I felt nothing.

   
i started baking bread.

most might not find that cause for concern- but for me, it’s concerning.

1/3 life crisis?
(too old for 1/4, too young for mid)

i’m feeling a little refreshingly lost.

lost in a way that feels more like freedom than panic.

I had a major shift in my headspace after my recent trip to Europe,

but I feel the need to make a gratitude disclaimer first…

You know, the kind where you talk about how much you love your kids before you vent about the absolute shit-show mayhem?

I want to express ahead of the extremely candid conversation I'm about to have with you that I am very deeply and eternally grateful that I got to go on this trip with my mother. Both of us have never been out of the country. We did a lot of things. I was very brave. We got lost in the rolling hills of the Tuscan landscape at night with my Google Maps not updating and I still got us home safely.

[I'm actually proud of myself. I don't say that often and I should say it more.
You should too.]

*I AM GRATEFUL FOR MY TRIP TO EUROPE.
*I AM GRATEFUL TO HAVE BEEN INCLUDED IN AN INTERNATIONAL EXHIBIT.
*I AM GRATEFUL I WAS ABLE TO HAVE A BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE WITH MY MOM.

**(I AM ESPECIALLY GRATEFUL I GOT TO EAT FRENCH BREAD AND ITALIAN PASTA AND DRINK ESPRESSO A MILLION TIMES A DAY.)

Now that I’ve announced my gratitude…

My grand takeaway from my European adventure in one eloquent sentence:
(usually I'm not concise but I feel like I can do it this time)

What the fuck are we even doing?

(blanket statement about everything)

I mean that extremely seriously, literally, philosophically….every “ly” you can think of.

What the fuck am I even doing?
What the fuck are you even doing?

(I leave the word “even” in there for dramatic effect)

I also mean that in the smallest and largest sense.
What are you doing and why in this very minute/day/week/month/life?

Let me explain.

I am someone who has a really hard time setting goals.

Anytime I think to set a goal it feels fake. It feels like I don't actually really care about what I’m trying to isolate. But without having a specific goal, life also feels sort of obtuse and vague.

The closest thing I’ve had to a goal is a blanket desire in the back of my mind to be a gallery represented artist.

I love art shows. I love the idea of having a creative home for my art and my vision.
I like the idea of having shows and having people find me for commissions through a gallery because I am not a self marketing guru by any stretch of the imagination.

But even saying “being gallery represented” feels uncomfortable because I’m not sure that’s the answer. I'm like a commitmephobe when it comes to goal settings.

The only goals I’ve ever felt sure of are states of being.

I want to feel at peace and inspired.

That has been the only goal that has felt unquestionable.

BUT after meeting one of my coaches, Hayley Carr- I’ve learned a very valuable/empowering/maddening lesson.

States of being aren’t goals because you can choose to be a state right now.

It’s not something to work toward.

It’s a choice, a decision, a state of being that you can embody in a moment.

And also, you're never going to have it regardless of the work you put in unless you decide, choose, and allow.

So empowering.
So frustrating.
So true.

PAUSE:

I have toxic trait of letting powerful information slip off me. I bypass myself and immediately think about how I could help others with it. "Oh, this would be a great thing to insert into my nostalgia now templates"

vs

whoa whoa whoa- chew on this yourself, ma’am.


So if that’s you too, here is a time out reflection moment:

Is there a goal that you've been putting in the distance that is actually a state of being that you could choose in this moment, regardless of circumstance?

If you need help identifying- is there something that can fit into this sentence?

"Once I do/get/become/figure out _____________, then I can/will/feel/be _________"

Is there something that fits into that sentence that you can access right now if you just open yourself up to allow it?

How I ended up in a Paris Exhibition-

So a curator reached out to me asking if I’d be interested in exhibiting an image of mine she found on Instagram in Paris.

I didn't answer for a couple of days because I was sure that it was a scam.

