Red

Five years ago today, I posted this, and I like the tidiness of the occasion.

Jay Farnsworth sold Red Art Gallery and she closes its lovely front doors on Friday.  We'd been asked to withdraw our work, (and renegotiate terms with the new owners if we so desire,) this week. The gallery will retain its name, the cafe will be expanded, and picture framing discontinued, by two Nelson women. The rest, Jay told me, I just have to wait and see.

It was with a certain sadness and nostalgia that I picked up my work yesterday, but as soon as I heard Jay sold the gallery, I wanted to withdraw.

My relationship was with Jay more than with Red, and as with all the other galleries, I have to feel a personal connection with the gallery owners/staff to leave my pieces in their charge; I didn't feel it right for the new owners to automatically adopt them.  I'm glad she/they saw it that way, too.

When she opened the cafe, the small corner table was my office away from home.  I haven't been to the cafe as often as I used to, but I still think she had the only decaf I could enjoy in town. I'm feeling nostalgic about the 22 months I "commuted" to Red to develop our friendship before I disclosed I am a weaver, while I wove red pieces after red pieces at home imagining them being shown in the gallery.

It's a good thing for Jay; she's ready to take on a new project, and I'm happy to tell you her project will still allow her for me to bend her ears some more.  I'm trying to see it as a good thing for me, too.  Like graduating from grade school.

There was a small table for one or two at the bottom left corner.  I liked to sit on the chair facing right, and look at Jay's magazines, (she had a couple of issues of Ornament Magazine among others,) or scribble/doodle in my notebooks, especially before the cafe became very popular. 

The gallery was usually sparsely hung. Even this view says changes are under way.

I believe my new found fascination of modern and abstract art is due in part to the many hours I stood in front of and walked past works at Red, and the conversations I had with Jay. And if you knew where I used to be with modern and abstract, you'd know it's not been a journey, but leaps of faith.

That table was a nice one to share coffee with friends, confer with Jay, or even to work, as in swapping old handmade tags with spiffy new ones.

I can't tell you how many cards I bought here. But the cards, I hear, will stay.