Project Log and Map Making

My little project log sheet.... so I can keep track of how my projects are going, and if I am ignoring something... like myself.

I've been thinking lately about how I manage the ups and downs of life.

I don't know if I would manage so well if I didn't have my creativity to, not only sustain me, but also to figure it all out.

The benefit of the creative habit. You look for new solutions. You look for new ways to see old problems. You look for connections between things. You look for cause and effect. You look for harmonies and dissonances.

I find that I've been doing a lot of doodling to figure out what I need to do next. How odd that I would end up doodling logs and calendars and lists. Is this a doodle? Is this something that my subconscious tells me I need?

I suppose so.

I did get a little lost there in the business of it all for a while. Lost the goals, lost the routines, lost the motivation.

Maybe all my calendaring and logging and marking down of what I want and where I want to go is a kind of map making, a way to find myself where I am.

What kind of map making do you do in your life?

When you get lost, how do you find your way back to yourself?

Funnily enough, as I've just made this connection that I am making maps of my life and my mind, I feel the need to go upstairs and sketch out some more maps. Name my place. Discover where/who/what I am.

"One Complete Thought Would Be Nice"

"One Complete Thought Would Be Nice"
3/27/09
Mixed Media drawing on antique book page, 4 1/2"x 7"

I'm doing this while making hamburgers. Yes. Multi tasking. Distraction. I have so much to say, but so little time to pull my thoughts together.

In fact, while drawing this picture, my thought process-- one that was trying to do as the 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women was directing and Plan to Achieve My Goals-- was interrupted by a two year old who was directing me to draw houses and "popsiple" trees. So this painting represents the difficulty of planning a cohesive thought, let alone goal, while trying to do a million and one things.

But, I'm kind of stubborn, and if I decide something is important and I can't get at it the way I want to, then I find another way, so while the kids took their nap (aka sat in their room playing and resisting nap) I went out into the garden and thought about where the last 12 weeks have led me.

Not coincidentally, I have finished my Portfolio Project-- because the project and the book were both twelve weeks long, and I started them at the beginning of January. We're 1/4 of the way through the year!

So I took stock of my 12 weeks. I've come far, opening my etsy shop , stocking it with 32 pieces so far, and selling my first artworks to people who don't already know me. I've learned new avenues in the internet and discovered new directions I would like to go with it all. I've expanded my repertoire of art techniques and even started painting a little larger, which I've been scared to do for, oh, say 15 years. I've grown my blog readership and met wonderful blog folk. I've started my second blog where I can play a bit more with lovely things. I've taken up the guitar, badly, but finally, after longing to learn to play since I was 7. I started drawing again and using some of my favorite techniques of yore that I have let slide. I even wrote a couple of poems. One thing that I did not achieve that I wanted to was to finish the second draft of my novel.

Once I realized that the shop needed to have a lot of time dedicated to it, the writing time just disappeared. I'm hoping to pick it back up, but I'm still learning the business end, so I'm not sure how I'm going to fit in the writing again.

So that brings me to the planning my goals. I've got big goals for the next five years, including living off of writing, art and teaching. I'm good with diversifying-- there are a lot of things I want to do.

But I'm going to focus on the next twelve weeks... I guess another Portfolio Project, if anyone else is continuing to do so. Here are my new goals. I'll have to give them a try and find out if they are too big for the time span, which is what I found out about the last go round:

Expand my etsy shop:
increase sales and visibility.
add new paintings, prints and drawings.
add new "other things" (I've got a few ideas currently kicking around in my brain.)

Finish my second draft of my novel
write as often as possible (figure out a schedule that works with the rest of my day/plans)
get another critical reader
write a synopsis
start researching agents

Start publishing articles
research publications
write queries

Apply to artist grants
research
write
send

Work on my nonfiction creativity work
do an outline
write some articles developing it specifically
teach an e-course or something with the work I've been doing.

and the biggest goal:

Live my life and be HAPPY instead of always stressed out
make time for me without work
journaling
practicing guitar
alone time
reading
make time for S
play with kids more.
make real live friends and keep in touch with physically distant ones.
do more with family.
eat well.


It's a lot. I don't know if it's all doable. But if I set out on this journey and don't give up, the one guarantee is that I will get farther than if I just float around without any goals at all.

How about you... what would you like to do with the next quarter of your year? Spring is a lovely time for new goals.

Flying Girl Begins to See, or There is a Pattern

Flying Girl Begins to See, or There is a Pattern
3/9/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on Paper, 5"x8"

Holy Cow, my peoples.

I'm a little weirded out right now. A little confronted with long held, maybe not so true beliefs.

I'm selling art.

I'm a WORKING artist.

Do you know, I went to a liberal arts college instead of an art school because I didn't think it was possible to make money as an artist without "selling out." This is the legacy of being the daughter of a starving artist.

You see... it doesn't matter where you start out on this journey, you still have to get through your shiite.

So, here I am, and if it keeps going in this fashion, I will actually be making a living at this. A small living, but that's all I wanted.

I'm having a hard time believing that just sitting here is producing money.

But then, I step back from my issues and feelings (like how I feel like I am wasting my time, still, when I am sitting at the computer, the way I wasted my time by reading book after book. I was a guilty reader as a child) and I start to see how everything I have done-- not just in the last 10 weeks, but in the last 18 months since I hatched the etsy idea, or in the last 20 years since getting out of college, or even my whole life-- maybe even my ancestors' lives, has moved me towards this point. (How's that for a run on sentence?)

If I didn't think I could make a living as an artist, would I have studied English or become a teacher? Would I have left New York City to encounter another life? If my own personal economy hadn't crashed and burned, would I have thought about entering the marketplace? Even if I hadn't been so scared and put it off so long, trying to be prepared, would I have developed my work into what it has become?

I don't know. I don't know what this pattern of my life looks like or what it means or where it is going.

But I can see there is a pattern. I can see how things are connected.

Oh. Plus I love swirls. I used to fill notebooks in school with all sorts of swirls and mandalas and paisleys and grids and whatever fell out of my fingers and pen. So when the prompt for Illustration Friday was intricate, this is what fell out of my brush. If you look closely, you will see that the background is very similar to that last painting's background, but I needed to do "intricate" so I tried something unexpected. I like something about how the way it came out.

I also wanted to thank you all for your support. I am very thankful to all of you, long time readers, or new ones, buyers and lookers. I've decided I really do love the internet.

Oh yeah, and I'm posting the Roadblocks paintings today, so keep your eye out. I'll do this one, too.

Flying Girl On Her Way to the Moon, or Take The Leap

Flying Girl On Her Way to the Moon, or Take The Leap
3/1/09
Golden Fluid Acrylics on Paper, 5x8"

Moon is the prompt for this week's Inspire Me Thursday. Dreams is the totally optional theme for this month's Creative Everyday. Karen at Beelieve painted a flying girl and my flying girl followed hers into space. Plus I had a new violet paint color that I wanted to try out. It seemed appropriate for space, because I didn't really want it to be a dark painting, but a dreamy one.

