The Anecdotal Life Part.118

I think I have the Shangri-La or Bora-Bora syndrome today. To quote a wistful but nevertheless witty remark that Marilyn Monroe made (one of several of hers that got her into the exclusive Hollywood Comedy Club)"I'd like to see at least one Bora. " Well me too. The way I feel you'd think we'd had a severe winter and I should be ecstatic with this early spring. But no, not entirely. It's discombobulating. "Time is out of joint." and me with it.
There's no mystery as to my disgruntlement. My boat is up for sale with a brokerage (Hawk's Boats) and again on Craig's list. An era is ending. It's time to reinvent myself again and as yet I'm caught between two identities. I recently had two nibbles on the boat but nothing serious. A few days following those nibbles , I can't remember from whom or where, I heard mention of Maryland Hall for the Creative Arts. I'd been there some years ago and hadn't been overly impressed, but a check up visit seemed just the thing for a spring day. I put one foot in the door and it was obvious " the joint was jumping." A wide variety of Arts was going on. Children running to and fro in tutus like so many fluffy pool balls, Peabody Institute signs were hanging over doors, a computer teacher was teaching to a packed classroom, pottery was being fired, and really good artist was off alone in a corner studio proving dramatically that drawing is a fine art in and of itself. I knew the photographer who worked downstairs and I knew he was good. It was my type of Bora-Bora surrounding me. Wandering through a couple of galleries was a little disappointing. I wouldn't have given any grade above B- and in one case, one lower than that. I realized they weren't exactly flush with competent artists. All my antennae were up. The price was doable, the impending empty space was smallish but perfect. I'd had to learn to work in a lot smaller space than that.
The application procedure was a bit over the top; I sighed and longed for the good old days where you could just interview and show your work. The secretary caught the sigh and said patiently, "Dearie, those days are gone."I would need digital photos, a statement, another statement of intent, resume , etc. etc. etc. Fortunately, I wanted a studio badly enough to jump through the hoops, beg my son-in-law into photographing my work, haul all the framed and matted pieces to D.C., haul it up their steep steps, and fill the dining room with these piles for a week and a half. I heard that when my son Eric came home that evening around 8:30 or 9:00, (banker's hours aren't what they use to be.) he stood stock still in what had been an elegant dining room and demanded , "What's all this?"A tired voice from the kitchen answered, " Your mother was here." "Oh," Eric said. Consequently, I received incredible organizational help from Stephen, who probably was itching to clear the dining room and the fact he was held hostage in the house anyway until he receives the final operation for his knee. The help came in the form of photographing huge watercolors with tiny detail, wooden collages, and getting my writing into print. My printer was temporarily out of commission. All in all a terrific presentation ensued due to his enormous computer skills...and kind heart. He set me on my professional feet and sent me on my way with a completed folder in one hand. Years of work in one hand-amazing!
But.. But..But. The speed at which applicants are judged at Maryland Hall isn't necessarily amazing. It's pitiful. One artist waited six months. Now you understand my betwixt and between attitude. My patience was wearing thin after just a week.So "whatdiyado" in the meantime?Well, I and a great mechanic went to work on the boat. His wife, a good friend of mine went along to interpret. He has a wonderful British accent that is as thick as a board and with my hearing problem, it gets interesting. He calls out something, then Marianne relays it in a shout to me on the bridge and all in all , it's a small version of a Marx Brother's scene. He commissioned (got all systems checked and going) the boat for spring and a week from now we will go scrub. I went yesterday before the cold settled back in. Beautiful day for it.... and did I ever scrub. The isinglass on the bridge was truly yucky. An "Easter Duck" had laid eggs on the rug at my salon door , a lovely color of blue, or beige, not too certain due two sets of glasses. I was able to save one egg and the other...well who needed that old rug anyway.
The next day I received an email from the Director of Maryland Hall that they would be judging my application etc, by the 15th of April. Whoa! Wasn't ready for that, not from what I'd heard. That really galvanized me. Found an slightly beat up tabletop and cabinet in Pier One's basement, light bulbs to fit an old lamp at the hardware, ran to Minute Man for a free set of business cards and signs for the walls. Yes, it's a case of "presumptive bravado". I don't know what I will do if I don't make it. I have pulled all the art supplies I had stuffed under beds, behind doors and in the back of my closets. I've been tripping over all of it. I was tripping over all of it anyway. This is a small house. Cramming a studio and a office into it was laughable. So well, perhaps, God willing, I will soon have a studio to spend my time WELL and AT LAST!!! Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it, otherwise, have a super spring.