Overcoming The Autumn of Distractions

"Autumn" is a smooth word that conjures up images of postcard trees and cool days, a season that slides into the cold, snowy calm of winter.   The other name for this season, "Fall", is sometimes more fitting.  In "Fall", the environment is closing down and shedding all non-essentials.  In "Fall" the earth is busy cleaning house. Those leaves that were needed for spring and summer are discarded by wind and fierce rain.  Of course, just like when one begins to clean out a closet, the result is piles and more piles.  I'm not even talking about raked leaf piles; the leaves in my neighborhood are shed in such gargantuan quantities that they pile themselves all over the ground in a thick, messy carpet.  I crackle loudly as I try to slip quietly out to the mailbox without my dog noticing.  I develop an intense craving for clarity and order.

Whirlwind, ©JoyKreves

 Every year September finds me inspired for innumerable house, social, and art projects.  I am reading at least 10 books at a time, daydreaming of happy gatherings, holidays and family celebrations to come.  Then, by early November, I start to feel as if turning all those daydreams into real plans would be a burdensome project I might not be up to.  As the leaves mount and get dragged into the house with every entrance by person or dog, I begin to feel that I've lost my handle on things.  Fall is just too messy, too full.  The flurry of dry leaves is actually a perfect metaphor for my state of mind.  I am convinced that one's mind, one's body, and one's environment are integrally related.

Homesick Brain, ©JoyKreves'11

Scattered around outside are leaves and fallen branches, but scattered in the dining room are notes with possible Thanksgiving recipes to make, birthdays to remember to acknowledge (GOD, I know a lot of Scorpios), and postcards for events to attend.  There are phone numbers for friends to visit post-surgeries, and in the bedroom, piles of out of season clothes to put away.  There are two piles being assembled for donation, and another for holiday gifts.  In my studio are new artworks that haven't found exhibits or homes yet, and pieces of others that need finishing.  There are plants that had to be brought in from the colder nights but which I really  have no room for.  Around November I realize that I have accomplished very little of my plans.  Sometimes, I just feel distracted!

I'm So Distracted Today, ©JoyKreves

Several art shows are the core around which all the other stuff swirls:
 
Currently, I have work at the ArtTimesTwo Gallery, in a four-person exhibit curated by artist Madelaine Shellaby, "Interior Design:  The Brain and Spine in Art", now on view by appointment (http://www.arttimestwo.com) through March 2012.  The gallery is at The Princeton Brain and Spine Care Institute, 731 Alexander Rd, suite 200, Princeton, NJ.

My sculpture "Beautiful Life" is in an exhibit at the picturesque Hunterdon Museum of Art, 7 Lower Center St., Clinton, NJ, through January 7, 2012.

The Beautiful Life, ©JoyKreves'10

In December I will have a number of pieces at The D&R Greenway Land Trust gallery's "Textures & Trails" exhibit curated by Diana Moore, including some of my jewelry.

Essence of Bluejay, ©JoyKreves '08

I am especially excited about the opportunity to exhibit "Transported" there, my new mixed media piece there that incorporates some of the paper I made in the workshop with Judy Toby this past summer. 

Transported, ©JoyKreves'11

In JANUARY I'll be delivering three pieces to The George Segal Gallery at Montclair State University, 1 Normal Ave., Montclair, New Jersey, for the juried "Art Connections 8" show.
I'm also excited about completing a new three dimensional waterfall painting, out of acrylic and watercolor on ceramic and wood.  I have too many other ideas cooking to keep track of.

You just cannot stop the onslaught of swirling leaves, and you cannot stop the myriad of exquisite activities and concerts beckoning your attention.  You must not stop your creative flow, either, even as you turn off those outside faucets for the winter.  You've got to keep creating, or at least refining, as the trees poke their newly bare twigs into the uncluttered air of late autumn.  You've got to get a handle on the coming winter.

Today I visited a friend with a great tale of mind/body connectedness.  A poet, she hadn't been able to write for a long time, due to her muse being blocked by pain.  She needed surgery, which she had a couple of days ago.  Well she wrote not one, but five poems while in the hospital!  Uncorked by the diminished pain, her muse flew back into action in spite of the less than inspiring hospital environment.  It was a wonderful thing for me to see her whole being rejoicing in the return of the creative spirit which is her core.  Now mid-November, my muse seems to be just starting to settle into sharper focus, where I hope she'll stay through the winter holidays and breaks, to give me a handle on the coming winter.  I'm reaching for her fingers in the clearing air of late autumn.