre where I was previously homed. There, I was surrounded by a flurry of creativity between other artists exhibiting in the gallery below, several other working artists in private studios like mine, and many theatre groups coming and going, using the space for both rehearsal and performance. While though there was a lot was happening, everything stopped after about 6:00 and I had come to accept and love that I was the only person alive in the building at night.

There’s a beautiful freedom in realizing that you are the only person inhibiting a large space. It can be a place of sacred meditation and peace, a place to hear your thoughts and only your thoughts, to reconnect with the chatter of the inner soul. A place to play privately, to be unapologetically loud or utterly quiet, restricted only by your own desires.

This building is completely different. While there are many legitimate regular businesses that use the facility, with typical 8 am to 8 pm hours, at night it’s a different story of creativity. After the businesses and other artists leave the building for the day, this place is overrun by musicians who have many studios for their personal rehearsal space. It’s a completely different atmosphere that can be horrifically overwhelming at times. When I originally first moved and had to face the reality of just how obnoxious it could be, I nearly lost it again. How could I work when the music was so intrusive? How would I ever get anything accomplished again?

Now it’s starting to become wonderfully reassuring. I’ve come to recognize that many of them are quite skilled and I now get real comfort that comes with knowing that now I’m never alone. There are possibly friends to be made here, and connections to seek just around the corner. While the utter peace and quiet and desertion I came to enjoy at my previous studio, there’s about as much opportunity here, and perhaps this is more appropriate to my time.
Each space offers its communities. Perhaps I originally fretted that this would be the most isolating part of my journey, I have high hopes that hopefully be shown wrong.

Just like Home, I’d like to believe that Community is wherever you make it.

p.s. I would have pictures except I have managed to loose the battery charger to my camera in the move somehow. It could be a while before I can get another one...

Monday, June 8, 2009

Welcome Home

My entire life I’ve struggled with the idea of roles and finding my own place in the world. I continually question if art is truly a worthwhile and meaningful endeavour which can possibly be significant to a larger picture or, if I’m following this path through personal selfishness and if that is the case, is it actually ok to exist that way and feel good about being selfish?

I thought moving would be a fresh start and act as some sort of conclusion to some of these thoughts, since fate randomly hooked me up with this opportunity instead of the alternatives which probably would have sacrificed my studio entirely, but it’s turning out to be not the greatest idea. There’s been several challenges to immediately overcome upon moving in, and I’m immediately unsure if the pros of this space really DO outweigh the cons. There’s a feeling of helplessness in not knowing what the solution is, or what the next step is. Past months have been spent feeling like my head is just barely above water. Is it ok to live this way? Is it ok for me to live this way? Is the sacrifice worth it?

The biggest dilemma of all, is that I realize I have every option to just immediately, knowingly change it. I’m not stuck into this path because I’m not intelligent enough to hold down a regular, steady full-time job. I’m smart enough to go to school and finish a degree in something that’d get me a job that is secure and pays enough to live decently, dare I say comfortably. I’m just continually conflicted about which direction to choose.

Finding studio and living space and the appropriate balance between the 2 has always been the challenge, and there are always sacrifices to be made, but this time I’m wondering if I’m strong enough as a person to exchange space, heat, and working plumbing in exchange for peace and quiet.

2 nights of sleeping there (almost 3 but I got fed up with the noise), I’ve been introduced to the bands that rehearse in the building (starting) at 2 am in the morning.

Today I bought earplugs.

I'm really tired.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Onward and Upward?

Since the first time I left home in NS, to moving to Ontario and all the moves little and big in between, I have developed a real love/hate relationship with moving and all the little bits and boobs big and small that it entails.

I’m excited, also sad, to announce that I have found a different studio space and I’ve officially left my current space, the one which has been home to me the past 2 years. And when I say home, I mean home, as I have never felt anywhere more at home than up in that little studio, here in London, Ontario.

However, I can’t hide that I’m really looking forward to this new stage of my life. Any life change is always met with lots of anxiety and the reality usually is, in my current life at least, that nothing is ever easy for long. But there’s always a lot of hope that the next leg will bring better opportunity and I hope that it works out alright.

The act of going through, sorting, and re-evaluating possessions is something I love. Long-distance moves are the best – purging is a great experience. I enjoyed every moment of letting go of every failed piece, and destroying everything which I couldn’t fathom as being a part of something else. In retrospect, now that everything is at the new place, I actually wish I could have gotten rid of more....

Turning the page to another era.

Next chapter. Cross fingers that it’s good...