As always, we are saved by the generosity of our friends and the commitment of the studio staff. But the whole process is just another reminder of how strangely unglamorous and messy the whole process is. When Steven and I are both cleaned up at an unveiling or other fancy event and a new acquaintance rhapsodizes about how blessed Steven is to have this amazing talent I often flash back to these moment when we are both too tired too speak straight and everyone including the dog is covered in paint, primer, glue and plaster not because we’ve been sculpting, but because we’re building pedestals for a show that just like every other show has snuck up on us. Sometimes I think the true talent is that we don’t fall down laughing when someone waxes on about the romance and magic of it all. If they only knew that Steven’s greatest pleasure this week has not come from progress on any piece of art, but instead over his new nail gun they might start to get a taste for the reality of it all.
The upside of the chaos is that it hides the bad and can overpower the good until it sneaks out as wonderful surprise. In the midst of trying to save some shopping from the torrent of construction dust (which yes, must all be completely gone by tomorrow’s show) I snuck into the office and found a sales form for a fairly significant sale. I asked Steven about it and he shrugged that it had come through this morning. It seems like just yesterday that we would have been calling both sets of our parents to exalt a sale like that as proof that it might work out after all. Now, it’s good news, but not nearly as important as the fact that all the primer is dry and we can do the second coat.
