I am teetering on the edge, somewhere between elation and heartbreak. This letter is late this week because I was hoping to have a different story to tell. Sadly, I don’t have the happy ending I want, so I am sharing what I have.
The Seagrass Walk opens tomorrow. It is the most important moment in my career. My first solo show at a major museum. It is going to be seen by more people than anything else I have ever made. I’ve been working so hard, and I am so proud of it. I cannot wait for it to open.
Tomorrow night, at 6pm, I will be in the aquarium ready to welcome all the folks who are coming to the opening night, ready to watch as people visit The Seagrass Walk for the first time.
Heartbreakingly, a major element of my work will not be there. It hasn’t arrived in time. A screw up with the freight company means it is stuck somewhere on route and no one can tell me where it is. I put so much time and attention into creating a fully immersive space, a space in which every element of my artwork comes together to create something whole. And now it won’t be whole for the opening.
The light art pieces, which were made in South Africa by an incredible company, won’t be there. I’ve spent a lot of the last two weeks refreshing the tracking app, wanting to curl up into a ball and weep.
But I have also spent it travelling back and forth to Plymouth, hanging my photographs, getting the projector set up, and putting up vinyl lettering. Every time I am there the space is transformed a little more, shifting from a corridor in an aquarium, to a gallery. It takes my breath away.
And then I want to weep again, because I know how much better it will look, when the light art is in place, and I wish I could share it in full on the opening night. I am still trying to make that happen even though I know it is too late.
I am teetering on the edge, trying to tip myself into joy, even as I allow space for my sadness. I am trying to embrace what is there, what I can share, and to step into enjoying the celebration tomorrow night.
I will let you all know how it goes.
Life is not meant to be easy, is it? But as we learn to 'navigate', we become stronger..... as you are now, coping with this very distressing delay. My arms, he heart, my love are there holding you, supporting you, my 'super-duper' grand-daughter!
My dear Rosie, ..... coming from an artist family (my father & his mother), and having lived with one (my ex boyfriend) for 12 years .... I have seen this happen before .... & my heart literally breaks for you .... may the Peace that passes all understanding .... somehow find its way to you ..... this is really about YOU .... & the Universe wants you to know ...... you are a complete Star ...... all is well. Blessings be & much love from Mexico. xxxx