Hiatus
February 7, 2025
From the Merriam-Webster dictionary - “This brief hiatus in your day is brought to you by, well, hiatus. While the word now most often refers to a temporary pause, hiatus originally referred to a physical opening in something, such as the mouth of a cave. Hiatus comes from the Latin verb hiare, meaning “to open wide,” which makes it a distant relation of both yawn and chasm. And that’s all we have for now—you may resume your regular activities.”
After weeks of deliberating, I have decided that I will step back from the competition circuit this year. I’m going on hiatus. I thought about it last year, decided against it and went on to have my best competition season yet, much to my surprise. The truth is, I deliberate the question of whether or not to compete every year. Competitions are time consuming. It CAN be rewarding. It WILL be time-consuming.
2024 was one for my record books. Five competitions and three awards. First Place, Third Place and a Photo Journalism Award. Fun! Extraordinarily validating! At the same time, the year started with heartbreak and ended with a major medical event. In between were months of soul searching and grief. A reader friend of mine spoke of a book entitled “Wintering - The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times.” I like wintering better than hiatus. Wintering is poetic and descriptive. Wintering sounds like there’s a purpose. Hiatus sounds like a vacation. Wintering evokes thoughts of comfy sweats, cozy throws and hot coffee. Comforting things during a season of contemplation, investigation and repair. At this moment, I feel like I’ve walked through the fire and am now beginning to emerge with a peace of mind that only time and test can produce. Time to get back to normal, right?
Probably not.
I began my artist career in 2018. I flew out of the gate and went gangbusters for two years. At the end of 2019, I was drained from numerous competitions, two co-op galleries and memberships in several art organizations. It was a lot of running and doing. I deliberated my path forward and decided that I’d reduce the competitions in 2020. Instead, the pandemic reduced the entire world to a standstill. No decision there. My husband and son came home to work and ‘chief cook and bottlewasher’ took on a whole new meaning for me. As things started to slowly open up at the beginning of 2021, I considered the competition circuit once again. I came to the startling realization that I had nothing new to submit. Most competitions have a requirement that the work submitted has been created in the last 2-3 years. I had created very little in the last 2-3 years. I realized that much of my best work was created before I became an “artist.” Much of my best work had been created while I was still full throttle into learning and experimenting, which, I have since concluded, is my joy.
As I discussed my thoughts concerning 2025 with John, this question kept coming up: what is my problem? I have been a very successful competitor in the juried show arena. There have been a few times when I have met a rejection with relief. John offered solutions to my as of yet undefined resistance, and his undying support to help me with the work of it all. I continued to feel uneasy. I was definitely unenthused. I continued ask myself the question: what is my problem? I began to discern that the feeling that I got when I thought about it was pressure. I felt pressure. Second question: the pressure of what?
The pressure of deadlines.
The pressure of having to produce.
I participate, on average, in five to six competitions per year. This requires some very careful planning. I have a Google calendar just for the shows. Each show has its own color code. There are multiple deadlines for each competition. One to submit. One to drop off the work. One to attend the reception. And, one to pick up the work, when the show is over. My planning starts in January to figure out which artworks will go where. Which ones do I need to assemble and by when. There are files to format and properly title. Forms to fill out and labels to attach. Artwork to pack for transport. Miles to drive. It’s a lot.
The Merriam-Webster definition of hiatus, quoted above, says that the word hiatus comes from the Latin verb hiare, meaning to open wide. Maybe that’s it. This is an opportunity to open up the path at my feet to get back to learning and experimenting and creating. I hope so. The blazing fires of my creativity are smoldering and it’s my sincere hope that the new, bad-ass photo editing monitor that I recently purchased is not for naught. The above definition goes on to say that hiare is a distant relation of both yawn and chasm. I’ll interpret yawn to mean I will have more time for naps and sleeping in. My new found peace of mind says that I have reached a season in my life wherein it’s ok to do that.
The beauty of this situation is that, in the end, this dilemma and decision is of no real consequence. It is a pause from one aspect of what I do to promote my work and, truth be told, my work is not essential. Not to the world and not even to us. My hiatus may be temporary or it may not. Time will tell. My wintering, I suspect, is not yet over.
Truth be told, I wrote this post to convince myself that I’m making the right decision, lol!
Cheers!
PS - I’ll see you at the receptions
