It is December 29th 2023. We are in the last few days of the year when things feel dreamlike and a bit unclear. I found a few descriptions of this time before the new year as Liminal Space and realized how much I live in that space as an artist.
lim·i·nal
/ˈlimənəl/
TECHNICAL
- occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.
- relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
As I plan for my year ahead, lining up which shows and festivals I will create pieces for, I visualize a body of work.
It is a moment of decision and trepidation. I build and design out of wisps of thought and idea. Cloudlike ephemeral designs, some far grander in scope than I’ve created before. I juggle shards of humor and deep mournful stories, pulling a thread, attempting to discard a ridiculous idea only to have it flutter up beating its wings insistently against my cheek. All of this occurs at the edges of my consciousness.
I’m still bidding the last year farewell, still tucking away the lessons I’ve learned and a new one is tap tapping at my front windows, whispering loudly enough that I can’t ignore it but indistinct enough that I can’t quite focus on what it is offering.
