Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Just sitting in a Gallery



Whilst with my Arts Installation, I wrote this in my little book and thought I would share it with you ...

There's something very magical about 'just sitting in a Gallery'

Today the snow has started to fall again, everyone is struggling back to school and work on the icey roads, So, the heady numbers of yesterday's launch have vanished like the vapour of my frost bitten breath as it fades into the snowflaked air.

... and yet the peace and calm I feel right now in this very moment, is almost more emotional than any other moment.

This is new to me: bathing in the end product of my creativity.

As a singer songwriter/musician, even within theatre productions, community plays and directorship, I feel very different to this. It is momentary, almost transient- a snatch of time for an hour or so of intense performance, like a water shoot roller coaster ride, literally, where the carriage runs up the hill in anticipation, then charges down the tracks; we're all screaming, with our hands held in the air. Then we hit the water shoot at the bottom - this is the performance, the water droplets spraying beautifully, cascading waterfalls of intense joy, yet gone almost before it has arrived, leaving us with only a snapshot memory.

 

This experience here, today, is more akin to a glorious hazy sunny afternoon on a gondola, watching water slowly ripple. Stopping only to soak the sun into my face, trailing my fingers in the warm waters, closing my eyes as the boat glides gentley, welcoming the slow lap of the waters, an unknown journey of quiet, calm and peace.

I didn't know it would feel like this to have my
own intallation.

I didn't know the joy I must have brought to so many artists in facilitating them to do this.
 

 


For me, I thought it was about enabling the sharing of  beautiful stories through different creative platforms so the world could enjoy them, but now as 'the artist' I can sense a feeling of self, of wholeness. I understand that feeling now, sat here alone, on a cold snow filled Monday morning.

The slate floor of the Gallery spreads before me like a map of all the feet that have walked upon it. The wooden beams above me do not strain under the extra weight snowed upon the roof tiles. The linnen draped windows hang with a slithered peep hole, to draw the lightness of the clouds into my soul.

I didn't know.
But now ...
Now I do.

I'll be here all week if you feel like coming to the Garden to join me in this quiet stillness to share the calm, between 11am and 12pm. It's free entry.

I reckon Thursday will be the day when I climb back on the roller coaster, somewhat reluctantly it has to be said, to start the build up to the BIG LAUNCH on Saturday 26th January.

No doubt the children of Bigyn and Johnstown Primary Schools who are rehearsing, will be excited and nervous, just as they would be waiting in that fairground queue.

I will focus this week on my immense sense of self and if I can retain and share this inner peace on the 26th, I will have grown as an artist ... and as a person.

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