creative crash out

on having faith in your work

slow, finally, the brain and the body. time made up everyday only to suit the present needs and desires. i come back to myself and find a pool of curiosity, a pool of voice, a pool of not caring. i shudder once again at my mistake of leading with a mind that doesn’t consult a body, hoping this time i learn the lesson.

the last month and a half, i’ve been stewing in a creative turmoil; where and how and what will bring me safety. i lost complete faith in myself and never once take a moment to remember, the safety is in the practice. it is not in the organising and planning, it is not in the packaging for the presentation. it is in the devotion to the work, and nothing else.

i cried a lot into my naked mattress and into my phone and at the laundromat whilst pulling a month’s worth of laundry from the jumbo dryer. i let my head fill up until it overflowed, cleansing my palette with tears of hormonal shift and creative frustration. then i wrote some and packed a bag and flew to the south where i’ve done not too much but read and write and spend present time. now I am back where I started.

‘sometimes you have to try a million options to bring you back where you started,’ M, a new artist friend, tells me over a voice note. so here i am, back where i said i wouldn’t be, because after exhausting every other option, what feels right over everything else is to maintain consistency in my mission; which has, and always will be, to sculpt what i glean from my lived experience into something to ignite at least another beating heart.

my understanding of an artist from the beginning has never been to just be a painter or musician or writer. nor has my understanding of an artist ever been someone who crafts themself into something palatable for others to graze on. my understanding of an artist has always been someone who lives fervently and independently of one way of being or one line of thought. and yet, the part of myself that still feels abandonment in the unknown seeks safety in the certainty of these declaratives. i often forget that i am an artist and i have always been one, despite the countless affirmations life gives me when i actually believe in what i do.

i have a mission now; to do the work and to live. to sit and listen. to let the form follow. most importantly, to allow myself to depart from scarcity as a center to make decisions from and move toward a belief in the abundance and vitality that inspires my work. Henry Miller said work according to the program and not according to the mood. as my Saturn return peaks in my Aries first house (also the house of my Moon), i believe this is something i am challenged with. i want to continue to have faith in what i do regardless of how i feel, rather than be swayed by the question if it’s ever enough..

i’m making a small, yet sturdy amount of promises to myself. i will not share them with you. what comes of them will breathe through my art as its meant to.

trust in the self is quiet and simple. intuition is not dramatic or chaotic, it is not dire. it’s the gentle guiding hand that leads your gaze to catching the butterfly in a rare moment of respite right nearby.