I love it when you pull on various threads for your inspiration and something unforeseen appears. Reach for the moon. Follow your dreams.

This is also about fears, which I wrote about in the Instinct FG post, and which I just read about over on Havi's blog. Fears and dreams. Taking the leap. Letting the fears be acknowledged... and taking the leap anyway and going for those dreams, because it's that important.

She's not wearing a space suit... although I like to think her dress has a metallic protective kind of shimmer about it. Okay, it's just gray. No helmet. No jet pack or space shuttle for that matter. This journey is under her own power. And I don't think purple heels offer much in the way of defense against the void.

She's not prepared for space... but look at that, she's almost reached her destination.

Flying Girl and Thief of Hearts, or Fear

Flying Girl and Thief of Hearts, or Fear
2/14/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic

I like to think of this blackbird flying away with her heart as a part of Flying Girl, herself. Where is her other glove? That thing that cradled her and kept her warm and holds her scent? Oh, it flew away as a bird, taking her courage with it.

I'm thinking about secret #6 in the 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women, and this is is my saboteur. Myself. My own doing. Giving away my power by giving my fear power.

To tell the truth, I am doing SO much better than I used to. I am recovering from my external saboteurs, and my fears. I have been working at it a long time. The more I can identify them, the less power over me they have.

The fear of being successful and of failure. The fear of criticism. The fear of being powerful. The fear of money. I am working on all of these things so hard. Often I can't address them head on, but have to go around the other side, sneaky like.

If I focus on doing my business cards, which I have been struggling with, and I go back to it 4 times, will I fool my fears into thinking each baby step is smaller than it is and I am not going to have to actually work my way up to owning my creativity, my business, my power?

If I stop revising my novel where I am stuck, and instead print it all out and go over it again, maybe with some coffee out in the garden while the kids are playing and the meatballs are on the crockpot (my first attempt at this, I'll tell you how it works out) will my gremlins get caught unawares?

If I keep painting every night, and build up a body of work, will my fears get pooh poohed away when I finally do get the shop opened, and all of a sudden have dozens of pieces for sale and I will actually be in business, instead of just thinking about it?

When Flying Girl catches that rogue blackbird and dons the power again... will she be able to use that power of fear to help her fly?

You know what? I just realized I am farther along in my process than I thought I was. I thought I was just being lazy, wasting my day and not working on my novel. But I've been doing work behind my own back.

Take that you mean old gremlin/blackbirds!

Time and the Flying Girl, or You Are Here

Time and the Flying Girl, or You Are Here
2/10/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic

The inspiration for this was the prompt for Illustration Friday, Time. I didn't want to do what I felt, what I did, because the idea of this large, looming clock scared the heck out of me. And then, when I felt that jolt, I knew I had to. This was the issue I had to tackle. My first idea was the deadline of how much time I have to accomplish what I want, but I think it ended up being more than that.

Am I here? Right here? In this minute? In this day? In this life?

This is the place where I am, yet I spend so much of my time feeling like I have to chase a deadline, run after the fleeing opportunities, capture every spare moment and wring out of it what I can get.

I have been very anxious lately. I think it's from this idea that I have that I have to start making money very soon, before my kids start school full time. Also from the idea that I have to be productive every minute of the day.

So much of my creativity is geared, now, towards somehow making money with it, although I don't seem to be able to gather all the loose ends and set up my business. I am always not doing enough.

But I think I have to accept my life as it is, and accept the time I have. I've got limitations here, with my full time stay at home mom gig, that limit what I can do with my business. I'd like to make it a full time job, but I am not ready for a full time job. I need to take it step by step and start slow.

I think I need to accept that I can't do it all at the same time. I cannot paint every night, blog every day, (twice,) revise my novel during naptime, cook healthy meals, keep my kids happy and strong, figure out the business world, get all of my shop things set up, and still say healthy myself. There's just no room in my day for all this. And the things that end up getting short shrift are the things that are hard (like business, like revising) and the things that feel "indulgent" (like time to relax and eat healthily).

I also need to not put so much pressure on myself in my productivity, expecting every piece to be perfect and meaningful.

I'm still not sure where I can fit revising into my day. It should be nap time, but the kids are sleeping less and I can't seem to carve out the time. I feel so exhausted when they go to bed at night that the brain function is tough. Maybe I am making my excuses, though, and I can break through.

That's another thing I was thinking about this. This pushing through. If I give in to my exhaustion, I won't write. But if I push through the initial exhaustion, I may very well end up writing some great stuff. I know, it's happened before.

However, if my expectations, every time I sit down to do the work, are that I should come up with the breakthrough piece that will get me a writing contract, then it seems too momentous to tackle.

So I'm thinking, lower my expectations of myself. Recognize my time limits and what I can do within that time. Perhaps let go of writing/painting/blogging every day. And the work I show up for, let go of the expectation of brilliance. Just be, in that moment, THERE. Paint for painting. Write for writing. Work for the work, not for the future burdens of making a living.

If the intention is there... somehow I think showing up for the work will get me down that path. Brick by brick the road is constructed?

What are the bricks you want to lay down? What are the small steps that you think will get you to your goals? What work are you going to show up for today?

A Banner Day (and routine difficulties)

Yesterday, I spent some time working on my etsy banner. Yes that's right. For my shop that is still not opened. Which is the part of my Portfolio Project that was supposed to be easy and quick and finished first. (hahahaha)

I sketched out the initial idea and then just dove in. I painted it and got it the way I wanted to and then edited it on picnik... which I think might be the solution to my tech-idiot problems. I like the way it came out. I like that it is so obviously made my hand, not technology. I like the sketchiness of the paint, which goes along with my speedy painting a day/every other day thing. Even the lettering is hand done. And I like it. Did I ever say that my job in college was making posters for events? Not a bad part time job. I wish I had figured out this style, because it would have been so versatile. Anyway, that was 18 years ago. Today is today and I am figuring everything out all over again. It seems on a daily basis, sometimes.

I realized that I had to actually set aside time to get this done, instead of just assuming it would happen in the upswelling of my days. I have been trying to build a routine into my day for writing and for painting and for blogging and for dinner and for bedtime and for getting up and dressed, but there was nothing for getting business done.

Have to say, there still isn't. My blogging time went to this, but perhaps what needs to be done is the time needs to be divided. Every other day going blogging and/or business. Or I don't know, maybe it just needs to be switched up a little. Or maybe I need to let go of this idea that everything needs to be done every single day and find a sort of rotating schedule that allows me to incorporate all the things I want to do.

I don't know yet. Still working on this.
But I wanted to show you my version of playing with words for creative everyday's February theme of "words." Oh wait. Last month was "play." I seemed to have combined the two. Oh well.
This was one of my first versions. Then I shifted the words around, trying all sorts of other compositions, trying to keep in ming the whole time that it was going to have to be very long and narrow to fit in the banner space.
So I just flipped and flipped the letters around, too many time to show here.

I just entertained myself with the different variations.






