Great Expectations

I have had some pretty intense expectations for myself this month: I was going to blog every day, use travel as a theme, finish the work for two shows, hang two shows, apply to Portland Open Studios, teach Artmaking as Playful Prayer, work on a bunch of things for my marketing group, start on revising my book, and on and on . . .

Well, let's just say that I haven't exactly met my own expectations. I've managed to miss blogging on 8 of the 16 days this month so far (on the upside, I did blog 8 of the 16 days, and managed to tie most of them to travel - easy, since just about everything connects to travel!). I completely screwed up the deadline for Open Studios (what? they need me to mail the checks? I thought I could fill out the whole thing on-line at the last minute!). I got the shadowbox done for Mad/50, but had yet to finish four pieces by the time I had to go hang the show at CubeSpace. Yesterday afternoon. Oh, and one piece broke on the way over. Uh-huh. So, spent the day finishing up a few pieces. And getting a few pieces ready to finish tomorrow.

I've been letting myself down. I still haven't moved my database and my newsletters into Constant Contact. I haven't updated my website in a few weeks. I have a to-do list as long as my arm. But damn, even though I didn't finish everything, I had a great time in the studio last week! And the Mad/50 install went really well . . . I really like the way it looks in the space, even though I really wasn't sure about it at first . . .


There won't be an official "opening party," but I encourage you to take a walk in SE Portland and visit - maybe drop by MUSE at 4224 SE Hawthorne for some art supplies, then jog up a few blocks to Madison and 50th to see the shadowbox installation.


But oh boy, expectations are dangerous. I almost didn't enjoy myself in the studio because I was so busy beating myself up for what I wasn't getting done. I forgot for a moment to listen to what I was working on and what I really wanted . . . This happens, too, when I start a piece sometimes . . . I have too many expectations for what the piece is supposed to look like ("Oh, it'll be brilliant!" or "It must work in this particular space" or "Oh this piece is going to be about blah") and I forget to pay attention to what the piece is telling me.

It's sort of like being on vacation and getting so caught up in the fact that the shower runs on salt water, and that the airline lost your luggage, and that breakfast only includes toast and forgetting to look out the window and see the ocean. Glowing.

Maybe I'll just let go of the expectations. For a little while.