Residency Reflections
August in review, and planting the seeds of potential joy.
Hello, and happy September. August was a packed month, and all the remaining months leading up to 2025 are going to be a whirlwind, I’m sure. Whenever September rolls around I start to get the feeling that I might as well just wish people “Happy New Year.” My experience of all the “ber” months is usually something like puncturing a hole in an hourglass. So for today’s newsletter I’m taking advantage of this precious window of time to pause and reflect.
I am so grateful for the weeks spent at Vashon Artist Residency, and to Heather Dwyer and Cathy Sarkowsky, for creating and maintaining such a thoughtful place to make art. It was arguably one of the best (out of the modest number of 5) residencies I’ve ever attended. What made it so good? The location, the proximity to nature and inspiring wildlife, the clear communication, the thoughtfully furnished facilities and spacious, well-equipped private studios.
Painting is a very slow process for me. Each of the paintings below are 46 x 61 cm (18 x 24 inches), and you can imagine using a 1 centimeter paintbrush to fill in the layers, one stroke at a time.
For anyone that uses social media, I would just like to say for the record that I really do not enjoy time-lapse videos of artwork being created. You know, when a 30 hour artwork gets condensed into 30 seconds. I get that they’re popular because the visual transformation is a spectacle, and because few people have the attention span to sit through anything that feels “slow” these days. But I’m really an advocate for capturing just how labor intensive and time intensive painting can be.
I worked on multiple paintings simultaneously and only finished 3, but even if I hadn’t completed any of them, just having the time to focus was an enormous gift.
As I boarded my flight back to NY in mid-August, I was super inspired to continue painting when I returned home. This of course did not happen. The moment I returned, I got caught up with work, teaching, chores, doctor’s appointments, and my most recent project: gardening.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that Thane and I would be so lucky to have a backyard in any of the 5 boroughs of New York City. Private backyards here are rare, and priceless.
We started our garden rather late in the season, and honestly I was afraid everything would wither and die. All the seed packets recommended starting the seeds after last frost (March or April.) Dear Reader, have you ever tried to build a raised bed and plant vegetables from seed in late July when it is 90 degrees out? I’m curious how that went for you, because it was exhausting for us. But so worth it.
Thane cut all the wood and built the raised beds himself. Then he hauled sixty 50-pound bags of garden soil (that’s 3,000 lbs, or 1,360 kg) from our front door to the backyard. All this in the summer heat after coming home from work.
Less than 24 hours before I left for Vashon Island, I planted a few zucchini seedlings and said a little prayer to the garden gods.
And it was amazing how much they grew in 2 weeks.
Thane tended to them daily. Because I was gone, I didn’t get to witness their gradual expansion and unfurling. It’s a reminder that growth and progress aren’t always apparent when you’re exposed on a regular basis, but if you’re able to take some space, the changes are striking.
Having a garden reminds me the importance of two things:
Something needs to take root in order to bear fruit. This is true in art (and with pretty much anything) as well. Sometimes when I’m in a rut and haven’t painted in a while, I have to step back and ask myself if I’m creating fertile conditions for growth in that area. This is why residencies, traveling, and carving out time and space to immerse myself in inspiration have been so valuable.
The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago, and the second best time is now. I thought about waiting until next season to garden; it might have been easier given the weather and the time constraints. Now I’m glad we didn’t wait. Even if we don’t get a single squash this year, just the fact that we got the ball rolling sets things up for a brighter future.
Wishing everyone the chance to plant the seeds of potential joy, no matter what that looks like for you.
Love,
Melanie
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One more thing before I go – enormous thank you to Thane for being absolutely amazing. The most talented, brilliant, and hardest working person I know. Here he is covered in dirt after hauling 3,000 lbs of garden soil to the back yard:
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Gardening… daily blessings, life lessons, successes and failures. Congratulations on your raised beds - they look great! Glad you didn’t wait and can enjoy your gardening time now.