On Gratitude
This Sunday, Brandon and I drove forty-five minutes through deep Central Valley fog up to Sacramento to uninstall my exhibit at the California Museum. Walking back into the now empty gallery filled me with an enormous sense of accomplishment. The space still echoed with the memory of opening night, the laughter, the warmth, the mix of family, friends, and new faces. It was one of those rare moments in an artist’s life when you get to literally hear what people think of your work. Of course, that includes the critics too, the smirks and the eye rolls, all part of any reception and part of the experience.
Every artist knows the crushing self-doubt that can creep in during the creative process, but the emotional rollercoaster of an opening night is unforgettable. Amid the chaos are small, luminous moments that remind you why art is worth making, that it is not frivolous decoration, but a way to tell stories and bring community together. Being part of Recuerdos Ilustrados taught me so much, especially about installation work, which was completely new to me. My altar was far from the sleek modern installations we are used to seeing, but it still needed to tell a story through its elements and layout.
Close up of the altar
I will carry many things from this opportunity with me, from the behind the scenes hustle during install, to conversations with fellow artist Stephanie Mercado, who is a wealth of knowledge and kindness, to learning about the intersection of high art and activism from Alvaro Márquez, and the importance of community art from Professor Luis Genaro Garcia.
Above all, I am deeply grateful to the California Museum and its staff for giving me the opportunity not only to showcase my work, but also to share Obata’s story.
Recharging
Leading up to the exhibit, I spent weeks in nonstop work mode. Planning, sourcing materials, carving, printing, painting, and framing filled my entire summer and early fall. Once everything was finally installed, I could exhale and let my creative muscles rest. Almost immediately after that, a new wave of work arrived, this time from my day job.
This year, my day job became unusually demanding. I would come home and collapse on the couch, sleeping straight until morning, and that is not an exaggeration. For weeks, I barely had the time or energy for anything beyond preparing for the next workday. Things have eased a little now, although the workload is still enough to keep me fully occupied. When Thanksgiving arrived, I considered diving back into holiday sales, but my creative heart told me to pause.
Football has been one of the ways I have been blowing up steam these past weeks.
Creativity needs room to breathe, space to refill, and moments of quiet to rekindle inspiration. Recently, I came across transcripts from an interview I conducted with local NorCal printmaker Irenka Pareto. That discovery led me to reread all the interviews I had done with other artists when I was regularly publishing them in my newsletter and on my website. I realized I need to transcribe those interviews onto my blog so they are accessible to everyone.
Revisiting those conversations reminded me of the lessons my fellow artists shared. The biggest one was that rest, reflection, and inspiration gathering are just as essential as carving and printing. When the next creative chapter begins, I want to enter it with renewed clarity, energy, and intention
Luna taking a nap.
