After the Flood

Well, those of you who actually know me, and have spent time in my home, office, or studio, know that I live in a state of what appears to be chaos, but which is actually a fairly functional illusion of complete disarray.  I know where my stuff is, but you won't.  It works well for me, until unexpected things happen. Like when the dog bed overflows the washer and floods the basement. And the water pours down on artwork packed in cardboard boxes, and old suitcases, and packages of taped together bubble wrap.  

Fortunately all the unused yarn and fabric are stored in mismatched jumbo plastic bins. And the family photos left on the table since Christmas? Spared the drips from the ceiling by an untidy - but fortuitously located - pile of mat-board, which created sort of a paper-pulp levee for me. 

A "true confessions" moment: when work comes back from an exhibition, I rarely open it up to see if it's okay. This is probably a bad practice, since I can't collect any insurance on damages, but since most of my work is made of cloth, and therefore pretty much unbreakable, I prefer to leave it neatly packed and labeled from the gallery or exhibit space. So, who knows if any of the stuff that got soaked in the flood was in good condition? Some of it was almost 10 years old. The crushing blow was that it made me realize how much unsold work I have stored down under the laundry room.  It seemed like a lot. Most of it was only partly ruined, meaning, if I wanted to show it again I'd have to build some replacement parts. But I don't know if any of it would be something I'd want to show anymore. So my big question is, what to do with unsold work?  If you've done me a favor lately, you might find a package on your doorstep...