This is the view of my workspace on a sunny day, when the light hits the window a certain way around 3 o'clock. This silly iPhone photograph does not do justice to the amount of green light reflecting into the gallery space from a piece we have in the window upfront. It's precise moments like this, a break from sorting emails and scrutinizing artist bios for accuracy, to admire the spectacular light filtering into the gallery. It's moments like this where I am humbled.
To be honest, I started off this FWT a little disappointed and incredibly anxious. I had initially been offered a position at an institution which really excited me; but unfortunately due to timing and circumstances out of my control, the opportunity fell through. This moment and the weeks to follow were disappointing. I had finally earned what I had worked so hard for, only to have it fall through my grasp and continue to be the dream it has always been.
But then I found myself sitting behind this desk, the hustle and bustle of Chelsea between 10th and 11th street bustling around me. This is the dream, and I am living it. I am handling work by artists I admire, I am learning more about the politics and logistics of galleries, and I am constantly being introduced to new work and new artists; all of which is exciting. This winter, even in its lowest moments, is deeply humbling. I've met many people who's work and rigor I deeply admire, I attended an intimate opening at the Met last night (and was easily the youngest there), I am attending another opening later this week for artists who I admire incredibly, I am working for a kick-ass Brooklyn artist who has me challenging my own ways of thinking creatively, and I am immersed in the world I have always dreamed of being a part of.
Lately, I am incredibly thankful for// natural light, a weekend spent with family, being invited tot eh Charles Marville opening at the Met, hot tea, M coming to visit for a weekend, seeing the work of artists which I admire, great scores at the Strand, silly interactions with street photographers, running into old faces in this big city, slow meals, good books, perpetuated creativity, and having a few weeks left in this crazy place.


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