Work in Progress

Stills from Keeper of the Furniture. [video]

When worlds collide. Tomorrow is a big day. 58 boxes of fine goods and several sticks of furniture will leave my presence. I won't bore you with the minutiae. It's been a 5-year struggle. It's not over, but I can see an opening. I have a love/hate relationship with antiques and china, and have pitted my art career against the niceties of life, constantly hedging my bets on which will pay off in the end. I have made mistakes on both accounts, and I am tired. 

Chantal Akerman's life work and recent suicide has stuck with me. Gnawing at me is more like it. I've been reading and re-reading texts about her, her own writings, and I can't get through a paragraph without being inspired. Pages are dog-eared from years of reference as though I was hoping my thumbprint would pick up some of her brilliance. Her films and writings have re-ignited an insistence to make a difference. Damn the status quo and popular consensus. It's a great loss when people you hold the creative torch for take their own lives. I'm grateful for her work and the people who have written about her.


I packed and repacked boxes. When I ran out of boxes, I figured that was a good stopping point. I had hesitated for so long thinking there was more art to be made, ALWAYS more art to be made. Useful props, stories to tell. Stuff and more stuff. But truthfully, it wasn't the stuff, you know. Or at least I hope someone figured that out. You can never tell here.

In a send-off to the furniture, I worked on a video. Pulling together disparate elements I may have figured out  how to unite my writing and art together visually. It feels right.  If so, it's a beautiful thing and I'll be in fertile ground. If not, I'll be happy to keep digging.