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.