“I don't know what this person's after… they haven't asked me for any money yet, but there's something fishy here.”

After some avoidance and plenty of skepticism, no, in fact- it was not a scam.
(my new york italian descent was shocked)

It was special to me that the chosen picture was one of my mother and there was no version of this european trip that would feel right other than to bring my mom with me.

Not only was the photograph of her, but I am of her.

I thought it was beautiful that my art was going to be the thing to bring us to Europe until I realized-

RED FLAG:

Although I love that my art brought us on this very important trip, I hate knowing that it wouldn’t have happened without it.

There’s no reason why we couldn’t have gone on our own other than there was no specificity other than pure (albeit watered down through minimizing long held dreams) desire.

[this is actually helping me realize this is why I in fact need a goal.]

This whole trip was put on a credit card- most of which, my dear mother’s.

Experiences like this are too important to deny.
You only live once.

But I think it’s dumb that an external recognition had to be the thing to give us a reason to actually make it happen.

It's actually quite frustrating and embarrassing that reason enough isn't that it was my mom's lifelong dream to go.

It took a stranger that decided to be a curator and was working on a show that found me on instagram and saw an image that I took of my mom in the sand after being tipsy and running on the beach with my son because we were on a trip that my partner’s parents planned and lovingly invited my parents and then months later on a day where I should have been doing a million different things I saw and felt that that picture needed to be severely cropped and look like this for reasons unknown:

Another gratitude disclaimer:

(this disclaimer business feels radically unnecessary and necessary at the same time.)

I am very appreciative of the opportunity to be part of this show.
Truly, truly I am.
What I’m about to say is in no way taking away from this.

It was a beautiful gathering of people.
It was a gorgeous space.
Huge turnout.
Lovely fellow artists.

AND-

When I walked in to my first show in Paris,

I felt nothing.

I felt no-thing.
no-thing, did I feel.

I was a bit perplexed by the emotional flatness in my body.
I already knew before I got there that I didn’t have grand expectations of “this is the thing, this is what I've been waiting for, this is the biggest moment of my life”,

but it's also undeniably a sliver of my blanket goal of gallery representation and what that would look like to have shows in different parts of the world and blah, blah, blah.

Last year I was in a show in Rotterdam that I didn't even consider going to. It didn't even cross my mind to attend that show. It pissed me off so much when I realized I didn't even consider it that when this Paris thing happened, going was a mandatory act of self recognition (and simultaneous, ambiguous rebellion). Dragging my mom with me was also mandatory.

Two birds, one stone.
Gotta love an international multitask.

On the same night I also went to Paris Photo-

a massive/amazing photo show at the Grand Palais.

The work there was mind blowing and beautiful. I met some amazing people & reconnected with inspiring friends from around the world.

Then the next morning I went to the Louvre- nauseating.

A gross, exhausting amount of deeply inspiring, gorgeous work.

(whenever I really love something, the adjectives become negative because I mean it so hard the nice words don’t seem like enough. )

So within 12 hours I had 3 significant art experiences.

I loved so much of it.
Felt meh about so much of it.
Thought of all the things I want to do.
All the things I have yet to do.
All the other things these artists have created that I’ll never see.
All of the amazingness packed so closely together almost deactivates it into numbness.

And I left it all thinking, “what the fuck?”

Nothing matters.
Nothing matters unless you love it.
Nothing matters at all,
unless you actually feel it.
Unless it makes goosebumps rise up over your whole body.

RELEVANT SIDE NOTE-
[Mona Lisa pissed me off]

I forced my mom to use a wheelchair at the Louvre.
It was the first stop of a full day of sight seeing. She has COPD and hip trouble. She gets out of breath easily and I didn’t want her to feel like crap for the rest of the day. She’s also suuuuuuper stubborn so it was a heavy lift to convince her. (in the end she was glad she did.)

Towards the end of our time there, we got to the room with the Mona Lisa.
I must admit, I went into it with a chip on my shoulder to begin with.