I came in close for a different purpose and feel. I like the little flowers/lollipops this way, too.





Wheeeeee!






Woo Hoo!








Ivy is still mightily entertained by the "popsiples" as she calls them. And spent some time drawing her own, or asking me to draw some "popsiples" for her to practice on.

Anyway, it was fun. And I could really use any words I wanted over the popsiples. I could do a new Warriorgirl banner-- the whole idea was inspired by the banner I have up now-- or make a poem or whatever I want. Almost like refrigerator poetry, but on a painting.

38 before 39 (Nov 19)

(In lieu of a painting, here I am in my writing corner, surrounded by some of my old favorite things that just arrived from storage in Brooklyn-- part of the reason why my art/writing routine is off kilter. I am surprised by how much better it feels to have my stuff-- and my library!-- with me again. I will share some of my old art with you once I've sorted through what I have. Some of it is still being held hostage at my sister's in NY.)

I have been uninspired by the painting I've been doing. I have an idea in my head, but it's not coming out right. I think it requires more time than I've had lately. I think it requires layers and details, and an extended session.... or more likely, it requires multiple sessions, where I give it air to breathe and allow different mindsets to filter in and affect the outcome. It requires space. And now I feel like I've gone and built it up, and now it has to be one whiz-bang painting. Darn it.

As an alternate to writing about creativity and my process, I think I will consider my upcoming year. Sure it seems like I've already done this, but not really. I've been thinking about the Portfolio Project, which is only 12 weeks long (ONLY 12 weeks long!) and I have my word for the year, which is BUILD. I even have a list of things to do before I'm forty, but I haven't thought about what I want to do for the year. So when I saw Hula Seventy and her post, I thought, now's the time!

1. Finish a final draft of Mythos. (working)
2. Get a driver's license.
3. Meet S's mom. (working)
4. Move into a new home.
5. Open my etsy store. (working)
6. Potty Train G (working)
7. Potty train AiAi
8. Make enough money to not have to get an extra job. (working)
9. Get a digital SLR camera.
10 Get a new computer.
11. Get new ballet flats.
12. Read Tarot professionally again.
13. Get a car.
14. Spend some time yard saleing and/or thrifting.
15. Write half of a first draft of a new novel.
16. Do nanowrimo again.
17. Do 100 paintings in 100 days.
18. Do the Portfolio Project. (working)
19. Start eating breakfast again. (working)
20. Start writing poetry again.
21. Send out some poetry to lit mags.
22. Figure out Flickr.
23. Get business cards.
24. Get an agent for my novel.
25. Publish some articles for pay.
26. Have fun decorating my house.
27. Have a real Birthday party for G
28. Have a functional, inspiring, comfortable studio/office. (working)
29. Start teaching workshops again.
30. Join a writing workshop.
31. Collect Flying Girl into some sort of book.
32. Put That Which Rises On Line. (just got from Brooklyn)
33. Put my Williamsburg Brooklyn Altered Book On Line. (just got from Brooklyn)
34. Write an outline for Creativity Book.
35. Cultivate friends irl.
36. Cultivate babysitters irl.
37. Visit P in Atlanta.
38. Get a grant.
39. Enjoy Life. (working)

Flying Girl and the Migration, or Flock

Flying Girl and the Migration, or Flock
1/26/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils on paper, 5x7

What is it I have to say? I do not even know. Perhaps it's because I am going through some sort of migration myself, and so can only see things from a distance. I am unable to see the details right at this moment. I am looking at movement and progress and dreams and goals and the past and the future. It's all very not grounded, it's just busy. Maybe that's why there's no horizon or land in this picture.

But I'm not even saying that's a bad thing at this moment. Part of the reason why is because I am getting near the 4 week mark of the portfolio project, and I am beginning to examine my progress so far. And in looking at that, I am beginning to look at what I want to focus on in the weeks ahead.

One third done with this puppy and well... I think my goals were meant for a woman without a 24 hour job as toddler wrangler.

Plus, I think I may have been pretending that I didn't still have to overcome my always struggles with the issues that I am now tackling. I may be closer than ever, but I am still chicken when it comes to putting my work out there as a professional.

That stuff doesn't go away. You may learn coping strategies, maybe even you learn to love the adventure, but I don't know how that deep insecurity goes away. Oh, maybe it does. Maybe it only feels like it doesn't when you're in the middle of it. Maybe that insecurity gets taken over by some other insecurity when you do finally manage to conquer it.

So in the end, it almost doesn't matter if I do indeed conquer my fears about being a fraud. (I just recently realized that's what a lot of it is about, that I'm faking, not a real artist or writer, just a poor kid pretending.) If I get over these fears, new ones will step up to take their place. So what matters is finding coping strategies for tackling your blockages.

An Incomplete List of Blockage Knockage-Downers

1. Lower the consequences. Make big things smaller. Break large goals into small pieces. A novel might be scary to you, but perhaps a chapter/short story at a time is manageable. Not a whole elaborate poem, but one that you can write on the subway from one stop to the next, or waiting in the car for that really long light to turn green. Maybe photos of your kids or your breakfast or your view outside your window are less frightening than the thought of being a "real" photographer who has models and stuff like that. For me, big paintings FREAK ME OUT. I never want to mess up or waste paint. I don't know where to start or where to set up even. Instead, years ago, I bought a tiny pad of 6x8" watercolor paper and a tiny travel watercolor set and would carry it with me. Nothing ever had to be special. All I needed was some time and something pretty to paint and I could sit down and whip something out. If it sucked, I could move on to the next. That period produced some of my very favorite and most well received paintings.

2. Switch media. Writing not going well for you? Paint a picture or play the guitar. For extra credit, paint a picture that reminds you of your writing. Collage a character study, make a map of your setting, sing a song that might be playing in the background. And if painting is stuck, try writing a poem about images you can't get away from. Keep your head in the writing game while using a different part of it to create. You know what also works? Turning on some music and dancing. That works too. Get that energy flowing and then sit back down to your project.

3. Set the timer for 15 minutes. Force yourself to work through the block. But only require that fifteen minutes (or alternately, require yourself to meet a quota-- 1000 words, or one painting a night.) Make a log or chart to mark your quota. Give yourself a sticker every time you meet a goal. Get so many stickers and get a treat. Hey, it's how I potty trained my son. Me, I just like to draw some graphs and rewards don't work for me, but it's about trying to find what works for you. If you keep moving, you push through your block. By refusing to give in to the "I can'ts" you actually end up doing what you were afraid you couldn't. No one says you have to love that stuff, the point is, you didn't give up the game, and I bet you will find some gems inside of that struggle.

4. Have you been working too hard and exhausting yourself? Are you blocked because you just need to stop and rest???? Then give yourself a break! Not working can be as important as working to art. Give yourself a night or two to just do things for yourself and not demand that you be productive. Beware though, that you don't take too much time off and lose your momentum. You want to build up good habits, and you don't want to lose your routine.

