I am sitting in the Minneapolis Airport a bit disappointed in their art collection. In fact, their collection does not appear to exist. For such a progressive city, this is disappointing. When I traveled through here on my way to the Crow Barn, I did see this lovely tile mosaic. There was no name plate for the artist or title of work, but I did take a picture.
While I wait to board a plane for the land of mountains, darkness, and family, I thought I would do a little airport reflection on my time at the Crow Barn.
It all feels pretty raw right now. The first week was full of sadness. I am still not quite sure what happened that week. Maybe I never will be. It took me by surprise and made me cry.
You might not know this if you have never attended a Nancy Crow workshop, but crying is part of the process. Nancy has never said this out loud, but it seems to me that she feels that when we are vulnerable–as in crying in front of a couple of dozen people–we are also in a state of creativity. We are exposed and only have a couple of choices available. We can run and hide. Or we can look more closely at our essential selves.
When I am faced with this choice, my initial response is anger. What the buck? I’ve already shown you all I have got, and you still want more? My next response is to stitch something–this calms me, clears my head, makes me feel good. I go to my sewing machine and work. I cut and iron and sew a million pieces of cloth together until it all starts to make sense.
Followed by crying, sleepless nights, and travel.