The New Black

I followed a black line for a decade.

L-R. Paula Silbert, Kerry Chittleborough, Jenny Hoad, Robyn Smith, Black Line.

L-R. Paula Silbert, Kerry Chittleborough, Jenny Hoad, Robyn Smith, Black Line.

I did it for a decade.

Fifty metres there. Fifty metres back.

Up. Down. Repeat. Up. Down. Repeat.

I was a swimmer. A good one.

I won medals and trophies and smelled of chlorine.

I didn’t know in those growing years, that life would present many black lines.

L-R Lane 1: Paula Silbert, Lane 2: Debbie Dryen.

L-R Lane 1: Paula Silbert, Lane 2: Debbie Dryen.

But, when I got my first arts job I saw others and their metaphoric black lines.

Throwing a pot. Creating a perfect brush stroke. Mixing paint and dye…

Over and over again. 

The focus, the finessing. The training.

Hours, days, weeks, years, decades.

Up. Down, Repeat. Up. Down, Repeat.

Successes and crushing losses.

Intense practice. No matter what.

Little wonder we reverently call artists ‘practitioners’.