A Funeral & An Eviction

My aunt Luli was someone you would call free-spirited.

I guess it ran in the family because my mom was the same way. The difference being that while both of them loved to be free and have fun, Luli liked to push potential into greatness. She was assertive, a business woman, and loved to help people grow into the best versions of themselves.

Her last request was that her family gather to her favorite place and spread her ashes in the ocean — in Cancun, Mexico. Throughout our trip we’d pause to marvel at how crazy the idea was. We’d cry at the thought of her absence and then laugh because we knew she’d be laughing at us for being sad in such a beautiful place surrounded by family.

And it really was beautiful. The ceremony, the hotel, the company. I still can’t believe I was there.

I got back from my aunt's funeral to find out I've been kicked out of my artist residency & studio at Gallery Skye.

Despite the owner approving my lending the key out to her family friend's young daughter who was interning for me, she said I'd become a liability to the gallery. For lending the key to someone they knew I was training out of my studio, who they've known for at least a decade, to represent me while I had to be unexpectedly out of town. And apparently for letting that same intern in to retrieve her art from the gallery the night she too was evicted from the space.

It was excessive to say the least to subtly threaten me with her attorney after asking to change the prorated end date, because they had already changed the locks on me. And after so many requests on their part for feedback and ideas, to say I'm "running over" them is sad.

I went to move out of the studio today and when I went to ask for the prorated check that was promised, was met with another surprise.

That the Curator and owner both would sit there and call me and my hardworking friends criminals, accuse us of "criminal activity," breaking and entering, and question whether I had stolen from the gallery was something I never expected. That they would suddenly try to hold the check they never intended on writing so that they could sit and lecture me about my disrespect toward them when all throughout my time there I had to listen to them gossip about me and my bad attitude, each other, and other people in the gallery from their office. I'm shocked. Appalled. And honestly embarrassed for ever having allowed my business to be run from a place managed by people like this.

"She's a cop, she would know."

Know what? What a criminal/criminal activity looks like? What does that look like? Me and my friends working hard in a place we're unwanted? I can only guess.

How do you run a business without having the ability to have proper conflict resolution or accept critique?

It's a shame to see a gallery have such little value and respect for their artists or the livelihood of those artists' business. Especially one that claims to be committed to building a community.

I'm so tired. And just very sad.