I might have been more traumatized than I thought I was by Hurricane Maria. This morning I had a slight urge to go through my ephemera, or rather what was left of it, and got somewhat excited as I riffled through it. I have been waiting and waiting for the muse to find me, and I thought maybe she had, but she didn't hang around. I couldn't get going. I have some ideas, but I just couldn't be bothered. The memory of the Little Old House and the 4 friends who revitalized it, the thought of all it could have become, the visual and olfactory memory of the destruction of everything in the Gallery, and still, one year later, the sight of the damaged house, materials and art supplies, warped paper, and the hairless brushes that survived didn't help and just knocked me out. What would I do with what I make anyway? I guess I'll wait some more and blame it on Maria, the heat, and lack of space. I could do something if I really wanted to, but creative apathy has set in.
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| Mait, Lene, Loni, Marian |
