Friday, January 9, 2009

This is my studio. I have an entire beautiful room in the house designated solely for my creativity to manifest. I have everything I could possibly need for projects that would take me well into the next lifetime. I can do whatever I want to in this room; wear my pajamas all day long, stare out at the garden all year round (the tomato is still there by the way, red and hanging on!), I can keep it neat and clean when the rest of life seems chaotic. I can let it get messy without disturbing the rest of the house... A person- I- couldn't ask for more.
And yet there are times when I can't face the space because I've got nothing in me pressing to come out. And so I find myself walking into my studio and sheepishly walking out again...
As you can see, it's in the midst of a "letting it get messy" phase. A perfect illustration of a typical cycle in my creative routine. I was so inspired and productive for awhile. Not having enough time in a day to work on the things I dreamed of. Staying up way too late to keep going. Riding the wave of life, unable to conceive of the quiet tide that always follows. I thought, "this time it'll go on forever"!
And then, as always happens it just stops.
All that remains is the aftermath. The mess which must be cleaned up and rearranged before the next wave has room to build...
This is where the "studio avoidance" begins.
In order to start again there must be closure in the form of cleaning up and making space.
So now that I've procrastinated in every  possible way, from laundry to blogging to eating handful after handful of delicious salted nuts, I think I must go in and start clearing the way...
Okay, here I go.
Really.
Hey- did you hear about the...
No, no 
bye

4 comments:

  1. I like the first line of the post, this is my studio....in a bizarre way it reminds me of the Marine Corps prayer (in part only) "this is my rifle(Studio) there are many like it but this one is mine...."

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  2. I'd love to go exploring in that pretty room full of treasures.

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  3. Full sun, pressing past glass to a place in my head
    that lives forever in the summers of life
    like now, poking at the blue print on the screen
    and finding my daughter so near by

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