In Between
I've been thinking a lot about transitions these past weeks, as I have made the seasonal transition between Greensboro (where the Green Rabbit Gallery has its summer home) and my winter home in South Burlington. Only 90 minutes apart, they are a world of difference in so many aspects of daily life. Each is wonderful in its own way, and I am so lucky to be able to call two such beautiful places "home." But this fall I have found the transition much more difficult, and I have been thinking about why that is.
In parish ministry I developed and led a workshop for women called "Loving the Hallways." It was looking at transitions in our lives, and I took the title from a wonderful quote from somewhere that I had known for decades: "I know God never closes one door without opening another, but it's hell in the hallways."
Hallways are liminal spaces -- spaces In Between. Between the known past and the unknown future. Between who we are in one life situation and who we are in another. Between what we have left behind or taken with us, and what we wish to bring into our lives as we move forward. Our lives -- in each moment -- are a series of never-ending transitions from and to, yet there are times when the transitions are so big they take all of our attention and energy.
I'm not saying the seasonal move between homes is like a major life transition! But it is a transition from settledness to chaos (as my garage and rooms are filled with unpacked tote bags and boxes) and hopefully back to settledness again or even a slightly different kind of settledness. Moving my entire studio is discombobulating -- the photo today is my studio in its current state. I don't even want to THINK of organizing it until I reduce the chaos of clothes, pet stuff, pantry and kitchen in the rest of the condo -- it feels like all of that has to get settled before I can give full-hearted attention to being creative again.
And how is this a reflection of Life and Art (the title of this blog)? Art to me, in all its forms, is about bringing something into creation which did not exist before. Something absolutely unique to me that will never come into being if I don't do it or make it happen. Having that creative energy does require the ability to focus, to not be distracted by everything else that must be given attention in our lives. There are seasons for everything. Seasons when that focus is possible and available, and other times when it is not. But my goal is to move as quickly as I can through this "hallway" season and move into that next new place where once again I can allow the art which is in me the time and energy to come forth.
This might be complicated by the fact that my next post will come during another temporary transition later this month -- when I am in the southwest of France -- Bordeaux and the Perigord. I hope to be able to share with you reflections on some of the incredible art and architecture -- Neanderthal cave paintings, Toulouse Lautrec, a 9th century underground church - that we will see!
Elizabeth
I love this column, Elizabeth, and I especially love the.photo of your Burlington studio. It’s gorgeous! I love the colorful rug and the amazing light. I see no mess at all! I had to scroll back to the photo to see what you were writing about. What a glorious space!
I can relate! Love the quote and focus on transitions – between the changing weather patterns and the upcoming elections, we are all in the hallway.
Have a wonderful trip!
Thanks, Elizabeth, for the thoughtful reflections. Is that poster on your wall really ann”The Episcopalian”? Enjoy your travels in France. Nice to get away from all the political noise just now.