Everything is done except for packing my sculptures. That just takes energy and very little thought. Later, when it stops snowing I'll get my boxes from the garage and begin.
I have to be finished for the closing ceremonies tomorrow. I have loved the Winter Olympics! So exciting and sooo inspiring. I have come to realize that, politics aside, I love my country. I love that it remains gracious in defeat, is pleased to win bronze and silver, and is pinching itself (metaphorically speaking) with glee over all the gold we've garnered. So much nicer (yes "nice"er) to see than the petulance and pouting we saw from the US women's hockey team when they were presented with silver medals. Only the Canadian Bobsledder Guner whatever showed a really nasty streak when they didn't win. I felt sorry for his team mates because he clearly can't control his temper. That negative energy might be a contributing factor to their loss.
I'm thriving in my privacy because my lodger went home for reading week. Life is good and I just finished the pancakes from supper for lunch.
Yeah!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Loving detachment?
I spent some time on the phone earlier talking to Ray. He has been so supportive about my show. He suggested I go into the gallery to test the sculpture stands for stability. He is concerned that somebody will lean on one and tip it over. I wonder if the gallery might have Museum Wax to stick things down. As usual Ray takes a dim view of most arty types, considering them to be just as ignorant and thoughtless as the general population. He will be at the opening and guarding the work from the ravening hoards of philistines.
At times, I wish we had worked out, because I do so enjoy his wit. I miss having him around. Yet when I think back on that last year together, his presence had such a negative influence on me. I was becoming so dependent on him for all the wrong reasons and he was pushing me away in really destructive ways. We are much better off now just being friends. I did love him though and he sure cared for me but we were so ill-matched - a rolling stone and a nester, not good. The stone kept returning to the nest to rest and feed but then move on. Each time he left the nest a cold blast of air blew in to damp down my warmth. I would close the nest to regenerate some warmth, and then invite him back in to repeat the process. Insanity is sometimes defined as "a state of repeating the same thing and expecting different outcomes".
I should have listened more carefully the night he said "this just doesn't feel right". Instead of taking it as a challenge to fix things so it would feel right, I should have realized he was speaking from a deeper philosophical level. Claire the fixer, would make it right. Ray the Buddhist, was seeing the impossibility of our attachment. He left for Deep River in part, to break the attachment.
His going was so important to us both. It gave me a chance to refocus on myself, and it gave him back the detachment that keeps him centered. Now we are friends in an uncomplicated way. I was going to say a simple way, but there will never be anything simple about Ray or me.
So on Monday I pick him up around 10:30, we come here to load the car and take my stuff to the gallery. He will bring his good eyes to the planning and hanging of my show. We have a very similar aesthetic and I trust his experience. We'll probably eat supper together and each go home. It's much nicer this way.
At times, I wish we had worked out, because I do so enjoy his wit. I miss having him around. Yet when I think back on that last year together, his presence had such a negative influence on me. I was becoming so dependent on him for all the wrong reasons and he was pushing me away in really destructive ways. We are much better off now just being friends. I did love him though and he sure cared for me but we were so ill-matched - a rolling stone and a nester, not good. The stone kept returning to the nest to rest and feed but then move on. Each time he left the nest a cold blast of air blew in to damp down my warmth. I would close the nest to regenerate some warmth, and then invite him back in to repeat the process. Insanity is sometimes defined as "a state of repeating the same thing and expecting different outcomes".
I should have listened more carefully the night he said "this just doesn't feel right". Instead of taking it as a challenge to fix things so it would feel right, I should have realized he was speaking from a deeper philosophical level. Claire the fixer, would make it right. Ray the Buddhist, was seeing the impossibility of our attachment. He left for Deep River in part, to break the attachment.
His going was so important to us both. It gave me a chance to refocus on myself, and it gave him back the detachment that keeps him centered. Now we are friends in an uncomplicated way. I was going to say a simple way, but there will never be anything simple about Ray or me.
So on Monday I pick him up around 10:30, we come here to load the car and take my stuff to the gallery. He will bring his good eyes to the planning and hanging of my show. We have a very similar aesthetic and I trust his experience. We'll probably eat supper together and each go home. It's much nicer this way.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Party Girl
OK, now I know I'm getting older. Why? I had to attend two events to celebrate Valentine's night: the "Lights Out" party at Market Hall, and the New Stages play reading. The party started at six. The play at 7:30. My plan was simple, I'd start the evening at Market Hall, have a drink eat some canapes and listen to the speeches. Then at 7:15 I'd head down the block to Showplace, attend the play as Randy's guest, stay for the discussion afterward and head back to conclude the evening at Market Hall. Simple.
Randy was supposed to come back to Market Hall as well.
Plans started to unravel when the play took longer than expected. Then nobody was able to drive the actors back to Toronto so Randy had to do it. I left Showplace with every intention of walking up the block to party on, but it was snowing, I was partnerless and suddenly I was very tired. I figured nobody would notice if I didn't show up, soooo...
driving home I was overcome with happiness knowing that my slippers awaited me. I had a good time, but it was enough. Once upon a time, I would never have gone home at 10:30. I would never have missed the opportunity to meet new people or passed on the action. Oh yes, I'm getting old but that's ok.
