“Where to go, what to do.” Collage, cut New Yorker Magazine paper, 9" x 12" — **“Where to go, what to do.”**
Collage, cut *New Yorker* Magazine paper, 9" x 12"

Just writing “Week 52” made my heart leap.

INNER CHEERLEADER JULES: YAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

I am incredulous, I am overjoyed, I am tired, I am ready to celebrate. Almost. I have to do laundry first.

JULES: Wait, what?

Okay, I’ll have a mini-celebration, then the laundry. Then a bigger celebration.

I haven’t read Jack Kornfield’s book, but I love the title: After the Ecstasy, the Laundry: How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path.

I trust my heart has grown wiser on this year-long path. For one thing, this weekly practice has been a reminder that it’s all a path, not a destination. Yes, I had a goal. 52 collages in 52 weeks. But it’s still just a leg of the path.

The path includes the sublime and the mundane. It’s all spiritual, if I am clever enough to remember that, even when I’m doing the laundry.

“Where to go, what to do” isn’t a question here. To me, it’s a reminder. Make a choice. Forge a path or follow one, just make a choice. It’s not a path set in stone. I can always make a new choice.

If you read last week’s penultimate post (thank you!), you may recall that my Inners were trying to make a big deal out of these last “ultimate” collages. I chose differently.

“Distant Summer” by Kadir Nelson @kadirnelsonThe New Yorker, July 6 & 13, 2020 — “Distant Summer” by Kadir Nelson @kadirnelson
*The New Yorker*, July 6 & 13, 2020

I had a general idea of what I wanted this last collage to look like—lots of paths, lots of choices. As I started gluing, I had to resist trying to control the final outcome too much. Just build it up, one strip at a time. Keep it simple, I reminded myself. And just as I did, I saw the word “simple” on the back of a strip I was gluing. Thank you, Universe! A sign that I was in the flow. Don’t overthink it, just make a choice and go with it. Then another choice. Then another. Then …

Eventually, a weave began to emerge.

I may not always be in a position to see the beautiful tapestry that I am creating. Sometimes I am in the weeds looking at the underside where all those threads appear like a chaotic mess. That’s when I have to remind myself—there is always a greater weave. Whether I can see it or not, whether I’m making art or doing the laundry, the weave is there. I am the weave and the weaver.

So. Now what? Where to go, what to do.

I will celebrate with a mini-vacation. I will sleep. I will read novels. I will watch movies. I will return to my neglected Pilates practice. I will connect with my neglected friends. I will explore options for these 52 collages—a gallery show? I hope so. Selling prints? I hope so. Selling originals? If there’s a gallery show (or shows), perhaps after.

More art? Absolutely. More laundry? Fine.

My self-imposed challenge may be over, but I imagine the rewards will continue to reveal themselves. I hope I discover that Inner Critic Ursula and Inner Perfectionist Priscilla enjoy their own vacations more and more. I hope I am compelled to keep up a regular art practice. I hope I find that creativity continues to flow, whether or not I’m feeling inspired. I hope I am surprised and awed by whatever gifts may come.

If money follows, great. Regardless, I remain grateful for my nonprofit job that supports my creative life.

I also remain grateful for all who have been interested in this project throughout the year. You have buoyed me up and kept me going.

I remain grateful for Walking Buddy Wanda for being a true friend, always there with love and support, wisdom and laughter.

I remain grateful to the Hubs for countless reasons, but especially for saying, “Why don’t you just bring all your art stuff out into the living room? I don’t mind.” In fact, not only didn’t he mind, he enjoyed being in on the process. Even when I didn’t choose his favorite cartoon.

“Where to go, what to do.” First, let’s bust through that finish-line tape! Then I think a stroll to my favorite neighborhood coffee shop is in order.

JULES: Cheers, sweetie! Laundry can wait.

ME: Cheers, Jules! You’re a real pal.