Exhibition Reflections

Artist Diaries

This year I have been trying to get rejected as many times as possible and as such I have been applying to literally everything and anything that I am eligible for. Currently I’ve been rejected 5 times from 22 submissions and more excitingly I’ve been accepted to 5 different exhibitions. Two of which were completely unaffordable and three were exhibitions I actually got to take part in! The most recent was an exhibition at Kiff et Marais in Paris. When I received the email I squealed with excitement, the sheer disbelief that somehow a girl from rural Australia, who dreamt of getting out of her small town where she was laughed at for dreaming of moving overseas, somehow, somehow was exhibiting her work in PARIS. It still feels fake. The entire time it felt fake. Seeing my work collected on a wall, being proud of it, my writing up on display. I truly don’t know how to express what it meant to me. It is such a special feeling like achieving a goal you wouldn’t have dared dream 5 years ago.

We set up on Wednesday and the photographers filed in and we all got to work hanging everything. There were people with gloves on, hanging their work like precious pieces, me and my bare hands smudging the glass, and as the week wore on we got to know each other and it was sooooo lovely!! To be surrounded by people baring their dreams upon blank walls, to listen to their stories, to have passion spread thickly and fear only touch the outer reaches because we were doing it, we were doing something, doing it, living the dream.

On opening night we arrived, stood by our work and faced that awkward terror of approaching someone looking at your photos. Having only moved to France less than 2 years ago there was this missing piece on the opening night. I worried that it would feel empty without having the people I share my deepest friendships with. For my dearest friends to be so far from me, to not get to share this moment in my life was hard. So Emma and I invited all the people who have touched our lives since arriving and even though it was different to how I would have imagined it was also so affirming. So many beautiful people turned up! With flowers and kind words, with French translations to help me talk about my work in a language I am only at the beginning of, with excitement and joy and it meant so much to me. It was very much a movement in which we could see how much of a life we have been building. @ stacey from substack popped in (achieving my goal of meeting someone from substack this year) which was unbelievably cool and beautiful. The night was overwhelming and scary and beautiful and warm. I haven’t done that much talking in the longest time. By 8pm I was ready to clock out but stayed until near the end, when the people stopped pouring in and we artists finally had more of a chance to chat, get to know each other with the help of a glass of wine or two.

Opening night!

Over the next three days we sat like vultures staring at our next meal, perched in place around the long room. We talked about our dreams and how it felt to have someone engage with your work, how badly we wanted something to sell or how much we would prefer to be giving our work away for free to the people who fall in love with it. We spoke of the terror of not knowing what to say to someone, two fold for some of us whose French was not able to carry us through a complex conversation around art. I really weirdly would go up to people and be like “je suis les artists” gesture to my photos and then literally nothing else, just wring my hands and smile awkwardly and hope they would ask me a simple question I would know how to answer.

I did manage to have some of the most precious moments with people. A girl with a constellation of freckles fell in love with The Line and the piece of writing with it. She followed me on insta (@ephemeral_arts97 if you want to find me too!) and I found a piece of writing she had done in response to my work and holy shit I cannot tell you what that meant to me.

I had a few postcards of my work and at the end I did a little trade with everyone else who had postcards and got this gorgeous collection of mementoes.

Let me know if you’re interested in an artist and I’ll send you their instagram!

This exhibition reminded me why I make art. Why I love art. Why I will do anything to continue to have these experiences. As quiet moments passed and we talked about why we do this, as some of us questioned the courage it took to continue, I felt the stir of humanity. We try to connect with each other, we want to share the moments that are important to us, the passion that drives us. To make art and feel heard, be seen. To inspire and be inspired. The wishes we cast in our bedrooms becoming the ground on which we stand. That feeling of looking back at yourself and knowing how proud she would be, how in awe of the you now. All the tiny moments that lead you to the future, that feel like nothing until you turn back to see what they have built.