5. Oh, did I say you should get yourself a routine? You should. Whatever works for you, but something that gets your body in a habit of working. If you always sit down after the kids go to bed, turn on the tv and start painting, then if you don't paint... your night will feel empty and just WRONG. You may get tired of your routine, but it will keep you working even when you are struggling.

I'm going to stop here with my motivations, because there are five red birds in the painting, and I like to not overwhelm with too much info at once.

By the way, as I look at it, these suggestions aren't only good for creative pursuits. I can see how each of these techniques could help me in my struggle with house keeping. Or they could help with homework or studying. They could help with child rearing. I should have used some of these techniques when I was potty training the boy (although I did use the chart).

See, as life goes, so does art.

In Rain And Shine, or Union

In Rain And Shine, or Union
1/21/09
Golden Fluid Acrylics, Prismacolor watercolor pencils, Pitt Artist Pens on paper, 5x8"

I have to be quick because I promised my novel I would write before nap time squalls out.

This piece was inspired by all the Valentines day stuff I've seen around, lately. Why we need to give Valentines day a month preamble is beyond me. I'm not the V Day kind of girl, actually. Not the pink and red heart, angels, lace, long stem red roses or expectations kind of girl. Although I can really get down with some chocolate.

So not being the pink hearts kinda girl, I thought, what would my Valentine sentiment be like?

Here it is. Dark and kinda gloomy... but not really. Because it is honoring the truth that in order to open up to love, you have to open up to pain. It may hurt, but you can't close out the pain if you want the joy.

But, after my process began with this hearts and birds Valentine thing... I began thinking not about relationships with other people, but my relationship with myself.

I've decided that I am not longer going to beat myself up for not always being hearts and flowers and sunshine. I'm going to honor the rain and the silence too. I'm going to honor the imperfection... forget that urge to perfectionism, that is the urge to stasis, to death. I'm going to say, hell yeah, my stomach is wobbly. If I exercise or eat better it's not because there's anything wrong with my stomach, but because I want my body to feel good.

If my house is a mess, I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I'll clean it for order, maybe... but otherwise I'll remember the choices I am making, and why I take my nap time to create, instead of sweep cheerios.

If I am not going as quickly as I want in my novel, I am going to look at what is, at the care given to my children and myself, my art, my living, and say, this is my life as it is. Fighting against what it is isn't going to change my time limits or energy constraints. It just is. Not faster, not slower. Is.

In this time of New Years Resolutions, and Projects and Words to define my year, I'm going to be here now, and enjoy what I've got while I've got it. Not worry about failing to reach my goals or being afraid if I do or don't.

Doesn't mean I won't still be trying to get that novel into gear or open my shop or think about what I want in my future. I think if I make achieving my goals simply about the journey, and not about my worthiness as a human being, it will be a lot easier to achieve them. Plus, I'll enjoy the road.

It means I am going to honor my process, my speed, my conflicts, my fears, my goals, my loves, my joys, my pains, my moments, my skies, my girls flying and superheroes chasing after them.

It means, not only does a romantic couple need to stick together in the rain and the shine, but I need to stick together in the rain and shine. The union is within myself here.

I am, you see. Positive and negative both. I just am.

And so are you. You am, too. And I love you for your failures to be perfect.

Sickness and health, 'til death do you part from yourself... are you committed to you?

How would your life change if you loved yourself, even in your faults, flabby, lazy, sloppy, fearful faults?

Inspiration: My House

Inspiration: My House
1/17/09
Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils, Golden Fluid Acrylics, Pitt Artist Pens

This is a continuation of my exploration and honoring of my Inspiration, for my book group of 12 secrets.

This weekend was a tough one for me, as I felt I was coming down with something and I was fighting against creating at every opportunity. But there it is. I've decided that I am not going to kick myself when the inspiration and motivation isn't there. I'm going to try to keep working, but if I don't, if I need to sleep instead, or if I need to read the book that just came from Amazon, or if the kids wake up from nap early and my writing time disappears (all of which happened this weekend) then I am not going to beat myself up over it.

I'm a mom who is an artist. I'm discovering what a journey this is in its own right. It's not like it was when I was a single gal who searched out jobs where I had my days free, or my summers free, or ones that would feed my creativity. It's not like I can sit on my couch all weekend with a journal and a paint set, or go to cafes and write for two days straight. This is a new situation and it takes delicate balancing. Time with the kids, time for the house, time for the guy, time for making money, time for my physical health and well being, time to relax... and time for the creating, time for the exploring, time for the finalizing.

I am working on not struggling with my own pace, my necessarily slow pace at moving to the next step. Maybe that's why I am having problems with inspiration right now, because I am about to make some sort of leap. I hope so. I'd like it.

But, onto the painting. I have been trying to paint in whites and pales, which is how this painting began. Every time I try, I get it wrong and am unsatisfied. I manage to fix the pictures, more or less, but they don't end up being whites/pales. That's okay, I think. I realized I haven't spent much time on those shades. This kind of thing takes work and concentration and practice. You have to discover your techniques... at least I do.

So I covered over my pales and made my house. This is my house of creativity. This is my comfy couch, where I write and sketch and watch tv, and sit with my coffee and cake while I ruminate, where I enjoy company that supports my creativity. This is my studio, with computer and easel and supplies, with space to move and to think. This is my gallery of work, the body of my creative existence, collected to inspire and remember. This is my library of resources, my books, my stories, my loves, my histories, my journals. This is my rooftop view, that allows me access to sky and perspective. These are my fire escapes, my alternate way out, way up, my silent spot for rumination. My sky is alive, my ground is fertile, my roots go deep and deeper still, my tree... well, she can be many things.

My house is not real. Or it is real, but it is not physical. My physical life has very little of this. A corner with a borrowed computer. A bedroom with a typing table and an old chair. An old couch in a shared tv room, a bag of paints and carry along supplies. This is my reality.

And you know what????

It works.

Hey, I want the dream studios that I've been seeing around the web. But that's not my life right now. Right now, I do what I have to. I find my dream in the corners. I make my art on a tv table while watching the kids play. I write in snatched moments between action and action.

It doesn't matter what your creative space looks like. It doesn't matter if it's not perfect. What matters is what you do.

What spaces/times/activities find you creative, despite their imperfection? What corners of the day do you manage to snatch a few moments for your art? I'd love to know. I'm always looking for new ways to get it done.

Luna Moth Flying Girl, or Inspiration

Luna Moth Flying Girl, or Inspiration
reads: She flies by night, into the pale
1/17/09
Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils, Golden Fluid Acrylics, Pitt Artist Pens on Paper

How ironic that on the day I wanted to write a post about Honoring my Inspiration for this book group, I was stymied by not having any.

No inspiration. No energy. No paintings. No blogging. Nothing to say.

Eventually, I worked something out struggling for a couple of days, but finishing too late to get good photo session light.

Maybe my psyche is trying to say something about the way inspiration and I go together.

That traditional view of inspiration that comes out of the blue and takes artists over is as delicate and elusive as the beautiful Luna Moth. They fly only at night, only a couple of times a year.

