In some ways I disappeared as abruptly as I appeared. I hit the ground running when I got home, with bathroom renovations in full swing, nursing a sick pet which regrettably I had to farewell and write a catalogue for up and coming show I have been curating.
Its only now I am starting to contemplate on the experience of the DOM residency. People ask me if I got much work done, frankly no, not much at all. But something far richer happened, I got to experience the uniqueness, the hospitality and loyalty of friendship that identifies the northwest coast. Not only is the landscape wild and wonderful and so are the people. It seems to me to be an unspoken knowing that your community has got your back, you belong. I saw this amongst the young people, I saw it intensely amongst the staff, especially the art department, and I saw it in the arts community. I’m guessing this care and dependability comes through fire, through the tough times and fun. I love the resilience and pride of the northwest coast, it truly is beautiful inside and out, a generous and gorgeous place.
In these blogs I have focused on the studio side of things, not the beaches, the wild winds, that pademelons eating your front lawn at night, nor the mountains at my doorstep— an incredible place.
It took me time to get to know some of your treasures, your people, but I truly feel richer and indebted to the friendships formed over this season. Some of my favourite times was an informal painting workshop done with the staff, playing ping pong late at night, hiking into unknown terrain and having a bit of a dance with the girls at Penguin Beer Co, and the one-on-one conversations with the students about their projects. It is a place I would not hesitate to return to, to even call home. I will never know how much impact I had on DOM, but I do know it has had a lasting impact on me.
