Reinvent
To invent again something that has already been invented.
To adapt into a different form; to give a new style or image to.
He had the ability to reinvent himself as needed.
“As needed,” I reckon, is key here. It’s a phrase that has been made so very clear to me over the past summer, and, I suspect, will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Losing your spouse/partner/lover/co-conspirator of fifty years is as strong an “as needed” as you can get. To say that I need to re-establish myself on this earth as something more than just an oxygen-breathing, donut and coffee consuming mammal, is a massive understatement. Most days are a fluctuating dose of emptiness and numbness. Little by little, I search for…I don’t know what I search for, actually. That’s the rub. David Byrne would sing, “I’m on the road to nowhere” about this recovery. Just waiting for a glimmer on the horizon to aim for.
Luckily, I am not alone by any means. You simply cannot do it alone, no matter how independent a person you are. It takes a tribe, community, a congregation, if you will, to enable and support a rebuilding project as complicated and sacred as one’s self. And it takes time. Time that you cannot control. Time that is relentless in it’s methodology. Time that gathers the proper ingredients, determines the recipe, and ultimately gifts to you the new person. That person will be built on the remnants of the damaged one, resourcing the renewable pieces, reinforcing and restoring as needed. (A shitload of the suffix “RE” here, huh? - it’s a theme.)
Notre Dame’s new spire underway, 2022
As I wrote in my last post, my studio life has been approached with trepidation, patience and caution. My time in the studio feels like exercising when you hadn’t been to the gym for a few years. Lots of stumbles, consternation and pissedoffedness. No heavy lifting. Light calisthenics. But, I tried to stay with it, and I’m still showing up.
And, I’m beginning to sense a shift. I’m quicker to approach the easel, exploring with more verve and purpose, and spending longer periods of time in my holy space. It’s good, I think. But, it’s funny, I cannot bring myself to sign anything, even if I’m relatively satisfied with the results. It doesn’t feel right.
So I don’t. And I will wait it out until I’m told that whatever new person is making this stuff is ready to own up to it. I’m hopeful.
Haaken’s Boathouse - Severin “Sig” Haines
RIP - Sig Haines
There’s been too many losses in my life lately, but I would be remiss not to pay tribute to one of my beloved teachers at Swain School of Design - Sig Haines - who passed away this summer. Sig was an inspiring teacher and wonderful friend who will be missed by everyone who’s life he touched. His landscape paintings of both Southcoast and of his native Norway are precise, quietly compelling and stunning. I was lucky to have been tutored by such a wonderful human. RIP, indeed.
Fit for a King or a Klown - Adirondack Chair handcrafted from Reclaimed Cedar by Ethan Swann
And One More Thing…
Check out my beautiful, comfortable “deck throne” made and gifted to me by my son, Ethan for my birthday. The coffee rings on the armrests are just getting underway. Thanks, my boy, you’re a prince!