I have finally succumbed to my current studio process's plasticity and allowed it to change shape. It merely took three years "recovering" from a TBI+, being a security guard 24 hours a day, a recent visit to the ER, and a sabbatical for a show that never happened.
It took "having nothing left"- total exhaustion.
It took 60 days of "space" from my day-job.
It took full overwhelm of the crisis-of-my home.
It took full acceptance of my new brain.
It took being told I needed a vacation.
It took me taking one.
Nervous system still fried.
And then, heading everywhere else but home, week after week.
~Hawaii, Seattle, Whidbey, Vashon, New York, Michigan, Mexico, Dayton, Seattle, more~
It took a traveling studio- beaches, Tompkins, bars, rooftops, Mexico, baby-side, mountain kitchen, a lovers bed, every airplane.
It took feeling unanchored and nowhere, for one year, in my home.
It took leaving.
In the same way, my Grandma Lou died and what Jerry fought-off last year, it took an experiential scare of "that" illness.
I was sick. I am sick.
~ER, midnight, alone, another MRI, nurse from NOLA at Swedish Cherry Hill, jokes to ease me, raw, sterile light, flashbacks of Misha by my side 3.10.2018 Harbourview, end of night go back home, “cant pass out cuz no one will find me”, tears, fear, threats from 118 RV, endless~
Limit stress, he says.
Well joke-making travel nurse, I don’t have that option.
It took all these "it tooks" to take place in the last three months.
It took all the "it tooks" of the last 3 years,... not listed.
Kept drawing. Still drawing.
Turns out brains are plastic.
And hearts too.
Three years of seeking with the words, "my Art-processor is broken".
Turns out, my processor just... shut down.
Below is documentation of semi-free associative drawings and the places I fled to, and drew.
- without needing to lift and haul with my body.
No more solo site-specific installation- one that would been the first show since my accident. Canceled.
All drawings scribbled in the same "despicable" media used in high school.
Ball point pen.
This transition of installation to "just drawing"...... and accepting it, has offered a visceral, primal comfort.
Sabbatical is over.
Just drawing everywhere-all-the-time.
Accepting it all.
For more about Mad Art and Meg Hartwig, visit the website: https://madartseattle.com/artists/meg-hartwig/
Laurie Anderson has been forever inspiring to me. Since the first time I listened to “Oh Superman” on the CD I rented from the Ann Arbor Public Library, to the last time I fell asleep post “one of those carpenter days,” beer in hand, at Grand Illusion Cinema watching Heart of a Dog for the second time that week. “The Beginning of Memory” holds words I have listened to over-and-over again this last year and three-quarters, and I am still listening.