Note: Practically Twisted is moving to Mimm Patterson Art. If you follow me here, please follow me there.

The month of March came in like a lion and left like one, too. A glorious, fierce, delightful lion. In the middle of the month, on a Wednesday, the temperature hit 90 degrees. The next day it snowed. I kid you not. It was as if we were having an ‘on again/off again’ romance with Mother Nature. But March was glorious, fierce and delightful in other ways, too.

It took eight months to complete the body of work that became ‘Holding What Time Leaves Behind’. And when I installed that work at McGuffey Art Center I had some hope of maybe one or two little red dots. And before I go any further let’s admit it – artists like little red dots. It’s not about the money gained from a sale of artwork. Okay. It’s a little bit about the money. But I think more than the money those little red dots signal validation. That we’re on the right track. Something is resonating to a degree that even in these uncertain times a total stranger is willing to take home something we’ve created. This happened to me ten times during the month of March. TEN TIMES. It’s never happened to me like that ever before. In fact, for my solo exhibit last October at LiveArts, ‘Connections’,  only two people made it to my First Friday opening and one of those people was my loving partner Ben. 

What’s the difference between then and now?

LiveArts is a theatre space attached to Second Street Gallery. On First Fridays folks want to be where the action is, and that’s at Second Street. After an hour of loitering alone in the lobby of LiveArts, Ben and I decided to leave. Guess where we headed? Second Street.

By comparison, McGuffey has five separate galleries and in March I had the honor of exhibiting with artists Blake Hurt, Eileen French and Ann Cheeks. They’re known quantities in Charlottesville. I’m still new to the art community and so I benefitted from their friends, family and connections.

But the biggest difference between now and all the times before is that for the first time I wasn’t focused on the others. What would the others think? What would the others like to see? What would look nice over the others’ sofa? I didn’t consider sale potential or commerciality or the latest trends or even if the work was archival. I was trying to tell a story based on a phrase I heard used by the art critic and philosopher Jon Berger:

Construct a sanctuary in the flow of linear time.

That’s it.

And I guess the shift in my intentionality from the external to the internal, and doing work that had heart-centered flow and focus touched in others something ineffable. I felt secure creating this body of work. I felt driven, despite having no expectations. I felt free to explore, build, tear apart and build again. It was a grueling eight months but I can’t wait to do it all over again.

I don’t know why it’s taken me decades to learn the truth about heart-centered work. I’m certain a lack of confidence and impostor syndrome played a part and in the ebb and flow of creating I suspect they’ll play a part again. But next time I’ll recognize them. I might even welcome them like old friends rather than try to shake them off. Because the next time I’ll have this mad, mad month of March 2026 to offer some grounding equilibrium.