I’ve been thinking of my friend David Cunningham a lot this week.
David ran a gallery for a few years, David Cunningham Projects, and that was how I met him back in 2007. He was one of those people, from the moment we met, it felt like we had always known each other, and my husband and I would often wander over to his gallery not just to see what he was exhibiting but also to talk, sometimes for hours, about life, art, whatever.
After I had my daughter and David closed his gallery, I didn’t see him as often, but he and I kept in touch via email, and I always looked forward to when I would reconnect with him. The last time we spoke, I said I’d be in touch when I had enough work done in the studio for it to be worthwhile for him to come take a look, and we were going to do the studio visit and then have lunch. That was just over a year ago, and I recently made a list in my studio journal that included contacting David because I felt like I finally had a good body of work for him to take a look at.
Then last weekend a friend asked me if I knew David Cunningham had passed away.
He had battled cancer for eleven months and died on August 29. He was 48.
So what do you do with that?
Apparently what I do is say, “God damn it, David!” quite regularly when I’m working in the studio.
And put one foot in front of the other. Or one color.
And then I looked at these panels and realized the backgrounds are not developed enough, so they too are starting to get more layers of color.
I am still angry about David. But after many days of “god damn it”, something else starting running through my mind:
Make it beautiful. Make it now.
So this week, here’s to David, and here’s to making it beautiful. And making it now.