|Mural of Del Playa on Del Playa, Isla Vista|
After the stair-step emptying of my life over the past several years, it now has pieces missing. Thrift stores and yard sales beckon and I carry home trivia, wondering why.
Five plain, 5x7 oak frames wind up in my basket, only a dollar each. Why? I don’t do frames; I only print on metal. But, there they are. Unwanted potential.
Meanwhile, life settles in my new place. Blank walls call for art that has been tucked away, unseen for too long. What goes where? What computer-stashed pieces yearn for the light?
Measuring and imagining, shapes and color begin to find their places. Those five frames emerge from a back pack, demanding attention, wanting to play with the big guys. I ignore them, stuff them on a shelf, turn my back, go on with my project.
They whimper and I give in and look for a place for them. Nothing. There is no place for five empty frames.
I move on, trying to finish this hanging-of-art, which normally takes a few hours but now has taken on life as a project, requiring a life review of art, and way too many unprinted pieces are clamoring to join the community of color on my walls. Dollar signs are rising to a hazardous level.
Then, a major piece rebels. It doesn’t like where it is, wants to move to a more intimate location. I groan. Nothing else would fill the space. Plus it throws the whole project plan into chaos.
A whisper reminds me of the five neglected frames. Ideas begin to flow … a cluster of small photographs … or inspiring quotes … or interesting questions … or short poems … or …. Stop! I resist. I’m trying to finish this project, not start another one. I so wanted to check off this to do.
And, then I wonder why. Finishing a project only means looking for another one to start. Why am I so focused on finishing? Why don’t I just enjoy the process instead of trying to force a choice, demand action, and move on when moving on simply means starting again? I know the answer ... that new project is always perfect, at least in the beginning. It is all unlimited possibility with none of the sharp edges of reality poking into the vision.
So, I give in and decide to take down the piece that wants to move and hang the five frames that are demanding their space on the wall. Empty. Full of possibility and promise.
Here’s where we are … who knows what’s coming. Maybe I'll just leave them there as a constant reminder of the possibilities of life.