This week was a bit disappointing, being billed as the week we'd tackle "another major creative block: time." More a rehash of mistreatment or suppression themes--enough, awready with the blaming and poor self-esteem! Even so, I enjoyed some of the tasks and they prompted some creative thinking.
1. Morning notes: 6/7. Feeling smug, thinking I'd done my notes all week, it dawned on me I didn't do them this morning. I had a roast surrounded by veggies in the oven by 8:30 this morning, so between that, coffee and Sunday paper, followed by a parade of delightful children and grandchild all day, I never thought about notes! Like Sophie, I need a 30-hour day to do all the morning activities I'm trying to do.
2. My artist date sounds lame: I purchased a sketchpad and colored pencils and spent a couple of hours trying to sketch, something I don't think I've done since childhood. (I learned vanishing-point perspective drawing in design school, but it's not the same.) A departure point is the toughest part of writing, and it is the same with drawing. But the color schemes task (#3) was my starting point and images came quickly. I enjoy Danny Gregory [Glover]'s blog and find myself wanting to try this form of expression. I don't for a minute think there is anywhere to go but up, but at least the images are recognizable to me. I spent the rest of the day on the Tennessee Waltz quilt I was pretty far into, before all the painting and setting up of sewing studio began two months ago. At last I am back in business.
I intended to see the last day of a reportedly fabulous Impressionist exhibition at our Tennessee State Museum, but after running errands and buying my sketchpad, I settled for and thoroughly enjoyed the down time of just drawing and not doing anything. This may be why I'm artist-date resistant—it's just one more thing on an already-long weekend to-do list. I got more from my quiet time alone than from driving uptown, finding parking, and walking several blocks to the museum (winter finally blew into Nashville this weekend, augmented by howling winds on Saturday).
3. I'm not sure how open I was to finding synchronicity this week, but there was one odd instance. My well-traveled daughter casually mentioned a desire to see the aforementioned Impressionist exhibit, and I responded with mention of having gone to the Hudson River School exhibit the previous weekend. We were each surprised to learn the other had gone to the same exhibit, totally unknown to the other. (She hasn't lived here in seven years, and museums weren't high on her list back then. I think the travel has influenced her interest in art, much to my delight.)
4. Without question the week's most significant issue was acting on my decision to reduce my Sit & Sew days to alternate Wednesdays. That may sound counter-creative, but it's a positive move. I enjoy the group and the improvement of my heirloom sewing skills, but I've realized this past year I'm not getting out of it what I should be; it's costing way more than I'm getting out of it; and I've probably achieved as much expertise as I'm interested in right now. It was hard for me to act, because I like my teacher and she is very accommodating, as well as dependent on our fees. But she was gracious and let me off the emotional hook (what choice did she have, really?). Since time is my big issue, I'll now have more of it and more money too, so I feel less burdened. Resuming the long-delayed work on the Tennessee Waltz is very positive too.
For risks, I (1) rallied my courage to let my teacher down a little, thereby giving myself more choice as to how I spend my time, and (2) daydreamed about the lovely batiks I bought last week (my first) and played around with my EQ5, creating a Winding Ways quilt for sweet daughter #1, using the brightest jewels of the batiks—colors, fabrics, and a design I've never used before.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
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10 comments:
Here's a little more synchronicity for you: I had the same aha experience with my morning pages--had a great week then realized I hadn't done them that morning.
Also like you, I am now chosing low-key, easy Artist Dates, away from the madding crowd.
I don't think your artist date sounds lame at all...there is something magical about a new sketchpad and new pencils...and especially if you haven't let yourself sketch for so long, it was indeed your Artist Child coming out to play...a fine date, if you ask me!
I don't worry about the pages being in the morning or not...sometimes I get around to them right before bed...makes for some 'interesting' dreams..
Thanks, Suze. I think, like you and Sophie have figured out, maybe if the planned Artist Date sounds like a hassle, it's better just to play by myself!
Just sitting for a while and drawing sounds delightful. I'm going to take Suze's advice and start doing those morning pages when I go to bed.
I like that, morning pages before I go to bed. It might calm my head down and let me sleep better. Don't most people journal in the evenings anyway?
Funny, this morning I too was thinking about Suze's preference to do evening pages, and I have decided to do the same. Maybe it will help me make sense of the day after it has happened.
Looks like there's a lot of us finding it difficult to write in the morning. Now I don't feel so guilty about it.
Jane Ann, I am so delighted that you are sketching. You will get hooked, I bet. It really does get the creative juices flowing! Jen
I was just re-reading your original post and your comment
"For risks, I (1) rallied my courage to let my teacher down a little, thereby giving myself more choice as to how I spend my time" jumped out at me. It's funny how, even if it's something we enjoy, it sometimes robs us of the time and energy we would rather put towards something else, or sometimes, blessedly, nothing at all. I know I get caught up sometimes and forget that I actually have a choice on how I spend my time.
Cathy and Gemia really hit it on the head for me. Gemia said she thought she was lured by too many new techniques and ideas. And Cathy agrees that it's easy to take up our time doing things we no longer enjoy or have outgrown. I realized that much of my complaining about not having enough time is due to spreading myself too thin, in many ways. I'm going to try being more selective about what I REALLY want to spend my effort on. (Kinda like going to the pet shop or the maternity ward and seeing all those beautiful babies--of COURSE you want to take them all home, but does that mean you SHOULD?)
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