64% Sales Dip
17 Art Festivals Canceled
23,000 Fewer Miles Traveled
0 Murals Created
0 New Passport Stamps
2 States Visited
0 New Cities Explored
3 Encounters with Earthly Angels
1 Momentous Sculpture Created
1 Dream Unexpectedly Realized
1 Giant Silver Lining
There have been some articles going around the internet comparing this past year to a dumpster fire and I must admit, they give me a chuckle. Not one of those light-hearted easy-going giggles but a deeper, guttural snort of a laugh that comes from a place of shared pain. It’s the sort of chuckle that escapes you when a loved one, let’s say your child, takes a clumsy tumble or runs headlong into a tree while being chased in the yard (that’s a story for another blog). You don’t want to laugh but it just comes out and it’s because you know that pain and now they do too.
2020 has been hard. That sentence may give you a knowing snicker or a teary-eyed nod but whatever the reaction, know that we feel your pain and our hearts go out to you. Like many of you, we’ve had to adapt and that process can be a struggle. From a typical year of nonstop travel and a whirlwind of art adventure to twelve months of mostly being home, home-schooling our outgoing 7 year-old while trying to figure out how to keep our business and our livelihoods afloat. Oh, and throw in a three-nager who doesn’t respect mealtime or sleep time or the gentle guidance of his stressed parents which quickly turns into loud guidance. All of this while we try to navigate George Floyd, a contentious election in a purple state, and COVID-19. I remember countless serious conversations Ashley and I attempted to have over stir-crazy tornado-children while drinking wine and trying not to cry or get too angry. That scene sums up a lot of the year. Like I said, 2020 was a dumpster fire.
Ashley’s quarantine cut
Tyler’s quarantine cut
Orin bothering Ivan in homeschool while wearing Christmas jammies in the middle of the day in September.
But the dumpster fire comparisons always come up short as they’re not taken to the next logical step. As the flames flare and the heat rises, the contents of this metaphorical dumpster begin to meld and the dumpster becomes a sort of crucible. In the heat, impurities are burned off, atoms and molecules are freed and these reinvigorated compounds recombine into a brand new creation. In a typical dumpster, this new creation is just a hot wad of melted plastic. But in the Dumpster Fire of 2020, all the gobs of stress and chunks of cancelation have amalgamated into something incredible and unexpected: The Lamplighter sculpture.
A literal HUGE dream realized.
We’ll get more into the inspiration and story behind this momentous creation in next month’s blog, but know this: The Lamplighter sculpture would’ve never happened if 2020 wasn’t such a (pardon my French) shitstorm.
Initially, Ashley and I had set aside two months in the Spring to create The Lamplighter sculpture. We thought it was plenty of time to get in the groove and crank it out. What escaped us in the planning stages is that making something so massive using a process unfamiliar to us would take EIGHT MONTHS, not two. I had to learn to weld. Ashley had to learn how to tell me my ideas were lousy without offending me. We had to gather the antiquated tools. We had to figure out how to transport such a giant work of art safely. We had to learn how electricity works. And the list goes on and on…
Buying the welder on Valentine’s Day pre-pandemic. We were so innocent.
But amidst all the struggle and frustration, there were also countless little beautiful moments: gazing at my gorgeous wife atop the scaffolding with a rusty wrench in her grasp, finding the perfect piece for the brim of the hat while on a lunch date at local antique shops, seeing a neighbor stop by with an awesome old wrench he found in his barn, updating the local school children on the progress as they walk by for a nature walk, hearing our kids tell their friends about “the sculpture” like it’s no big deal. There was joy in the process and we found our share of it. Ashley jokes that it was eight months of unplanned marriage counseling but out of the strife, we made something magical and grew stronger in the process.
Old rusty tools.
The piles of stuff only got bigger
Work, work, work.
The Lamplighter set up and complete in its first public showing, and still happily married.
Sometimes it takes a fire to clear away the chaff. Sometimes we face hardships to prepare us to take on bigger challenges. And sometimes, our biggest visions actually come to life amidst the struggle and the pain.
So go and get yourself a metaphorical (or real) dumpster, put 2020 in it, light it up and bask in the warmth of the flames. From all the unexpected upheaval that 2020 has brought, a new year will emerge from the ashes of the past year and it is full of wonderful possibilities.
The Lamplighter sculpture is on display in downtown Manistee, Michigan until January 3 and this interview I did with Channel 9 & 10 gives you a great glimpse into the experience if you can’t make it up there.
From the Fourhees, we hope that you have a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a joyous New Year!
Onward!
A lot of bro time this year
All the time in the world…
for all the holiday traditions.
Plenty of visits to Michigan’s sugar sand beaches…
year round.