February 16th I was in Taos and made a little pilgrimage to the closed and empty gallery. It remains difficult and sad: the closing of the gallery space, the loss of a contemporary tapestry gallery of which there isn't another, the loss of income in the process, and the manner in which the gallery was closed.
I feel more grief about this than perhaps I should. After all, it meant I got part of a body of work returned to me from which I can build a complete set of pieces to approach another gallery. There will be new opportunities, of that I am sure. I think I miss the idea of Weaving Southwest... of the vibrant idea that Rachel Brown had about art and craft in northern New Mexico and I feel all of that is gone with the closing of the last remnants of her work... and with her death.
I found out yesterday that a friend of mine from years ago in another city was diagnosed with severe breast cancer last week--so bad that she had surgery immediately upon diagnosis and is already on chemotherapy. She is in her mid-thirties and has little kids. She is an OT and a physician. She is a vibrant and amazing woman. She may die from this. Life is unpredictable and news like this reminds me again to live a life of gratitude and compassion.
The closing of a gallery is a small blip in the scheme of a life. And an empty space invites new breath and new ideas. I hope as I move forward I can remember this each day.