I've always admired those artful folk who are dedicated to one mystery and pursue it endlessly. Painters, writers, photographers, I know many people who stand firmly on one beam and don't waver. It seems so clean and organized, sensible and pure. Then I try to reflect upon how my life would be if I had only one artistic focus. I see an image of a balloon being squeezed in the middle and bulging out all over before it pops. I am "all over the place", but other than the inescapeably huge mess, I couldn't change it for anything.
I can't help it. It's only partially my fault anyway. I do believe there is this thing, essence, spirit, minor deity, muse...help me out here....and it blows in and out and around in a ticklish, tantalizing and frustrating way, sometimes it cannot be grasped, and others....I can almost hear it speaking. My parrot (Guido) spends a lot of time on my shoulders, sometimes nuzzling and lovey, but more often, physically re-shaping my earlobes. It's sort of like that. Happy, sweet and nice, surprising, annoying and excruciating. I would never intentionally inflict these states upon myself so therefore I believe it must come from without. Most especially that latter part of it all.
This has been churning around in my mind for weeks now, because you see...I have suffered a number of ummmm....projects with uncertain results. Failures. Wasted materials. Wasted time. Loss of money but much worse, self respect. For many years I have been creating and selling my work, and there have been bloopers along the way, but lately, the percentages would make a statistician gasp. BUT! I do know why now, and am embracing this with all my energy.
I have, ..ahem, stepped outside my box. Not too far, but I have, oh indeed I have. Yes. Go ahead and take a moment to chuckle here....I've spent the winter darks exploring new techniques, learning, trashing, learning, destroying, learning, growing. It can be very lonely. And so it's springtime now, and I will scatter these cobwebs to the winds, listen with a sage ear and open heart. Normally I feel huge pressure in the spring, to industrialize and make up for the winter months. Not now, not ever again. These long cold months have been some of the most rewarding (retrospectively) that I have ever lived. Onward, at the newly defined pace of my recently discovered partnership with whatever is on my shoulder at the moment...Guido and/or the whispering, nudging muse.
Thank you all for bearing with my ramblings, your love, support and such kind words. Till next time....