And did you know that Luna Moths have no mouths? That's right. No mouths. They do not exist to live. They exist only to reproduce and then they die. Fine, they leave their offspring to continue on, but I can not wait for my Luna Moth of inspiration.

I think inspiration for me is a lot harder work that catching a moth.

I think it's about showing up and practicing my craft. I think it's about following through with ideas and constantly revising as I go. This is not to say that I don't sometimes get taken over by the muse and get to float around in the deep night of inspiration, creating and making art and often forgetting to eat. No, that happens, but I can't depend upon it.

For instance, my novel. I've been working on it for about three years now. It started with a small idea... an inspiration, if you will, that fired me up. But I will tell you now, that if I had jumped on that inspiration, it would have died out. Instead, I held on to it. I wrote it down and let it sit there. I waited for more inspiration to join it. And slowly, the world in my head began to grow. I asked questions, like 'why' and 'how' and 'where' and 'who?' I kept searching for keys that would unlock the doors of this story, of the creativity. And then I started writing, very slowly.

And then I stopped. I was busy with a baby, you see. But when I remembered that nanowrimo was coming, I dusted it off... I didn't write anymore... no I worked at the ideas. I paid attention to characters, I wrote an outline, I researched things, I continued the work of gathering inspiration that would build into an idea which was sustainable.

Then in the furious weeks of nanowrimo, I wrote it all out. One might look at nano and say that it couldn't produce a good novel, but that would just be looking at the one session of "inspired" writing, and not all the work and commitment that went into building it.

Two years later, I'm still working on that book. On revisions and the second in the series. Two years later and inspiration is lovely when it hits, and that flow of inspiration might be what keeps me going on those days when nothing is coming, but it's the work that wrote the book. It's the work that makes one an artist.

If I keep showing up at my desk or my sketchbook, the inspiration will come. Like a moth to a flame, perhaps? But we have to keep that flame burning, even when we feel like it's our blood we're using as fuel.

Tee hee.

Just a little bit dramatic there.

But this is about honoring my inspiration, and I think in order to do that, I have to honor my process... truly what I think this blog is about... and I have to honor the hard work that goes into it. And I have to honor when there is no inspiration and my head is empty or too heavy or too tired to continue on.

I still don't have the key. I don't know how to make myself inspired all the time and constantly creative and productive without end. I think that's not possible. I think we have to honor ourselves for when we DON'T create. I think we have to not give up, even when it feels like there is no other way to go on.

Keep going.

That's honoring my inspiration, my faith in myself. Keep going. Don't give up. Even if I don't write a poem for five years, that poet is still there. Honor the silence, too.

The Long Journey

Flying Girl Receives Assistance on the Long Journey, or Elephant Spirit
1/14/09
White Gel Pen, Golden Fluid Acrylic, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils.

This painting is about all the helpful spirits we encounter on our journey to ourselves. There really is no reason to do it alone. Help comes from everywhere if you are looking for it and allowing yourself to receive it.

It might come from the inside, your own ancient wisdom, that you so frequently ignore. It might come from words that you read, here or there, and that give you that frisson of understanding, connection. It might come from those real live people around you, the ones who give you a hug when you need it, or a home, or take the kids so you can do your work. It might be a question placed before you, which, when you search for the answer, gives you the key to your path. It might be someone's painting, or challenge, or prompt, that allows the soul to come out and see the light, see that the path is still there, and you are moving forward, and in the right direction.

I don't really want to explain the meaning behind this painting anymore than that, because, well, there's so much in it, I don't really know where to start, and I'd like you to take your own meaning from it.(detail) Flying Girl Receives Assistance on the Long Journey, or Elephant Spirit

But I will explain how I did it. Because I had fun.

It started with a blue watercolor pencil, as I sketched in the elephant. I didn't have a photo or a model, and relied upon my memory. I kind of think I did a good job. I like my elephant, even if the details aren't there. She's more the idea of an elephant anyway. I sketched her, and FG, and added swirls to her. I've been enjoying letting my sketch show through, so my choice of paint depended on how it would interact with the blue. I did the blue and cream the day before and was getting tired of that, so I picked purple, since it was transparent and I hadn't used it in a while. And then I thought I'd try some pale yellow to contrast the purple, and then thought, hey, why not try that old Quinadcridone gold in my bag that is always too bright for my needs. So I did, and while I enjoyed leaving the painterly brush marks, the contrast was too jarring, so, you know what I did? Tried to fix it with white, but that just, yuck, so... I glazed over all of it with the quinadcridone gold, purple, yellow, gold, white. And it all just mellowed out into a nice orange. I really like this orange. The heat of it, the depth of it. The brown/yellow that happened when it went over the purple. Surprising and satisfying. Ah, adventure.

Then I put it away and this morning, looked at it.

I still liked it, liked the overall orangeness. Like that I could still see the spirals of the blue sketch underneath and the layers of color and the brushmarks, but I could tell that it needed definition. How to get it?

As I sorted through the options in my mind, I knew I didn't want to cover the elephant or take away from the feel of her. I knew I wanted her to stand out, too. I thought about adding words, and then I decided the white gel pen was the best way to go. I never got around to adding words, as the patterns... the swirls echoing the elephant spirals, and the dots that remind me of aboriginal paintings, which I've always loved, they all took over. Now I love it.

The detail above is my favorite part. I like the water and the way it interacts with the spiral pattern and the dot pattern of the sand, and the shape the elephant's upturned (for luck) trunk makes.

This painting was created out of gathered inspiration, a growing love for elephants, experimentation and play.

I want to do more like that.

Just Breathe

Flying Girl Comes to Meet Her Heart, or Just Breathe
1/13/09
Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils, Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, 5x8

Here's what I've been thinking today.

Balance is not a static thing.

You don't find some set of circumstances where everything works and then just stay there, finally, everything going like clock work. That's a fantasy.

No. Balance is a fluid dynamic thing, and not about finding that one perfect answer and staying there. Balance is about always moving. It's about letting the setbacks and overwhelm and successes and understandings all kind of ride together so that you keep moving.

It's like running. The act of running is basically throwing yourself off balance so that if you don't catch yourself, you fall. By catching yourself, again and again, you move forward, speedily. I can't imagine how we could ever run without upsetting the perfect stasis we had in stillness.

Where does this come from?

Well, I realized that I have lost my ability to just sit down after the kids go to bed and paint. Now, I sit down and watch tv, surf the web, check email, flip through a magazine, and maybe sketch a little.

Last night, I watched American Idol, and then said, WTF? Why am I not painting while I sit here watching the boobiest of the tube? So I set the creaky wheels into motion, got my paint set, my journal, my anxieties and set up ready to go.

See, the thing is, I want to get my novel done, and I want to do so much else, so I thought I would ease up on my goals for painting. But what that has led me to, is a lack of commitment. I'm still painting, but, I will let myself go on a message board for three hours instead of doing my work (and my joy, let us not forget that this is a passion, not just an obligation).