The commotion around the Mona Lisa is why I simultaneously love and hate the fine art world.

There's approximately a million people in front of this very modestly sized painting. Meanwhile I have just come from rooms of paintings bigger than I ever realized was possible to create.
Insane artwork in every crevice of this huge museum.
It feels utterly impossible to even take in all of this artwork.

But nothing else garnered this amount of concentrated attention.

Obviously we wanted to get a closer look but I was so annoyed by the chaos.

It felt ridiculous.

Does every one of these people that's frantically trying to see this painting have a personal adoration for it?
Is it all curiosity?
Is it to say you saw it in person?

I “saw” it in person but I do not believe I truly saw anything.

I was so distracted.

Anyway, whatever.
So I'm disgusted, pushing my mom in the wheelchair off to the side just to get past the crowd and leave the room.

(I ended up getting my period a few days later so part of me wonders if my mona lisa rage was also hormonal)

ANYWHO.
There's glass case around the painting, and then there's a wooden banister in front of it. And then like eight feet in front of that is the rope where the crowd has to stand away from it. So it's a pretty good distance away.

Just as we're trying to go around and get away from the crowd, these museum workers that are manning this area intercept us and usher us right into the roped off space in front of the Mona Lisa.

At first I was severely confused. But then I realized- wheelchair.

Obviously a completely unintentional perk.

(Also, has no one else thought of this? I sure hadn’t.)

We were so bewildered I wanted to pee my pants laughing at the whole ordeal.

Just as I was so disgusted and wanting to move on- I'm literally ushered front and center closer than anyone. (I still couldn’t enjoy it. Too much chaos and pressure.)

The first picture I took when I got there was of the crowd opposite of the Mona Lisa. I was more mystified of that.

Of course it's a beautiful painting.
It's gorgeous.
Of course.
And so is everything else.

I’m sure there are many reasons why the popularity has grown so much over time that I’m ignorant to but when something becomes that “well” known, it almost loses its ability to be truly seen in the first place.

It’s like cliches and stereotypes that are so common we don’t realize we are even applying them in our everyday life through unfair judgements and assumptions.

Thats the part that frustrates me.
When truly seeing something becomes nearly impossible through all of the noise.

The Louvre is one of the most amazing museums in the world and when I think about the artists inside- the real people whose art is hanging on those walls and how that would likely be a dream to be exhibited there- I then think…for what?

So people can take a selfie in front of your work?
So you can be highly regarded?
Would the artists be underwhelmed as well?

The exquisite talent, work, skill, devotion, intention and vision of these artists is awe inspiring and motivating and it doesn't matter unless what they made filled their heart and soul during their time on earth.

The only value to be had is feeling.

When you really think about life and what we're doing/ what we're hoping for/what the point is- it's feeling.
To feel.

Whether that is watching a leaf fall on the ground, or a painting at the Louvre, or watching someone help another cross the street, whatever it is that makes you feel is the point of anything.

It’s refreshingly clarifying.

When feeling becomes the the basis of our decisions and how we live our lives…we can leave our logical brains for a damn moment and feel our way into life.

In terms of the experience of art- if an artist created an amazing work of art, it means everything when the person looking at it feels and is touched by it, but simultaneously it means nothing if the artist didn't care about it.

The object itself is neutral.

Same in reverse.

If a work of art was a deeply fulfilling experience for the artist, it makes no matter if no one else likes it.

Some people say you can feel if the artist is not invested in the art but I don’t necessarily fully agree.

We only ever see as we are- not as others are or intend to be.

“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

―Anaïs Nin

Sometimes I'll love someone's work and it isn’t until I have more context that the feelings shift- maybe I hear them speak or learn more about process and I don't really particularly resonate anymore. That magic that I felt looking at this work is gone as swiftly as it came.

The opposite is also true.

