There will be time enough to catch up on why the summer has been so quiet.
Today I thought I'd talk a bit about letting go. Yesterday, my bevel buddy, Dennis Swan confirmed that finally he found someone interested in purchasing his beveling equipment. That after only a brief acquaintance and some absolutely fantastic custom bevels, there will be no more. And not even the promise of more. He is ready to move on and I totally understand.
I have a wonderful mentor/teacher that I have known for well over 12 years now. I have been a dedicated student, and continue to be, as well have become a friend, helping her with her garden or moving, or whatever the task might be. When she opened her school 12 years ago, the students built a community / meditation garden on her property. It was stunning. Split rail cedar fencing, apple trees, perennials galore, beautiful hand made garden furniture. It was our hard work and devotional service that kept this garden humming for about seven years.
Like all of our lives, we get called to take on new challenges and explore new avenues. Such was the case with the school. My mentor knew she had to move on and she did. It was easily five years since I had reason to be in the same old area. Being curious I decided to have a look at the old school site.
I almost drove by it. There was nothing on the street that was remotely the same. And worse, this magnificent garden was lost - the grass knee deep, the apple trees cut down, not a flower bed in site. The wisteria that cooled the front porch with it's boughs, simply dead wood hanging limp like one of the window shutters. I was devastated. It was all I could do not to cry.
Driving home, well past my emotional release, I pondered this new reality. I had held this quiet belief that it could not change. That the beauty and potential that was created in that garden would continue on - how could it not? The stark realization that what the group of us created could not be sustained was a valuable lesson.
It's sortta the same thing letting Dennis and his bevels go. The beauty and promise of unexplored bevel potential is gone. Our unique working dynamic, with the contribution of two of our email cohorts, Tod and Jo, has dissolved.
This could sound quite dreary, however with every closed door - a window opens, with every death - a new birth can begin.
The metaphor of the garden is a biblical one. We each tend our own gardens within and without. I wish Dennis all the best in his new life as someone who created amazing bevels once. His life skills at creating, are still with him, so he will have no difficulty creating a new and different garden. I know this to be true for all of us.
So as painful in the moment, of letting something go or change, is, it is the beginning of something new. As artists we know this cycle all too well.