Listening to Jen Lee's portfolio project podcast, and having her talk about Jen Lemen painting a hundred paintings, well... I thought, I want to do that! I can do that. I've done that. Why am I not doing that?

I feel like I let myself off the hook for my personal commitments, and got lazy.

What does all this have to do with balance?

The thing is, I am seeking balance. I want to live and be an artist. I want to be joyous and be productive. I want to make money and paint for the wholeness of my soul.

So afraid was I that I would be overwhelmed, that I low balled myself. I dropped down to the bar I had set for myself. So. Back to our inquiry about Living into Art. If I set the bar too high and don't give myself a break, I burn out. If I set the bar too low, I get lazy and don't achieve and lose focus and my practice falters.

How can we set a happy medium?

How about 5-7 new paintings a week. Finished. Or art pieces... so I can explore a new medium now and again. That means I paint every night, but can allow one or two not to be finished, or to take a couple of days. That would equal 50-70 paintings from this point, since it is the end of week two. You know. I have done some art almost every day, but because I knew I didn't have to finish, I was just phoning it in. I wasn't putting my heart into it.

Ah. There we are. Back to the Flying Girl. I was wondering how this post would connect.

How do you reach your heart? How do you meet it, when you know where it is, and all you have to do is make the journey? You just breathe. You point yourself in the direction you know you need to go, you set off, and then you JUST BREATHE.

You don't panic over having too much on your plate, or not enough. You don't kick yourself for not flying as fast as you think you should. You don't doubt that you are going in the right direction. You don't think you are a failure because the wind blows you off course, you just readjust your flight plan and keep going.

I see her, that heart, right over there... on the horizon... off I go.

Remember to breathe.

How are you doing on your goals? Is there some readjusting that you need to do to your flight plan? Is there some anxiety you need to let go of?

Inquiry: Living into Life

I took yesterday off. Except for a few details drawn in this piece. that I've been working on for a couple of days. This collage in my journal reminding me to live my life, to use my art to enrich my life. Life comes first. Riches come next. That means I have to step back from the ambition sometimes and just BE there in the day, in the moment, in the body.

Yikes.

Yes I did. I didn't feel guilty about not writing (well, maybe a little, until I decided a Sunday without work wasn't a bad thing). I struggle with the concept of taking a day off as I work on developing my daily writing habit. That's the struggle right there. If I want a daily writing habit, then how can I take a day off?

But, more than anything, I want to have a sustainable writing habit. What good is an everyday habit that exhausts me so I give up writing in a month? There has to be room for me to let go, if I am going to keep it up, I think.

Maybe if my day job was one where I had a couple of days off it would be a different story. But I barely get any non sleeping hours off of my day job. And my boss has a tendency to wake up with poopy diapers and/or crawl into bed in the middle of the night, so there's no guarantee I get time off during sleep, either.

On an interesting note, I wrote 3500 words today. Maybe if I log details like this, I will find out if my productivity increases regularly after taking a rest.

Anyway, it's interesting that during the Portfolio Project, which seems like it should be about PRODUCT, I am renewing my interest in process and in living. Living, not doing. Being.

Hey. I just had a thought.

When I teach, the portfolio is not simply a body of work. It is a record of the work the students have done, the things that they have learned, the struggles that they have overcome. Perhaps this version of a portfolio has influenced me more than a professional portfolio of work to sell or image to market.

I think my portfolio for me, right now, is not about that creating of a professional portfolio, but a document of my INQUIRY into how to become a working artist. How to live an artist's life.

You know what else I just did? I opened up my planning and idea notebook and made a list of questions I had about the business of art. Questions like what queries should look like, if I needed a business license to sell art, what to do about taxes. Maybe, just like I had my students do, I should do an idea web taking stock about what I already know about the business off art. I bet it's more than I thought I knew. That would give me a base to start on to BUILD the life I want to live, even in the areas where I am the most insecure.

And it is about building.

There is no way to have that castle in the sky dream without having the structure underneath it to hold it up.
City in the trees, or How We Rise
1/11/09
Pitt Artist Pens, White Gel Pen, Golden Fluid Acrylic

Coincidence that I drew this little city in the trees? No. I don't think so. Do you see all the building verbs in the trunk? I imagine the roots of the tree to have words about my past and education and experiences and all the things that have gotten me to the point where I can start building my little tree house of life.

I like to think that building a life takes all the elements that it might take to grow a tree, the fire of passion and the sun, the water of soul and fluidity, the earth to ground us, and the air that allows us to breathe, to think, to imagine.

Treehouses, Unfinished

Treehouses, unfinished.

My tree houses, play houses, dream houses, art shacks, writing rooms, creativity cottages. Yes. Unfinished. So many little projects with so little free time. But plenty of dreams.

I'm looking forward to finishing it tonight. Not that I have much brain power, right now. I've been sitting in front of my computer for an hour trying to figure out how to write this post. Uhm, make that two hours.

But it all just seems so momentous again. So many things to do, so many projects to take on. So much work so much work. So hard to pull my brain away from taking care of kids and the tv playing in the background and finding something to eat and worries about how the money situation will ever make sense again.

I'm getting lost in the list. The list of things to do and desires and musts.

So.

Take it all back to the core.

Art to center myself. To understand. To breathe and to be.

Why do I have to keep reminding myself of these things? Why do I get overwhelmed with the task of making it something REAL. (which in my psyche means, paid for. Silly psyche.)

Why do I ask why and struggle against the process of beginning, or overwhelm? Why do I forget that it's all the way it's supposed to be.

Gosh darn it,
because that's the way it's supposed to be.

Okay. Here's where I am:
After 38-- fine, 33 years (since kindergarten) of being an artist, and 23 years of trying to be a novelist, and 20 years of being a poet, and 10 years of being a teacher, and 3 years of PPD where I lost it all, and one year more of getting it back... I'm ready to take it global.

No. I'm not ready to take it global, but I'm ready to GET ready to take it to the rest of the world and make it a career, not just a calling.

And it means I get frustrated and confused at the immensity of it all. And I get scared about not being good enough to be a professional, and the echoes of my poetry advisor saying I couldn't do it get louder and the panic sets in. And that's all normal, a normal part of the process. And it means I have to take it back to the scaffolding of the thing to remember why I've been doing it all in the first place.

It's about me, and understanding myself, and it's about the world, and helping others to understand themselves. It's about saying yes instead of no.

I just joined another group. Yes, another. Now on top of The Portfolio Project, and on top of Creative Everyday, I am doing a book blog based on the book The Twelve Secrets of Highly Creative People. Not to mention the third draft of my novel (this is the one I'm going to show people) and trying to get an etsy shop up. It's another 12 week project and I'm getting a little overwhelmed, but I know my motivation here. My motivation is to....

What's my motivation again? Am I trying to whip my creativity into shape? Harness her up to my goat cart? Prod her down the road of commerce? Yipes.

Maybe. And that might be why I joined this new group. To focus on my creativity for myself, not for making a living so I don't have to go back to teaching when the kids start school. To make paintings based on my insides, not some market. To open up the skin and get deep.

