I’ve been really frazzled lately. Too much to do in too little time. And the focus is mostly business issues: photography, shipping, customs clearance, exhibits, etc. AND painting. Fun and games. But lots of pressure to get it all done and to do it right away. Deadlines. I enjoy working under pressure, the painting part. Knowing that someone will see the work. It’s the other stuff, the business stuff, that is more stressful. I have an intense panic with governmental issues, dealing with the clerical mentalities I often find there. (I had to go to Customs last week to clear a shipment from a gallery in Kentucky, returning work, wanting new work. It did go easily, but I was nervous, to say the least!)
When I immigrated to Canada, it was a lot harder than I had expected. All seemed to go well at first: application, interview, apparent acceptance, medical exams, then wait for the OK letter. I had already sold my loft in Manhattan, bought a house in Nova Scotia (in Sambro Head), and shipped my belongings, expecting to find a positive letter in my mailbox before I left. Instead I received a “Thank you, but no thank you” note. Apparently the man who had been working with my file was transferred to Jamaica and the new person decided to say no. I packed up my (new) car, put my dog Miranda in with me, and drove here anyway. (Where else was I to go?) Aaron was to follow later in the summer. When here, I had to get a temporary permit for myself and my belongings and then had to renew it several times. Aaron seemed to have good luck getting school permits.
And I reapplied three more times for immigrant status. I was told “there are more artists in Nova Scotia than any other province” and I had to prove that I was not just another artist (reference letters, proof of sales, gallery commitments in the U.S., etc.). The fourth time I was accepted, finally. (Maybe they were tired of saying no!) Just before that, on one of my return trips from NYC, I stopped at the border to renew my permit and was told by the officer that she would not let me in.
“Obviously,” she said, “you want to live in Nova Scotia and you have to wait until you are granted immigrant status.
“What to you want me to do? Go back to New York today?”
“Yes,” she said.
“What about my dog (Katie)?”
“Where’s your dog?”
“In Chester.”
She didn’t know where Chester was, which made her seem very dumb to me (everyone knows where Chester is, right!), but she gave me one month to go in and get my things. I had it extended to two months. Then when I was in Vermont waiting (and Aaron stayed here with friends), I received my papers and here I am (and Aaron is in Montreal now).
A couple of years later I received a phone call from Immigration asking that, since I have been so successful here, would I be willing to counsel new immigrants in my field. Of course I would, but they have never called again. Maybe it was a crank call, a bureaucrat amusing himself. I can laugh about it now, but I still don’t enjoy anything to do with the clerical side of government.
Going to Cape Breton was a big change in the tone of my summer. It was all play—meeting people I hope to continue to know, enjoying, celebrating. For the Wedding Adventure I didn’t take any of my business stuff with me, other than the beautiful cards Aaron designed for me.
And I came home and jumped in my lake. For the first time this summer. The weather has been so lousy and I’ve been so busy, it was all so very refreshing. Now the pressure is off (I hope) for the next three weeks. Then I go to Montreal for a couple of days to visit Aaron & Jessica, to Los Angeles to visit Tamar, Dan & Damian, to San Francisco for an exhibit of my work at the Linda Fairchild Gallery (I hope to see you there, September 9!).