These shots show the new gallery at 90% of completion. Grand Opening tonight. Expect at least 300 people. It’ll be a riot.
Does moving to this enormous space involve a risk? Oh yeah. Couldn’t I have just stayed in our smaller gallery? Not if I wanted to grow. What will happen if my plan doesn’t succeed? I’ll fail. Do I consider that an option? No.
I can’t move this whole dream forward without a larger space. Yes, we burned a lot of capital renovating, and I spent much more time overseeing the work than I wanted, working 80-hour weeks to balance this transition with new business, old business, and everyday operations. So it’s a toss of the dice, again–and I find I’m compelled to toss those dice about once every couple of years. But I don’t really consider myself a risk-taker; rather I consider myself a risk manager. Either way you’re welcome to track us for the next year or two, see if we pull off the whole thing, or go down in flames.
As I believe you all know, you can’t realize great dreams without taking certain risks. It would have been far more comfortable, and less costly, to stay where we were. But I was being hampered by the limits of the space, location, etc. My new location offers only opportunity: a classroom for a whole range of instruction, endless floor and wall space, several offices for staff, a reading area for clients to sip coffee, and quiet little sleeping loft for afternoon naps.
Setting up this gig has damned near worn me out. But the whole time I was working so hard, pushing my body and mind to their absolute limits of endurance, I just kept thinking of how grateful I was. I mean rice farmers in Vietnam work this hard their whole lives, with almost no chance of breaking out. I have nothing but opportunity before me.
Yes, this move is a considerable risk, just like choosing to live the artist’s life itself is a risk (as if we have a moral choice). But I wouldn’t have it any other way.