I’m the King of Jubilee Jumbles

artist Nayland Blake natters on about art and other things

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Yesterday’s therapy was odd. For most of the session I was pouring words into the empty space, recounting grievances, fears, the petty flotsam that covered the surface of the deep weariness I was feeling.

At a certain point my therapist mentioned that some people have a hard time processing their grief. This enabled me to go on a tear about the behavior of the people that I had been talking about who in my opinion had been imposing their grief on my mother. More time went by. After about ten more minutes of me talking he said: When I said that about some people and grief, I wasn’t talking about them.

I looked at him quizzically.

I was talking about you.

Which pulled me up short just about in time for the session to be over.

Today has been another long day of crisis management at work, and at the end of it I had a dinner date with an artist who I do not know well at all but who I suspect a mutual sympathy with. It was the first time that we have spent any real time together. As we filled each other in on our separate backgrounds, I found myself relaying the story of the last few years, my increasing frustration with the behavior of my New York Gallery, my swaddling myself in work drama, the slowdown in my working. In the telling one thing began to stand out. When I lost Philip, I lost my deepest ear, the person who knew the most about my work, who had seen the most of it and whose response I craved. I transfered the desire for that onto Matthew. In addition achieving what I did at my last show with him meant another kind of death, a death of ambition. Being rebuffed by them on that score stung and turned me inward. I’ve been searching for another ear, another witness. And struggling through my grief.


Written by naylandblake

February 27, 2007 at 11:56 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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