berification

short-term solution for the blues
5"x6" watercolor of Kaiser, the lovable and emotionally complex dog of a friend at Better Farm.

Forget about the consolations of art. Today, I comforted myself with strawberries. Driving back downstate, having stayed the night in Cobleskill, coaxed the horse and admired the flowers, I stopped at a farm I like and picked most of the berries left in the fields. It's nearing the end of the season, but I hoped I'd be able to get my hands on a few, even if I had to really hunt for them- as opposed to earlier on when a sneeze in the rows will yield an effortless boxful. Yes, I needed something to help me deal with some of the intense feelings I've been experiencing after reluctantly leaving Better Farm, and the end of these two months. They don't call me strawberica for nothing. (Actually, that was a completely self-imposed name I came up with years ago, from a fruity poem I wrote.) After breakfasting on strawberry pancakes with my parents and, um, lunching on homemade strawberry ice cream, I feel a bit better. You do what you have to do.
Tonight we've been hanging the show at Concrete Gallery in Cold Spring (137 Main St), which opens this weekend- though the reception is July 9, next Sat. It's a quick shift of my mental gears, but I'm really glad to have the chance to show off some new work and see how it looks together in a space. Part New Mexico and part upstate New York. The other thing to ponder is how, instead of having it be the 'real' world I'm returning to from the 'ideal' (and idyllic) creatively charged atmosphere of an art residency, I can make a focused effort to conflate the two and try to live that art life ever more sustainably. Possible? The ongoing dilemma. But the idea of it feels a lot more real than anything else I can imagine doing. The support and perceptiveness of others has hugely nourished my spirit (and I've just received some emails and messages that have cheered me), and even if I'm a bit blue, I can remember that.