Yesterday the Gallery show I'm participating in was hung. I was pleased that there weren't many greeting cards on sale, and my mixed media postcards certainly held their own. Some were even given space on a short plinth, and my larger pieces fit in well with work from the 3 other participants. This has been such a struggle for me to envision and physically create, when my health ahs been un-predicable for most of the past year. This show was originally planned for May 2020, and was cancelled because of the critical Covid lockdown.
Today, the government announced much more stringent restrictions that will undoubtedly close the gallery and cancel the show yet again.
This morning, my husband helped me make some very difficult decisions about older work--primarily items that had been made during the years I participated in shows/sales of art work, and those associated items that actually paid the bills. I had quite a few items that were left after a few dismal sales, and helped spur the decision to no longer participate in such events. These items represented a fair financial investment, but one that will never be recovered. They filled large laundry basket, and my heart broke, as I watched my husband drive away with them, headed toward a thrift store donation.
To say that I'm devastated would be an understatement. In the studio I have a work table covered with the first step of the postcards that other show participants had suggested I submit. I had also ordered online, and paid for, supplies for finishing them. No point in carrying on now.
I can't even cry. I just sit here and feeling sorry for myself, and wondering what my future might hold. I don't see any doors or windows opening right now.
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