Outgrown Space (John Dotson’s dream of October 6, 2015)
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I have a moment in my studio and perceive an advance in a sculpture that is thrilling with richness of texture and color.
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I have returned to the school I worked in and am reviewing my previous administrative role, engaging multiple, complex, highly charged situations. I have the feeling of dancing through them.
I am in an office discussing a professional position that a friend is seeking and how I might facilitate the process. As conversations extend, I get tangled up in various convolutions and am aware that my timing is off. I return to my old office—which I have not visited for years—and discover that a major leak on an upper floor has turned into a deluge drenching books, papers, and splattering into the desktop hard drive.
I turn away, aware that my current work cannot be contained in these former spaces.