I've got a story for you, if you'd like to hear it. And I hope you bear with me through this because it roots and ends in the hypnotic piece of gelatin silver photography above, which is, at once compelling, spellbinding, and unnerving. When I saw it- the real deal, in hand, to the touch, with my eyes being pulled into its luminous heart- it was, in that wild glimmering moment, mine. Sold. Destined to be in my life every day, beginning as soon as possible. I paid for it bit by bit until it was time to take her home.
I carried the finely framed artwork with me back to my house, carefully, anxiously, excitedly. But, do you know what? I couldn't find the right place for it for months... months! It sat, well protected, on a cabinet shelf. I'd come across it often, take it out, stare at it and, bam! Those same feelings all over again. But I still couldn't find the perfect spot for it. And it so rightfully deserved the perfect spot.
And then, one day last Spring, Sebastian and I, together, decided to end our marriage and I was to move out and into a new home. It's been a peaceful and loving process between us, and what I was experiencing at that time was a pull toward more peace and more love; spellbound by that feeling of being starkly in the center of something powerful and transformative and feeling unnerved, unsettled with the unknown that was about to unfold right there before me. But for the first time ever, I was handed a major life change and let myself trust that the unfolding would be magical. It's true. I did. I have no idea where that strength came from, but it came from somewhere and I learned/am learning to go with it.
I found a beautiful little guest home; made it "me" and began to settle into a life where I was still connected with Sebastian and my friends but that also offered up a serene solitude, off and away from my usual stomping ground. I enjoy being by myself but, once again, the unknown made it so that I felt a little weary being alone for the first time in over a decade. I kept giving myself the gentle (sometimes %&*#! exasperating) reminders to trust the unfolding. And so I began. I unpacked my stuff and then took out this photograph, knowing maybe instinctively, exactly where it needed to go. The Perfect Spot, finally, is in my office- sun-drenched and airy (and tiny) - where I can see it daily; sometimes with a vase of flowers next to it; sometimes with design materials left by it to rest for an undetermined length of time while I get distracted with another something on the walk to my desk. In any case, each day, I stop to look at it; a rush of thankfulness for this life.
This image (have I told you?) is entitled The Magic Solitude. The Magic Solitude. Can you imagine a more serendipitous connection to a piece of art? I sure can't. But here's the thing of the whole matter... these serendipitous connections, the mark of knowing, the depth of life, the intensity that unfolds into something distinctly vital and truth-bearing, into something magical... that, friends, is the work of Gail Pine.
This woman- a photo-based artist of great and meticulous talent- is also my kind and loving friend. She has the rare gift of insight fueled by deep deep compassion. She is focused and astoundingly detail-oriented. She is a collector of the unexpected, and often, the forgotten; the at-one-time discarded and left on the periphery of lives once sparked with dreams and hopes; some realized, some not. Gail collects these and gives them back their lives; their hopes; their dreams, individually or collectively with a new story for us to reclaim and relate to on the most strikingly intimate level. She, herself, is of this quality. And her art is something we all need to know.
I was lucky enough to get to visit her fascinating-in-the-details studio. You can have a peek, too...
I adore this woman, the kind soul, the artist. I think you will, too. For more of her work, to contact her, to get inspired, visit her website HERE. It's something special and, yes, so magical.
