The surefire way to avoid the otherwise unavoidable anticlimax after something big – like this past weekends two separate art shows – is to make sure you continue to be super-busy or be so emotionally engaged that you just don’t have time or space to think about what just went down.
If you saw me right now, you’d see the streaks from dried tears on either side of my solemn face. I’m not sad, nor happy. Melancholy best describes how I feel right now. It’s not an uncomfortable place to be, but I am typically not there much.
Though intense, the weekend went extremely well, with many visitors and several of my pieces sold during Malmö’s annual Gallery Night. I might have let me self soak in anticlimactic dwellness, but this morning, after a few truly exhaustive days and still not fully caught up from lost sleep, we woke up before the crack of dawn, had breakfast around our dining room table and then hugged and kissed a bunch before Elle left us for her first solo trip to Asia.