sometimes, looking at artwork i have made is like looking in a mirror. it reflects who i was an the moment or moments that i made it, reveals parts of who i am that i cannot always see clearly otherwise.
so when i see complete stangers... a couple dozen of them... experiencing my artwork. i get a little nervous. it is like that naked dream where you show up at school and suddenly realize that you have no clothes on. as delighted as i was that people actually showed up at the opening of unFound last night, i felt panicked, vulnerable and exposed. it got better as the evening wore on, and i found myself more and more comfortable. but, it was perhaps the hardest part of the whole art process.
as brad noticed these feelings, my squeamish-ness, he asked what was with that. "isn't showing it to people the whole point?"
maybe. mayne not. isn't making art the whole point? or is it like the tree that falls in the forest... if no one is there to hear it, does it not make a noise? if the art is made but not shown, is it not art?
no matter, unFound was made and shown. a new part of the journey begins.
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