between

We are between jobs again.  The most recent, four small windows, is set to be installed on Tuesday and the deposit for the big window behind the altar of the chapel (JWUMC) has not arrived.  I like being between jobs because it allows me some days off and a chance to do more than just work...like clean house, catch up on paper work, run all those errands I’ve put off.

Wait a minute, that’s starting to sound just like more work.

What I mean is, being between jobs doesn’t really bother me as long as it doesn’t last too long.  ‘Too long’ depends on how big the previous job was.  I’m used to this state of affairs although accepting it is always a work in progress.  We are equal parts confident, hopeful and fatalistic.  At this time of our lives going out and ‘getting a real job’ is sort of out of the cards.  Not only because of our age but also because of our unwillingness to submit to that kind of an environment.  

As if corporate America would even give aging hippie artists a glance.  

Our more likely avenue of employment is more on the lines of fast food and big box.  Somehow that doesn’t sound very appealing.  So we trust in the Universe and our reputations.  We just try to get through every day and leave tomorrow for tomorrow.

Not a very mature attitude one might think.  

We are also between houses.  We bought the country house two years ago this coming September.  The first year we were so busy getting ready for our one person show and then getting out all the commission work that came in.  We spent the weekends there working on the house.  This second year, we are stuck by our funding woes for getting the new shop built, stuck between paying off the debt that has accumulated the past several years and the need to build the new workspace.  Until we can work, do all parts of the work, out there, we can’t move completely.  We have to go in the city to work.  Two years of this has gotten tiresome.

Faith?  Remember?  Faith in the Universe?

Yeah, yeah, I remember.  It just gets out of focus sometimes.

And I am between artistic mediums.  About 6 years ago, I changed my focus to the pate de verre work.  At the time I was so tired of the commission work and I really wanted to try and ‘make it’ as a gallery artist.  We were having some success, minimal success.  Last year was so promising...the new house, the one man show, a gallery showing our work at SOFA Chicago for the 3rd year in a row.  We’d been a steady shower at two important international gallery shows for the last 5 years.  And then the bottom dropped out of America.  

Right when we were poised to take off.

Right when we thought we would finally get the financial payback.  Not only for ourselves but for the gallery who has been promoting our work.  Although he has sold a few pieces for us, our sales don’t fall in the ‘take these people’s work to the big shows because they are good sellers’ category.  So far, he has not shown our work in two of the three shows that happen this year.  I don’t blame him at all.  There are galleries that are closing because they have lost their collector base.

So I am discouraged.  I am suffering artist’s envy.  Not only has it been nearly a year that I have done any pate de verre work, I’m not feeling any burning desire to do some.  I mean, I still want to do it but racking up more debt traveling to these shows and then suffering the show with no sales is not high on my 'to do' list.  In one sense, I am relieved that I’m not traveling this year.  But on the other I feel like I’m getting kicked out of the major leagues.  Busted down to the minors.  

I know, I know.  Faith.

Maybe I’m just tired.