I need to catch this flight today. I need to hit that sweet spot. Like that spot on the crest of a wave, it will either pull you with it or leave you in its wake. My flight to Beijing was not for me. I couldn't get back there and that's okay. But the feeling is that of being left behind by the wave. I missed it. I will not miss the next one. I am ready to come home and my home is ready for me. I will catch the next wave, I will let it take me. I am no longer scared of letting my body go. I will get on the plane and let it carry me home. Into the arms of my love, on into my studio and my work. Into the 2014. I am going to miss you, HK and Taiwan, but I think the wave has the power to carry me back. I feel like I could ride this one for a long time.
This work is a result of one month spent working in Beijing as part of the Red Gate Residency program. It must be said that, as a city to create in, Beijing can take a lot from you but it can also give so much back. It's difficult to explain how it feels when dissolution is met by true and subtle beauty, I've known this many times. Here I've experienced heartache and joy, isolation and prosperity, and an overwhelming understanding that I am doing the right thing. As I worked and as I walked, I always came back to this feeling. "I am meant to be here," I thought "This is hard, this is exhausting, and I am building my soul." This work inhabits space in a way I find very pleasing. It's unobtrusive and quiet, as mist should be. As an obstacle it takes some getting used to, in the first week or so I caught wool and fluff on my hair and cloths. But you incorporate this new thing into your daily habits and soon I was moving around as naturally as if the room were empty. When I took it down on my last day in Beijing, I felt dizzy and lightheaded. Disoriented, as if my body had been spun around several times and then told to walk a straight line. It was so much a part of my space, of this place that had been my brief home.
I feel a strong urge to return to Beijing. I need to grow in many ways before I go back. I need to learn Chinese. I need to continue building my soul. And when I see Beijing again, how will she greet me? How will I greet her? I really want to know.
It's been a while since an update, and it's bad when a blog stagnates. I have been busy for a couple of weeks on a show I've decided to call Nooks and Crannies, which I have been able to do as part of the Canberra Contemporary Art Space residency program. (Which incidentally has been truly wonderful and enjoyable.) The show opens on the 16th of February.
I'd like to think all the work, this learning, I've been doing this year is taking its next step. The show will be a part of the work, too, and as this is my first solo show, I'm actually quite curious as to how the work will change and what it might mean come the time when it all goes up on the walls.
I've also been working towards Blaze 6, the annual show which is the culmination of the entire CCAS residency program. I'll leave that for another update, just be sure to get there because it is always a fab show.
Speaking of CCAS, the 2012 residents are about to begin. I'll be keeping an eye out. My residency is coming to an end and I have had to move out of my studio, which I've really become attached to. I try not to be sentimental about these things, but that is ultimately futile. The studio, like nature and landscape, helps form my thoughts and ideas. It is a facet of my extended mind. It's been a melancholic afternoon.
I have some planed updates including new years resolutions (it's already February for goodness sake) and some more Blaze details but I'm still working on things leading up to the opening so I might be quiet for a time. 2012 feels like it will be a surprising and unusual year. In all the right ways.
I like to travel away from something and towards something else. This can be a person or place or atmosphere or shop, it doesn't matter as long as you do it with romance and melancholy.
Saying goodbye is not just loss, it also accompanies change; a passage to somewhere new. "Goodbye is a little like dying", but without it you're incomplete and cold long afterwards. I can't stand short goodbyes.
A friend said the year is finally beginning. It's about time.