One good outcome - I was able to distribute invitations to my show at two venues tonight and three people, like farts in the breeze, said they would come.
Randy was supposed to come back to Market Hall as well.
Plans started to unravel when the play took longer than expected. Then nobody was able to drive the actors back to Toronto so Randy had to do it. I left Showplace with every intention of walking up the block to party on, but it was snowing, I was partnerless and suddenly I was very tired. I figured nobody would notice if I didn't show up, soooo...
driving home I was overcome with happiness knowing that my slippers awaited me. I had a good time, but it was enough. Once upon a time, I would never have gone home at 10:30. I would never have missed the opportunity to meet new people or passed on the action. Oh yes, I'm getting old but that's ok.
One good outcome - I was able to distribute invitations to my show at two venues tonight and three people, like farts in the breeze, said they would come.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Proud, happy and D&A
Yesterday Maya received word from the University of Leicester that her thesis was approved and that she has achieved her Master of Arts Degree with Distinction. I cannot describe my feelings at this time. Not only did she achieve this, but as a distance learner while still working full time. She enrolled while working as Asst. Curator of Art, at the Yukon Art Centre. She was then hired by Museum London as full Curator, made that huge trip overland to London ON, two years ago in January, adjusted to a new city and work environment with increased responsibilities and kept working away on her Master's studies. To now see this completed "with distinction" is an awesome achievement. It makes me prouder of her degree than I ever was of my own so many years ago.
Mine didn't come easy either. I was married to Alfie Pinsky when I first wanted to take a Master's Degree in Fine Arts. He had been establishing and building the first MFA program in Canada at Sir George Williams University (now Concordia)and was routinely lauding the achievements of his newly minted MFA graduates while I worked away in my studio preparing for yet another exhibition. In 1967 after "Expo 67" (where I exhibited at Place des Arts), I wanted to take a break and enter the Masters program. Alfie thought that was a bad idea. He felt I should continue sculpting while I had the momentum. I was so tired and isolated but I did what I was told. I stayed in my studio. I had a second great passion - ornithology, and nurtured a dream to take a biology degree, encouraged by Bill Black who was a biology professor and close friend of Alfie's at the time. This too was shot down with advice to stick to what I did best.
One could ask why I listened to him and didn't insist on my own path. It was the sixties and women did still defer to their husbands, but more, I didn't have the confidence to do it without his support. He was the Chair of Fine Arts and I needed his approval to gain admittance to the MFA program, let alone enter a new field entirely. Also, both my parents had died before I was 22 and Alfie was my only family,- mother, father and shrink. I never received any survivor counseling, so I believed my lifeline was my husband. It is sad to reflect that he encouraged such dependence when he should have seen it was also a noose around his neck. I had to leave him completely to get my MFA degree.
We separated in 1969 and I entered Columbia University in New York a year later while he moved a succession of Masters candidates into his bed. Looking back now, I realize it was the only way I could have achieved my independence or had any respect for my own academic achievements. It was a very difficult choice I made but I never regretted it for an instant. As for Alfie, he kept extracting his pound of flesh from me for years thereafter. I paid with my work, the part of me that he found most interesting anyway.
So my darling daughter has completed her MA degree with huge effort and tenacity and I can enjoy her success freely. Mine came with too much baggage to enjoy.
"Sail on my Silver Girl".
Mine didn't come easy either. I was married to Alfie Pinsky when I first wanted to take a Master's Degree in Fine Arts. He had been establishing and building the first MFA program in Canada at Sir George Williams University (now Concordia)and was routinely lauding the achievements of his newly minted MFA graduates while I worked away in my studio preparing for yet another exhibition. In 1967 after "Expo 67" (where I exhibited at Place des Arts), I wanted to take a break and enter the Masters program. Alfie thought that was a bad idea. He felt I should continue sculpting while I had the momentum. I was so tired and isolated but I did what I was told. I stayed in my studio. I had a second great passion - ornithology, and nurtured a dream to take a biology degree, encouraged by Bill Black who was a biology professor and close friend of Alfie's at the time. This too was shot down with advice to stick to what I did best.
One could ask why I listened to him and didn't insist on my own path. It was the sixties and women did still defer to their husbands, but more, I didn't have the confidence to do it without his support. He was the Chair of Fine Arts and I needed his approval to gain admittance to the MFA program, let alone enter a new field entirely. Also, both my parents had died before I was 22 and Alfie was my only family,- mother, father and shrink. I never received any survivor counseling, so I believed my lifeline was my husband. It is sad to reflect that he encouraged such dependence when he should have seen it was also a noose around his neck. I had to leave him completely to get my MFA degree.
We separated in 1969 and I entered Columbia University in New York a year later while he moved a succession of Masters candidates into his bed. Looking back now, I realize it was the only way I could have achieved my independence or had any respect for my own academic achievements. It was a very difficult choice I made but I never regretted it for an instant. As for Alfie, he kept extracting his pound of flesh from me for years thereafter. I paid with my work, the part of me that he found most interesting anyway.
So my darling daughter has completed her MA degree with huge effort and tenacity and I can enjoy her success freely. Mine came with too much baggage to enjoy.
"Sail on my Silver Girl".
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