The Liminal Pause
I’ve noticed there’s this little phenomenon that occurs after I’ve been preparing for a big event or an exhibit. It’s like a natural liminal pause I take between the preparation and the “big day.” I wanted to take a moment to pay homage to the importance of it and the way it spoke to me just this week…
The house is often dim. I sit, presently observing stacks of paintings bathed in lamplight. I’ve spent the last hour cleaning from the floor scraps of mat board and cardboard from days of framing paintings. My head aches slightly from thinking too much, my fingers and back feel stiff from long days spent hunched over my workbench cutting mat, installing glass, and twisting coarse hanging wire through d-rings.
My home sleeps. It’s silent, save for the soft snores of the sleeping dog lying next to me on the rug. Everything has been checked off my list of to-do’s and all there is left to do is tuck myself in for the night.
But I don’t, not quite yet.
It is as if these paintings, this art, this work, beckons me to sit and be with them, to acknowledge the bustling movement and productivity that has come to a close, and to allow my gaze to fall upon all that has been made manifest through my spirit and hands.
It is in this moment that something immense washes over my being.
It is this — absolute astonishment that we humans have this powerful capacity to create if only we are willing to allow our dreams a chance to breathe. That we have the ability, if we wish to exercise it, to shape and create the lives we envision. We are that powerful.
I realize in this moment that I have redefined what success means to me, that it has evolved. It is no longer the amount of paintings that sell or the amount of art fairs I get into, it is knowing that what I want is available to me, as long as I am willing to reach out and grab it. Some days this comes easy, and some days I have to tenaciously dig and grind and the dreams manifest through deep healing and through tears of frustration and moments of total surrender, but it always, always, always shows up.
I had the opportunity to experience this again when I finished hanging up all of these paintings at New Scenic Café. I took my last walk-through after over two hours of envisioning where to hang each piece, hammering nails into beautiful wooden walls, and placing all the labels by their respective paintings.
I stepped back, I took a great, deep inhale, smiled to myself and whispered, “here we go.”
I feel extremely grateful to experience the ever-changing, and dynamic qualities that make creative living the way that it is. I find that what it lacks in consistency and safety, it makes up for in mystery, novelty, and the joy of true growth and expansion — the things that make being human truly wonderful and unique.
a brand new exhibit
Katie Bromme Watercolor at
New Scenic Café
I am so honored and absolutely ecstatic to announce that 31 of my original watercolor paintings are now on display at the New Scenic Café in Duluth, MN.
This is the most expansive collection of originals I have ever displayed. You’ll find a wide range of sizes and seasons represented in all of the art — from muted winterscapes to vibrant summer lakescapes, from miniature paintings to some of the largest works I have ever created.
You’ll also find an array of prints, greeting cards, and greeting card sets displayed at the front, these are available for purchase through the restaurant as well. If you’ve never dined here, you’re in for a treat. As a bit of a foodie myself, it’s my favorite place for a date night with my honey and my favorite lunch spot to meet up with my Mom. The food is to-die-for and the service is always superb.
For those of you eager to sneak a peek at the exhibit, I’ve added a more in-depth description and virtual walk-through on the Exhibits page of my website.