Oh yeah, and to have some fun, to do some playing, to center and breathe, to get messy with paints. And write about those people who have been living in my head for three years. And to take care of myself. And to have fun with the kids. And to live. Oh yeah.

Live.

Build Joy, or Play

Build Joy, or Play
1/06/09
Prismacolor Watercolor pencils, Golden Fluid Acrylics, Pitt Artist Pens, White Gel Pen

I had some technical difficulties yesterday, both computer and brainwiring.

Here are my lessons. First, if you can't upload photos, turn the computer off and on again and check if it's okay then (because this morning it worked fine). The same lesson works for digital cameras, celphones, dvd players and all those other indispensable electronic gadgets that didn't exist 20 years ago.

Second lesson: Don't stay up to watch Night of the Living Dead with your uncle so that you are then falling into bed with zombies running through your head, and decide to open up the last book of Harry Potter to chase the zombies away, but instead get caught up in the climax at Hogwarts, not closing the book until 3am. Because on that night, sure as tooting, the babygirl will wake up at 6:30 am and your day will be shot.

On to the story.

The story, my friends, is about play. That is the optional theme for the month over at Creative Everyday.

The last few days, in my "exploration" phase of my Portfolio Project I have been trying to reconfigure my head around what I REALLY wanted out of the project. All the work I had been doing before was more like what I thought I needed to get where I wanted to go... but what good is that if you are blocking all joy from entering???

The first thing I did was get all gloomy, because that's what I do.

The second thing I did was go on the internet and look around at what other people were doing. There was one about by Shayla about hiding in a tree. There was a video about doing an art journal a month at Suzi Blu's and there it was, it all came to me.

I didn't want to just do disconnected pieces of art to sell. I wanted to go back to who I used to be, the girl who carried a journal everywhere and filled it up at the drop of a hat, with poetry and art pieces, collages, inspiration, pages and pages of thoughts.

Granted, my life has changed, and I'm lucky if I have 15 minutes of uninterrupted time to finish a thought, and web logging has replaced much of my handwritten rumination, and yes, I want finished works that I can sell, BUT I still want to do the work that filled me up all those many years ago.

A lot of that was my play. My exploration. My sitting on swings and getting dizzy with the world going by. My leaning on a tree and looking up at the branches, watching them sway, reveling in the dappled light and the smell of growth and decay. My staring out the cafe window at the people passing. My getting messy with paints and glue. My digging moments out of my dreams and my past and bringing them to life again. My collecting images that capture me. My talking to friends about what it all means.

Oh, exploring and wondering and getting dirty and skinning knees, wandering and getting lost and found at the same time, reading and movie watching, dancing and listening to music, learning new things and getting obsessed with new loves.

I decided this week that I don't want my project or my life to be all about work. I've decided that I want my project to be about my life, and out of that, the work will flow.

So to remind me, I drew this treehouse, and the largest word is BUILD, and it turns into JOY and then into PLAY. It's not about Building a business (although it is) it's about building a life that is worth living. Work is a part of that, but if I focus everything on product product product commerce commerce commerce, I'm afraid that I might just freeze up and start shrinking.

And do you know the work it was to make this treehouse? It took me most of the week, including the times I had to set it aside and stare at it in dissatisfaction. It started out just a drawing with watercolor pencils, which I could manage while the kids watched Sesame Street. And I didn't like it. Then I painted it all with a layer of cream acrylic. And it was still too pink. And I stared and stared and stared and decided it needed definition, so I finally went in with a pen to pin down the thoughts and the words and the forms. There it started to take shape. I drew in the house. I added details. I added more thoughts in the leaves with white pen. Slowly it became something although it still didn't feel right.

Every time I sat down I added. I considered. I altered. I built this drawing much the way one might build a real play house. Starting with a foundation, a structure, adding the walls, adding the trims.

And then there came a time where it was close enough to being done that I could look at it and see where my discomfort had been the entire time. It was just too pink, too pastel. And I took out my medium dark pens, tan, green, beige, and gave it the definition I wanted. And then it was there. The way I wanted it. Take to places I hadn't quite intended, but being closer to what I felt than the original vision.

The truth is that while I am generally an optimist, I am not a pastel pollyanna. I need some weight to my bright, some shadows to the pink and green. Maybe the entire time, I wanted something a shade darker in my Play and my Joy. A little darkness to define the dawn, a little cold Winter to show us the soft Spring.

Flying Girl Whispers or I Will Give You A Home

Flying Girl Whispers or I Will Give You A Home
1/05/09
Golden Acrylics, Pitt Artist Pens, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

Yesterday I was confronted by the conflict between my ambitions and my reality. This painting took three days. Or was it four? I started it days ago, and left it sitting, not wanting to show it to anyone because it was just WRONG. Blech. The colors were jarring and it just was somewhat awkward. But I let it sit, rather than posting it wrong. I let it sit. I thought about what I was really wanting to do with my project, with my life, with my work. Then last night, after bad television and more hours of lack of ambition, (oh and a glass of port) I took my paint to the WRONG picture. I am actually really liking the layers of paint, lately. I'm enjoying glazing on top of what is already there and even more so, scumbling... which is glazing with opaque or semi opaque layers of a lighter color. So I tried it out with what was already there, and the words came to my head (probably due to my "gatherer" mindset this afternoon, as I scooted about the internet looking for inspiration and focus) and voila, everything came together in meaning.

The painting only succeeded when I gave up my expectations for it, for myself, for my project, for my productivity. I had to stop trying to PRODUCE, I had to stop trying to be PROFESSIONAL and come up with PERFECT (oh, lord, there it is, that's why I've been having so much trouble. My old nemesis, perfectionism) art so that I could sell it and make money.

The reality is life is what it is and my process is what it is and my time and energy are limited and I can't just WILL myself to so something that does not fit into the life I have. I had forgotten about the initial babysteps, or perhaps I thought I was "over" needing to take babysteps, because I had already come so far.

But it doesn't matter where you've already been, when you start something, you're always starting from point A. I thought I was at point C.

HA HA HA HA.

Luckily, I am watching many people as they struggle with their Portfolio Projects or their personal challenges or their New Year's resolutions or whatever it is we all have decided to tackle in this post holiday, pre the rest of the year period. It's not lucky that everyone is struggling, it's lucky that we are sharing our processes and through that sharing, learning that this is normal. Part of the process. Necessary. Expected.

Yay, we're normal.

So, let's back up a step. Let's not even think about what we really want to produce with everything we've taken on. Let's think about where we ARE. Where we have come from, and what we want to get out of this work, what we want to learn, how we want to grow.

Where have you come from? What is your experience with your work?

