I have the utmost admiration and love for the wonderful organizers of the Sacred Threads show. Lisa Ellis and Christine Adams and their committee (darling Vivian, Annabelle, Carol, Bunny, Barbara, and oh dear my memory loses the rest but I SEE your faces) bring respect, reverence, love and joy to the efficiency and organization that both hung and struck this magnificent display of fine art. You gals are awesome. The show in the words of a generation: Epic.
Tear down has brought me a sadness in the last two shows. But not this time knowing that the show will go on. Instead I rolled up my sleeves and Travis and I powered through the tear down. We were assisted in key moments by Patrick, the facilities manager, whom I saw hovering on the edges respectfully but still wondering if I could help Travis handle the steel beams and the plywood ceilings. Travis assured him I am solid. I am, but I am still limited in my physique so I am grateful that Patrick lent his muscles for a few moments saving me from who knows what.
There are always a few moments before the strike when I take myself through the spiral walking in love once more. Feeling the hearts of those who created the panels and savoring the peace inside, taking a few more photos as this will not be the same ever again. Travis, a professional photographer, will share some of his photos with the blog once he is back from his long journey driving across the country. This quiet is then followed by the relentless pacing as panels are removed, spiral taken down bolt by bolt by screw by turnbuckle by ladders by lighting retrieved and sweat and a few bumps on the head and more sweat and the heat and cicada serenade outside in the trailer for the repacking of precious cargo carefully rolled and wrapped to protect form the dirt of the road and this run on sentence could tell you of the pacing as we do not stop until it is finished. My plane created the deadline and I was grateful to have a ride to the airport from Annabelle with a little time to spare leaving Travis in the broiling heat of the parking lot strapping the steel beams to the top of the trailer, a last event before he hit the road, happy to be on his away in solitude once again.
I love the way a show transforms a space, the definition of installation, the magic this dance of construction created for all of those who would come to experience art. For the White Room of the Walking in Love Spiral to have found a place nestled in the middle of so many generously open and exquisite art pieces was a rare gift. Thank you Sacred Threads and all the artists and sponsors who who made it happen.