Nga mihi nui to fellow artists and art lovers.
I have been in my workshop shed in Te Aroha surrounded by machines, dust extractors and the wonderful smell on honey, since Level Three began. The safety issues, involved with level Four, prohibited any earlier entry back to work. I did walk over to the workshop each day, during Level Four, and carried out a programme of cleanup and maintenance. Such a good feeling to see everything in order, all ready to go.
I’ve never had such a good time financially as I completed two commissions and back payments started to roll in. I can never count on this happening, I never know when or where it comes from and like my beehive palette my income seems to be a little haphazard. I can never plan on this income, or raise my expectations. Sometimes the skinny man sings!
Lockdown bestowed an unexpected gift to me in the form of music. I found out one of immediate neighbours sings really well and plays a guitar,also another neighbour plays drum seriously, so we formed a band ,keeping our distance of course. We are looking for a name, that suggests old people, lockdown and revival.
Musicians, artists need to keep working on their passions then something wonderful will happen.
My advice, do the Mahi.
Just wanted to send you a message to wish you well and hope you are managing to find some sanity in this crazy time.
Take care and I look forward to seeing you all on the other side!
We were due to move to a new town the weekend after the lockdown began but something told me in the weeks leading up that we should hurry and move sooner. It felt paranoid at the time. Earlier, just the week before, none of this was on our radar. But we did it, the Friday before, running all over Wellington collecting trademe furniture and whiteware, then driving it up to our new house. We started to get settled then the level 3/4 was announced and so my husband drove back to Wellington, stuffed the station wagon with the last of our belongings and the teenagers crammed in there, too. It felt like they came crashing home at almost midnight on the Monday night, falling across the finishing line, chased by baddies, slaying the final boss on the last level of the game. We lay in bed that night feeling waves of relief that we were safe and together. So we are 7, here in a much larger house, happily safe and sound for the lockdown.
But that definitely poses it’s own demands and constraints that aren’t always that conducive to painting. I was accustomed to the school day freedom of being only with my own thoughts and paintbrushes for 5 hours a day. Now with the house bustling and an active chattering five year old, priorities had to change. I’ve managed to get one painting finished and another well on the way. But the quiet required for flow has been hard to come by.
I’ve been wondering how life as an artist will look over the next little while. My solo in Feb/March, which I’d been painting for 6 months to prepare, was definitely affected. Foot traffic was down, final expected sales didn’t come through. And all the shows lined up for the rest of the year either cancelled or moved online will change the trajectory somewhat.
Personally, I’m welcoming the changes this disruption brings. I don’t want to undermine the pressures and pain some people are going through but there are always upsides in any kind of change. Perhaps we become more locally focussed in our spending. Perhaps we travel less and spend more time with our families. Working from home may become a permanent option for some. Growing food and foraging could replace a portion of long travelled food. Slowing down has given us time to think, to breathe, to just be. And on a whole, I like it. It feels wholesome, reasonable, considered. Life in the city for me was compressed, loud, lip-biting anxiety. And that’s something I won’t be rushing back to now I’ve seen a different way of being.