If your final creative act could be pre-designed, what would it be?
ArtStorming asked me that question, and on Sunday they published my answer as a Creativity Toolkit, the first feature in their Remains To Be Seen edition. The answer came out before I could polish it...
My final creative act would not be an object. It would be a room. Natural light. No wall labels. Everyone my work has reached, standing together, no longer performing or masking. Then ten minutes of silence. Not mourning. Arrival.
Everything I have made in graphite, pastel, candy and gauze was a rehearsal for that one unbroken quiet.
That line surprised me when I read it back. For three decades my work has asked people to feel first, then think, then act. The landscapes ask you to feel. Existential Snacks asks you to think, and to take responsibility for what you feed your mind. The room is the exhale after all of it.
ArtStorming also asked for one small practice readers could borrow. Mine is gratitude, constant and a little relentless. I thank the waiter. I thank the sky for giving me eyes to see it. I thank my hands and my heart, broken parts included. Every morning I journal, and then I paint.
Their editors chose my piece Empty Womb for the cover of CENSORED!, their essay on how Meta's algorithms erased their writing about Remains To Be Seen. A platform tried to quiet that work, and now the same work opens a feature about deep listening. I will take that.
When they asked which single object would tell my story, I named one of the Infertility Project baby blankets, hand-crafted from clinical IVF syringes. "All my hopes and dreams undone..." Then I corrected course. Objects matter less to me than impact, the kind that moves from one person to the next.
Hands on my heart, I hope people remember me as a warrior for Love.
Read the full Toolkit on ArtStorming's Substack, and see the work at FirestoneArt.com
Ten Minutes of Silence
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