It was a fabulous weekend in Michigan. My brother, sister, and I had an art show together (see Artists) in my sister’s gallery. The three of us grew up in Ohio with parents who were very supportive of the arts. Our father, who was an artist, but a sign painter in order to make a living, died very young (50 years old). Perhaps because of his early and sudden passing, we have all committed to the arts in our lives.
Working together at the gallery, we arranged the artwork we had produced over the last year, with ease and constructive energy, even with hints of strong opinion and diplomatic critique. I don’t remember this choreography being so smooth or so graceful when we were growing up.
There was a good turnout for the opening, including some Ohio family and most of the elders. Many people were amazed we were able to accomplish this so beautifully and professionally. The fact that all of us are artists was the first level of amazement for non-family members. The next was the fact that we actually have a positive connection with each other. And, of course, pulling off this show was impressive alone in its own right.
It was a meaningful and exhausting opening. Sharing stories and heart, about the artwork and our histories together, made the evening a celebration of the richness, complexity, and joy of creativity and relationship.
(All photos except the close-up of my sister’s pot, are courtesy of JB–Thanks!)