We talked a lot in art school about trying / not trying to control the viewer’s experience. 

Some artists do, but me … I left them space. Physical space to inhabit the work. To bring some unknown piece and slip it into a crevice just so. Something would click that I couldn’t have conceived on my own.

Collaboration. Kismet. Grace.

That’s what’s interesting about making art. Not knowing what it will be. Surrendering. Acknowledging the piece’s agency, separate from your own.

Some artists deny it. It’s because they are afraid.

What is asked of us?

To show up. To lay down all our pieces and then stand back. Wait for the click.

Most of us don’t leave all our pieces. We secret one in the back pocket of our jeans, causal, dismissive. Not willing to admit – this is the piece that will bring our work alive.

The rest of us; we don’t show up to the party at all.

So I don’t have a word for this year. I have a phrase. A commandment. A reprimand. A reminder.

Show up.