For about three months I've been trying to explore the current "art world" to get some sense of how I might relate to it. Partly this is for practical purposes. Am I ready to do a campaign to attract galleries to show my vessel sculptures? Or do I need to develop this current series further? Or am I five or ten years away from showing in any "serious" gallery?
My exploration is about more than that, though. For many years I've felt the ground slipping out from under my feet. Where do I belong in the world? Most of the time I can maintain my faith that I do indeed belong in this world - somewhere, somehow. But exactly where? How? Most of this remains a mystery.
This also makes it challenging to sustain hope. Today I came across an interesting article on hope among artists. It's called "The Slippery Slope of Hope," by John Link. I find it curiously encouraging.
I remember myself as a teenage mother, reading F. Scott Fitzgerald and then writing a short poem about the distinction between hope and faith. Hope is a rather sorry substitute. I've forgotten my poem, but I think I concluded that hope led to despair. Writing from postpartum depression and the daily washing of diapers by hand, boiling them on the stove? I don't think so. I think I was correct. Hope is a sorry substitute for faith.
2:01:37 PM 
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