I can like a piece of work fine and then all of a sudden hear the artist speak or read more on the project and all then instantly become obsessed.

This is the experience that I had with Larry Sultan- my favorite photographer of all time. I enjoyed his images but it wasn’t until I heard him speak that I felt full body vibration of resonance. What a gift to humanity this human being is.

The work itself- neutral. The feeling creates everything.

There’s a current day photographer that I love very much and own none of his books.

I'm a fanatic when it comes to purchasing art and art books but I just feel a massive disconnect between his work that I LOVE and the way he makes books. It's so interesting.

I had a moment where I came up against it again on this trip. I wanted to want the book. I could have had him sign it and everything. But I couldn’t/wouldn’t follow through with the flat feeling I had about the book. It’s strange and unexpected but as I frantically tried to decide in the moment whether to invest or not in the book, tuning into my lack of feeling made it a lot easier to decide.

Do you relate to this?

"Logically _________ doesn’t make sense- yet emotionally/physically, it’s abundantly clear."

Moments like this make it apparent when we are ascribing to and trying to fit inside a certain identity rather than staying connected to personal truth.

The point is-
everything & nothing.

nothing changed & everything changed.

nothing matters & everything matters.

One of my favorite things about this trip was going to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore.

It’s tiny and charming and the energy in there was more potent for me than when I went to the Palace of Versailles. (I was disturbed by the opulence at Versailles)

The theme of this trip repeated- no matter the expectation, how highly regarded, or popular, or expensive, or exclusive- none of it actually matters.

To the degree of which I believe is a major point of life- to discover and recognize what is yours.

The work of removing all of the veils and facades and invisible lenses that have been put upon us is difficult and liberating and critical.

What now, though?

It's very freeing to realize that you give less shits than you thought, but it's also daunting and disorienting.

It's like, but now what?

I've now decided that I don't want to offer photo services openly anymore.
I want to do more deliberate, longer term commissions for people.

I’ve apparently also realized that to be featured in an art show in Paris doesn’t blow my skirt up and Mona Lisa pisses me off so the external validation of fine art institutions has lost some of its appeal.

What now?

It’s always been the same and I act like I'm discovering it anew every time.
But it's always the same thing.

It's presence.
It's being so in right now that there is nowhere else.

Be so in right now that there is nowhere else.

Nothing to assess.
Nothing to effort at.
Only feeling here,
now,
flow,
creation,
love.

So much of life as human beings is getting caught up in everywhere but here all of the time.

Sometimes it takes a very inconvenient, crazy, epic, deflating, confusing journey to bring you back home.

During this trip my mom told me she’s worried about me.
It was in that moment that I realized- possibly for the first time- that I am not worried about me.

A confidence and self trust that made itself known more loudly than ever before.

I let that moment be the full circle knowing of nothing matters unless I feel it does.

I understand how certain things might look concerning from the outside but looks are deceiving.
But from the inside? golden.

I'm always going to be okay when I live my life through feeling what’s right.

I think we’ve been told so much to not make decisions based on emotions that we somehow have missed the fact that the repercussions of leaving the feeling element out is actually the major cause of long term harm.

Even though it can appear messy, confusing, and haphazard on the outside.

All that matters is how it feels to you.

how does it feel?

We all know you could have everything buttoned up, check the boxes, and look like all your shit is in a row and want to scream at the top of your lungs and just disappear.

I ask you-

What in your life “looks good” but doesn't feel good?
Where is the opportunity to align with your gut?

What might look like a shit show but feels right?
How can you own this knowing?

Let yourself linger in that knowing.

Continuing to meet your ever evolving self is forever work and a gift.

I'm so proud of you and I hope you are proud of you.

I’m proud of me too. I didn't need to go to Paris to be proud of me.

But sometimes it is really helpful to go halfway around the world to realize what doesn't matter and what does.

Sometimes you just need to be that far away from your bullshit.
Adjust your eyes to your truth.

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