It comes, bidden or not, subtle or with a sudden jolt. The choices one can make to cope with it are to resist mightily, passively let it carry you along, or try to find the sparkle within the catalyst.
My sudden jolt arrived last week when I discovered that the Park, after years of trying to get a budget approval to remodel the interior of their Visitor Center has suddenly had it granted. Because of this, they have requested that I wait until next year to deliver the tapestry, which will most likely be end of summer or early autumn.
Because Grand National Park is a government entity, any project that would change their budget needs must be approved. The government fiscal year ends at the end of September, so new budgets go into effect at the beginning of October. Since the Park on the North Rim closes in late October (heavy winter snows make it inaccessible), work on the Visitor Center cannot begin until the Park reopens in mid-May 2013. Which means that the Visitor Center will be no place for a textile until the remodeling dust settles, hence the rescheduled delivery date. Sigh.
Shock & dismay was quickly followed by optimism. One of my personal mantras has always been “everything happens for a reason”, so even when I am disappointed by an unexpected turn of events, I try to look for the sparkle.
I have come to feel this change is for the best, especially since the Park is trying to make sure the redo incorporates an optimal display setting for my condor. The original goal for the remodel was to showcase other residency artists' work, long stored away in the recesses of the Park’s museum, so my condor will also be in some pretty fancy company, as any diva would desire.
As of this writing, the woven height is between 8 to 8.5 feet. All that remains is nearly 2 feet of feathers & sky. For the sky, I have chosen the unfathomable blue that makes its appearance here in the desert during spring & autumn…crisp, fresh & vivid, hard to describe with a color name, but those of you who live in the desert or have visited during those times know it. The background cliffs, which are the very last landforms, were rendered in a brighter value than the buttes, & the weft bundles manipulated to allow the darkest strands of wool to appear as subtle lines in the weave. Although it may seem that cliffs so very far away would have no features & be quite drab in color, because of their sheer verticalness some lithic features are usually still discernible. When the desert sun reaches a certain afternoon slant, it mellows the Canyon’s gorges & recesses, but the distant cliffs will suddenly incandesce as if on fire for a brief time. Canyonglow.
So while the feverish pitch of weaving has been tempered a bit, I am determined to finish her this fall. It's time for us both to be set free.