I have to admit to suffering a small bout of Post Exhibition Blues. Not an uncommon ailment. In fact, in another role it is something for which I attempt to prepare exhibiting artists. All that work, that build up, that emotional investment... then... that's it... and you are not quite sure what happened.
A writer friend of mine once likened parenting a child to pulling your heart from your chest and letting it wander around on it's own (not quite her literary words but you get the gist). I feel similarly about exhibiting work. Exposed and vulnerable. And also open to judgement, good, bad, indifferent or 'don't get it'. Despite the fame-grabbers, in reality I don't think there are many people who enjoy this limelight.
Not that I'm complaining (oh my god I am so complaining!). There are many fantastic reasons to exhibit. Not least of all, to step back yourself and take a long, hard look at what you are doing and see how it stands up in a public domain. It's a risk and a challenge and a steep learning curve. And I do love to learn.
So... good... but... phew, sometimes I make myself kind of pooped!