On disappearing...

and the humility of reappearing

I feel itchy writing this.

I feel shame.

I feel bravery in the commitment to myself that I am determined to not move from my seat before these words are publicly shared. For the sake of upholding this integrity, I will keep this short.

I did not mean to disappear this Summer. Especially after I intentionally disappeared most of the Spring. That “intentional disappearance” was predated by my usual post-holiday recovery check-out that lasts through January and sometimes into February. I realize I have actually spent the large majority of 2023 in hiding.

Disappearing is liberating, peaceful, and insidious. When we recede from obligations, social media, and casual company, there is a special opportunity to observe our world with fewer outside influences imposing on our conclusions. But the longer we stay away, the harder it can be to come back. I believe that is the trap I have fallen into. I do not fear that anyone noticed my absence, rather I feel confident with so much virtual noise fighting for our attention, one less sound is indistinguishable. What is terrifying though, is the re-entry. It confirms to anyone who may not have noticed, that I haven’t managed to remain true to my intentions for this year. That lack of integrity is devastating to grapple with, and embarrassing to announce.

I have been waiting for weeks and months to feel ready to reappear, and today I realized I am going to be waiting forever. So I have decided it is better to simply start with the truth of where I am right in this moment:

• I just forfeited a non-refundable $495 market booth for a September market I do not have the emotional or physical capacity to handle.

• I have bins of work ready to list sitting in my garage that I have felt resistance to unpacking and photographing for weeks due to fear of them not selling anyway.

• I have two more cleaning tasks on my to-do list before the art camp program I host in the summers is packed away and Sils becomes my primary focus again.

• I had some changes to my health come about this summer. Though it is temporary, the symptoms are strong. It has prevented me from returning to my studio, substack, and socials in the afternoon hours of the summer. The fatigue following art camp each morning was insurmountable and forced me to abandon many of my best intentions.

• I am avoiding cleaning up my taxes and accounts because money work and admin is so horribly overwhelming to me.

• I have grappled with resentment I feel around continuing to pursue product-based art for most of this year. And this internal conflict has left me feeling confused and uninspired.

I look at these points and wonder if I am staring at the writing on the wall. Did this dream simply fail? While I have been hiding, I have spoken seriously with my partner and closest friends that I might simply be too tired to reappear again. Tired of fighting algorithms to take up space. Tired of needing to be noticed in order to make an income. Tired of feeling like every thought, experience, or step in the creative process must be documented and shared. Tired of pouring my heart, body, and hours in to work, only for it to break on the floor, warp in the glaze fire, or take up space in my house because it was deemed too expensive to be worthy of any other home.

It is hard to reappear when I do not have anything of service to reappear with. There is no great reveal, no act of service, no wisdom or product or inspiration to offer. I only have honesty to give right now. But even so, I am not ready to give up hope. In the fabulous book “How to do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy” author Jenny Odell states:

“The practice of doing nothing has something broader to offer us: an antidote to the rhetoric of growth. In the context of health and ecology, things that grow unchecked are often considered parasitic or cancerous. Yet we inhibit a culture that privileges novelty and growth over the cyclical and regenerative. Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way”(25).

I have wondered if after years of hustling desperately to seek comfort in growth, security, and validation, this year of hiding is simply a regenerative phase finally demanding to be honored. In the phase void of production, marketing and sales, I am trading income for reflection, validation for privacy, and creation for rest.

Within this space of uncomfortable stillness and self-doubt, I have been exploring my own personal projects. It is still too soon to share the results of these practices, but I have faith they can help me turn this low point into a period of clarity and growth in the months to come. In this moment I am also:

• Executing a personal project I am calling “Analog Time” that is aimed to bring consistent and intentional inspiration into my daily routines.

• Pursuing resources on ADHD. No longer avoiding, but embracing this diagnosis and relearning how to understand my behaviors and tendencies through this lens has been enlightening. I hope to learn and develop new strategies for my own personal progress.

• Paying attention to what makes me feel curious and excited so that I can bring those crumbs of inspiration into my studio as I prepare for the final quarter.

I sincerely hope these small intentional projects help me regain my footing in a creative cycle that I can feel proud of. Thank you for holding this space with me. Thank you for witnessing me where I am at. As always if this message resonates with you please feel free to hit “reply” if you are viewing in email or comment if you are a user of substack. The responses have often been the some of most sacred gifts I have received in my creative journey. I appreciate them more than you know.

With Love and Awe-

Kirsten

-minor house keeping-

the annual gifts to paid subscribers were supposed to be a primary studio-focus in the month of July, as the fore-mentioned fatigue greatly impacted my studio hours this summer, that project has been pushed to September and the gifts will ship before the end of October. Thank you so much for the support. I intend for these gifts to be extra special this year to make up for my neglect.