Saturday, 17 December 2011

Between a web of intrigue and a flash of light

Flare not-very-square

Packing up, as I suspected, took all the time available, and by the time I did the last-minute errands (pay the tenants insurance, make a bank run, cruise the duty-free shop in Calgary), I climbed about the red-eye flight to Toronto as exhausted as I've been at any other time this year.

On the way

Not much sleep on the flight either, with the guy next to me who wanted to read his book and kept his light on for most of the flight, and when I boarded the flight to Nassau with my litre-bottle of B&B in hand, I was too wired to even doze off. But with views of the Chesapeake Bay like the one above, who would want to sleep?


Part of the new morning routine is going for a walk: there are no sidewalks here, which is a real impediment to exploring the neighbourhood on my own, so going out on the roads before the traffic gets, ah, exciting, is the only way I'm getting much exercise. One of these afternoons, maybe I'll start swimming lengths of the pool instead.

Throw another conch on the fire

At least the migraine I developed on the flight to Toronto has ceased, although it took several days, and I'm starting to relax. I'd be doing more of that, but the first full day I was here, I met Del Foxton, a papermaker, and expat Canadian, who lives in Freeport but was coming to Nassau for an event, and Kim Smith, another expat Canadian artist and teacher, and over lunch, they persuaded me to submit a proposal for a fibre-themed show here.

Of course, the deadline was noon the next day, so I hastily wrote up a proposal, found a copy of my CV and some images used for previous submissions, and got my entry in on time. Part of my life will be spent doing that for awhile, and I'll have pictures up as I progress....

Wednesday, 7 December 2011


The keys to my tree

Echos abound here.

In every room.

All the art has been pulled from the walls, except for two calendars, put in boxes, and taken to storage.

Bookcases are empty.

Gone, not forgotten

Big Red has been towed away.

Closets are being packed up.

The tent, skis, golf clubs, camping kitchen, and bicycle are gone to storage.

My suitcase, travelling art kit, iPod, and laptop are organized, loaded, charged, tinkered with, and ready to become as disconnected as I am starting to feel.


I'll return to this, which is from the site-specific installation I will work on when I return.


The locates have been done since I shot this picture, measurements taken, and the materials set aside to work on when the days get longer.

Days are amazing, terrifying, too short / long / complex / frustrating.

At least I've quit hyperventilating and freaking out: it will all be packed and moved and done.

Hopefully without having to pull an all-nighter....

Books for Sale

The shop is currently empty.