a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.

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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

doubtful day

this morning i awoke to a bag full of doubts and frustrations....it has been forever since i've made any art. or felt inspired to make art. or had an inkling of an idea of a shadow of a project that excites me in any way. Left brain screams "you're no artist!" while Right brain uncharacteristically refuses to defend itself. usually the best ideas come on monday mornings while i'm getting ready to go to work. i have 2 half-started projects on my worktable....a metal piece and a wearable art piece. and i have to make some paper to attach a fiber piece to. but no thoughts on how to proceed with any of them. i keep saying i'm going to dedicate an entire day to a project, but which day? each is filled with errands and obligations, yet empty of inspiration. i've cleared my list of Things That Must Be Done Only On This Day, and still....nothing. i've tried reading some inspirational blogs and books...nothing. right now i'm reading "Eat Pray Love." i wasn't sure if i'd like it , and brought it on vacation. i love it so far. just past the "Eat" part, and am just a few pages into "Pray." and i think there's an answer brewing in those pages....i haven't had time to be still and be centered and let my imagination breathe. the author talks about having a "monkey mind" when she tries to meditate....her thoughts swing from one thing to the next like a monkey in a tree, rather than settling in to the task. that's part of it for me. husband has different standards and Must Haves in order to feel comfortable in the house, and his list of "rules" is long and detailed. i spend a lot of my day trying to remember which lights on or off, which window open or closed. i disappoint myself for participating. i, too, have personal pet peeves but don't expect the world to conform. for instance, i hate getting my hands greasy. i'll muck it up in paint or dirt or almost any other thing, but grease just makes me yuk out. but i also don't expect to heave out anything greasy in the house. just don't stand between me and my Purell. i'm at that breaking tipping point again, can you tell? i need a vacation where i don't have to be in charge of planning, packing for everyone, making sure everyone gets to the flight on time, etc. i'll do all that for myself, but it is exhausting being the brain for everyone. and i guess i have to ask myself why i do it? am i a natural planner, making it my contribution? or is it my own control issue? when i was traveling Quebec with the band, one night i saw one of the managers trying to get 15 things done at once. i had nothing better to do than swat Black Flies, so i went over and starting helping with a mundane, but time-consuming, task. she was a very spiritual, grounded woman...one of those people you swear just sort of hovers over the ground. she told me that i have an innate ability to see the details of a job and to get it done. she was speaking in a universal sense, not just the envelope-licking task at hand. i guess that stuck in my head. and in thinking about it, i'm not such a control freak as far as other people are concerned. i do have good planning skills, but in This Life now, i find i am given the job of keeping a mental inventory of where everything is and knowing when this or that is due and how long it takes to get from here to there so we have to leave by whatever time. which would be easier if i wasn't then fought every step of the way. so i guess i'm getting a little closer to the answer as to why i'm too monkey-minded to make art right now. hunh. hmmm. perhaps if i just sit in my studio today...forget about the last few chores i need to accomplish (my contact lenses have sat at the eye doc for 8 weeks...a few days more won't matter) get some music going (because i CAN) and just breathe in the welcoming, forgiving smell of paint and rusty things and butterfly wings, perhaps the fragrance of a thought of a shadow of an idea will tease my senses, and my hands will be inspired to cooperate with the internal music that will become art. Maybe i'll shower first. L.

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