I'm pleased to say that I have left the 9-5 workforce in favor of making my dreams come true in the ways of creative work and living the American dream. In this brave new world, I'm finding that I'm standing on the edge of something powerful I've only dreamed of getting this close to before. Its not only great, but numbing. Now that I'm here, what do I do? What efforts do I need to make? Where should I focus my attention? How do I go further than this?
In looking into myself for answers, I come up remarkably blank.
This has been the trouble, however, for awhile. Its nothing new. Same ol' too much to do and not enough time. Same ol' money first, creativity last. Same ol' peripheral tasks that numb my brain and consume my energy. On top of that, a terrific partner who deserves and gets a lot of my quality time.
Its not that I don't have time to do work - its more that I'm the type of person that is likely to act on motivation to avoid pain than to derive pleasure or, in the case of my work, to act on something just because I believe in it, not because it was sold to me by somebody else. I'm the type that will take care of everything I can, then worry about the stuff I can't. A career I need to develop is begging to find leads. Another person is interested in my presence in one place where I can develop a little faster. The wedding countdown is on, and a disturbing number of items have yet to be taken care of. And I have a lot of art that just sits here. It feels a little stale. Inwardly, I'm being torn bit by bit by all of the stresses of this new venture, including failures of my own intuition. Those hurt the most: something you obviously should have seen coming hits your face out of left field. I guess that happens more when you have your eye on the prize. But in thinking of working on my art - there is simply nothing left inside to work from. I tweeted: "Sometimes I wonder if the art is lost". Last night was one of those times.
In my current situation, I opened my studio door last night for the first time in weeks. I sat in the middle of the floor for awhile. The space was unkempt, but the energetic buzz in there was unmistakable. I had been cultivating and hiding this creative energy for years, and it wasn't lost, it was just behind this door that I literally forgot to open. Still, I looked inside myself to find my next project. You could hear a pin drop in there, it was so empty. So what the heck was I doing? How did I get this far only to lose my true gut motivation to make art? What the heck?
My mind began to wander to all that was going wrong, and then landed on a particular memory where I felt mistreated, belittled, and really friggin helpless to do anything about it. My feeling was that I was solidly in a perspective of truth there too - there wasn't going to be anything I could do about it. And then it hit - so what exactly is the "right" thing to do with this sentiment?
In contemplative moments of distrust and remorse, forgiveness is not automatic: there needs to be a shift in perspective that leads the charge to healing. And I needed to offer forgiveness to the situation, but that's not what motivated what came next. In a tiny window of respect for all things, including this crap, I offered my well wishes to this person to overcome their own obstacles as I hoped to overcome mine.
Boom.
The remorse vanished and I suddenly felt twice my own size. I wished this again. Same thing! I wished it and I wished it and I wished it and a flood of bliss washed over me. Then I moved to others - I wished that they overcome their obstacles as I knew them, whether they were wronging me or not. When I opened my eyes, I recognized my studio as I used to know it - a room of my own for infinite possibility. But it was filthy! Ugh. Time to clean.
I didn't exactly clean after that, more like organized major supplies between my office and my studio, as much of what I had been storing in these two rooms was actually meant for the other. I re-familiarized myself with the supplies in each and prepped each room to be worked in again. I moved a lot of extraneous storage items out. And I figured out why I wasn't doing so well with the art work.
It became obvious when I had opened my eyes before and it was so true! Then I remembered I had said this in an interview in this video. I had learned to make art from clues from inside, from a desire to create, and had used the process to move past pain and suffering. In my March exhibit, I had realized that the process of moving past everything was complete. I had learned everything that could teach me, and now that the Pixels had moved off the canvas and back to the computer, and now that they had served their purpose in guiding me through processing healing, it is time to focus outward. Move along. GTFO. Its time to look and listen and create about stuff in the outside world. I've graduated. Its over. Get a job.
Twitterscapes are successful art because they are outwardly focused. They take context from Art and from the(*ahem best announcer voice) "Social Media Revolution" and unite the two. This is pretty good - I know I can grow it, however. So with painting, what now exactly? Well, There are some unfinished pieces in my studio and I have found a bunch of very specific junk that I'd love to apply to my work (got any ideas for a whole bunch of dental floss?) One thing I'm going to try to do is paint in the Cancer ward at the UNM hospital.
The bad news is that I have no idea what I'm doing. The good news is that I have a new place to look for answers. New work up soon, but for now, expect quiet contemplation from me as I attempt to discover a way that only I can make an impact.
In my current situation, I opened my studio door last night for the first time in weeks. I sat in the middle of the floor for awhile. The space was unkempt, but the energetic buzz in there was unmistakable. I had been cultivating and hiding this creative energy for years, and it wasn't lost, it was just behind this door that I literally forgot to open. Still, I looked inside myself to find my next project. You could hear a pin drop in there, it was so empty. So what the heck was I doing? How did I get this far only to lose my true gut motivation to make art? What the heck?
My mind began to wander to all that was going wrong, and then landed on a particular memory where I felt mistreated, belittled, and really friggin helpless to do anything about it. My feeling was that I was solidly in a perspective of truth there too - there wasn't going to be anything I could do about it. And then it hit - so what exactly is the "right" thing to do with this sentiment?
In contemplative moments of distrust and remorse, forgiveness is not automatic: there needs to be a shift in perspective that leads the charge to healing. And I needed to offer forgiveness to the situation, but that's not what motivated what came next. In a tiny window of respect for all things, including this crap, I offered my well wishes to this person to overcome their own obstacles as I hoped to overcome mine.
Boom.
The remorse vanished and I suddenly felt twice my own size. I wished this again. Same thing! I wished it and I wished it and I wished it and a flood of bliss washed over me. Then I moved to others - I wished that they overcome their obstacles as I knew them, whether they were wronging me or not. When I opened my eyes, I recognized my studio as I used to know it - a room of my own for infinite possibility. But it was filthy! Ugh. Time to clean.
I didn't exactly clean after that, more like organized major supplies between my office and my studio, as much of what I had been storing in these two rooms was actually meant for the other. I re-familiarized myself with the supplies in each and prepped each room to be worked in again. I moved a lot of extraneous storage items out. And I figured out why I wasn't doing so well with the art work.
It became obvious when I had opened my eyes before and it was so true! Then I remembered I had said this in an interview in this video. I had learned to make art from clues from inside, from a desire to create, and had used the process to move past pain and suffering. In my March exhibit, I had realized that the process of moving past everything was complete. I had learned everything that could teach me, and now that the Pixels had moved off the canvas and back to the computer, and now that they had served their purpose in guiding me through processing healing, it is time to focus outward. Move along. GTFO. Its time to look and listen and create about stuff in the outside world. I've graduated. Its over. Get a job.
Twitterscapes are successful art because they are outwardly focused. They take context from Art and from the(*ahem best announcer voice) "Social Media Revolution" and unite the two. This is pretty good - I know I can grow it, however. So with painting, what now exactly? Well, There are some unfinished pieces in my studio and I have found a bunch of very specific junk that I'd love to apply to my work (got any ideas for a whole bunch of dental floss?) One thing I'm going to try to do is paint in the Cancer ward at the UNM hospital.
The bad news is that I have no idea what I'm doing. The good news is that I have a new place to look for answers. New work up soon, but for now, expect quiet contemplation from me as I attempt to discover a way that only I can make an impact.