I grew up the child of artists and was supported in my art and writing from very young, both at home and in school. But I have always had it in my head that making money off of art or writing was nearly impossible and you had to be a genius to succeed and even then, The Man could always stop you. A couple of bad critiques and a couple of rejection letters later, and I shied even more away from publishing or selling work. From 92-97 I was poet, painter and novelist who waited tables and infrequently showed, performed or sent work out. From 97-03 I taught HS and wrote and painted when I wasn't working (yay summer). After that I bartended for a year and worked on my art and writing career again, then came the babies, and all art disappeared. Kaput for 3 years. This last year has been spent recovering that art and working my way up to where I could start over from where I was before getting pregnant.

What do you want to gain from your work? (Not what you want to produce, but what you want to gain out of taking this work on.)

I want to get to the point of my life where I have an infrastructure set up for being a professional. I want to know how to send work out and who to send it to and how to manage all the technical details. I don't want to be afraid of art and commerce. I want to have a regular writing and art practice. I want to share my fiction with people instead of hiding it away. I want to be clear and explicit about my process as I continue to work on this project. I want to help other people be creative as I build my own work. I want to roll with the punches and not lose momentum because of bad critiques or rejections or disappointments. I want to understand my own process and allow my own dips and lulls while maintaining my creative practice. I want to have faith that the work will come.


I wanted to do this in a linear manner, with my goals and my lists, but it turns out, it isn't linear. And it's not about the product. It's more about the creative process, which is more organic, and it's turning into, for me, more of an Inquiry than a business proposition. Let me tell you, I was not expecting that. So as I work this process, I'm going to go slow and take it one step at a time, whether the steps take me forward or backward a little.

What about you? Where are you coming from with your work? Where are you wanting to go? How's the process been for you so far?

Portfolio Project, Week One: Explore

Painting in Process/Blank
1/03/09

Let me tell you. This week has not been as productive as I was planning.

Last week, my Pre-Portfolio Project was all about thinking and planning and coming up with expectations and goals and plots and making it all bigger and more ambitious and WOO HOO let's just reach for our dreams and what a great year it will be!

And then came January First, the prospective start day... and I didn't start. I made a log, though, so I could keep track of what I didn't do... and what I did.

And day two and I slowly started writing things down and trying out ideas and sketching a little. I even painted a picture that I had no inspiration for but I just tried it out and came up with something that I didn't even like.

And day three and I started to write, fewer pages than I had planned. And I messed with the blog. And I painted a picture... with inspiration... but in fits and starts, because it flickered on and off, that inspiration, like a flashlight with dying batteries. And it isn't done, that picture. This picture, with the flying house inspired by a video posted over on Secret Notebooks.

But in these three days where I have not reached my goals, I have been doing a lot of thinking about what this all is, this project and this process.

It is
1. Not going to go from 0-60 in 60 seconds. No it's not. I already knew that was not how productivity develops, but I guess I thought I had been so busy before, I could just translate that business into a new project, but I can't. You still need to take baby steps in the beginning until you are warmed up for the great strides.

2. Not going to turn out to be what you expected. Will I finish my novel in a month? Probably not. Probably not even the 2 months I had scheduled. If I manage it in the whole three month period, it will be a blessing. Am I going to paint my initial 60 paintings (like I originally proposed) or even 24 finals, like I had settled on after looking at the whole list of expectations? Some of those other goals might get knocked right out of the project. Don't know. But the project might even end up being MORE than I expected. In fact, I am beginning to think that the project might help me outline my non-fiction creativity book that I have been tossing around for the last, oh 15 years.

3. Tough. And it's not the project itself that is the hardest work. The hardest work is the work that goes on within yourself. Questions to ask that inform it all: Who am I? What do I really want? What am I afraid of? What are the most important things in life? What am I willing to give up? What drives me? What do I have to share with the world? How can I believe in myself and my work?

So last night and this morning I made the realization that this week (maybe longer, because this project will probably change over the course of 12 weeks) is about exploring.

In it, I am exploring the ideas that I set forth before hand. Exploring my ability to reach my goals. Exploring the creative projects and finding what shape they will have.

In that exploration, I am allowed to get lost. I am allowed to blunder around, trip over my own two feet, get turned around and go backwards, take a new path, climb a tree for a better view, mark a rock with a piece of chalk to show where I've been, take a nap and start out again.

In exploring the boundaries of my project, I am allowed to not be inspired. To produce crappy paintings, or ones that seem more unfinished, like last night's piece. What started out inspired and ended up being a cypher for what is to come. I am allowed to write 3 times as many words as I actually keep. I am allowed to snap a hundred thousand digital photos and erase them all. I am allowed to cut my hair and consider that part of the process. I am allowed to scrap half my project and stick in and even more ambitious piece. I am allowed to start keeping track of the things I do to take care of myself, not just my project.

I am discovering this work. I am discovering my self. I am discovering the year. I am discovering the road as I go... in fact, not only am I discovering it, I am making it as I go.

Caminante, no hay camino. Se hace camino al andar.
(Traveler, there is no road. You make the road as you go.)
-Antonio Machado

What are you discovering this week about your project, your goals, your self? Take a chance and go off the beaten path of your intentions and discover something new. How is your path changing as you walk along it?

My AiAi

Listen, I'm not picky. I take my wisdom any place I can get it, even if it's from the under two set.

Ivy has this new thing. A thing that could easily drive me batty. She has taken to coming up to me a million times a day and asking me, "Mama, whatchu doin'?" All day long, when I'm putting a spoon in my mouth or getting dinner ready or fixing a toy or writing. "Mama, whatchu doin'?"

After a couple days of this new trick of hers, trying to answer each question as it came, I decided I'd try to turn it back around on her.

"I'm eating/reading/making dinner, Ivy. What are YOU doing?"

And do you know what her answer was?

"My AiAi." Which in Ivy speak means, "Me Ivy." Every time I ask, same answer. "My AiAi."

I think she is saying she is just being Ivy.

What is Mama doing? A long list of activities to fill her day or feed everyone or get her somewhere. What is Ivy doing? Just being.

And that's good enough. I don't have to chase one more page of writing to be successful, or cook better meals or even enjoy each day to it's fullest. I don't have to be supporting my family with my art in twelve weeks or add one more thing to my list of tasks completed. I don't have to worry about what tomorrow brings or what I have to make right. I don't have write the greatest novel in the world. I don't even have to hit all my marks in my Portfolio Project. I just have to be me.

I found that intersected nicely with a podcast from Jen Lee and Jen Lemen on the Portfolio project, where they talk about beginners mind and and giving yourself some space for care and nurturing, and about it being better even if we don't make every project step to be so SIGNIFICANT. Remember it's a game, just as life is.

Here's a good quote from the podcast (although I am not sure which of them said it, since I don't recognize their voices yet and they both had colds.)

"It's really okay just to be. Just breathe. Do your work everyday for three months."
-Jen L. or Jen L.

And that's how it all gets done. It is a tricky bit of balancing, this committing to a thing while still allowing yourself to not be hung up on its doing. I have all intentions of completing it... but along with those intentions I am practicing the release of my expectations.

Oh yes, it's that trickiest of all Buddhist concepts. Non-attachment.

I'll keep you updated on how it goes.