I’m very unsettled right now. Can’t make up my mind what i want to do, where to start, wondering about burgeoning piles of “supplies” that excited me in the making, but not in the using of.
Had a deep deep look at old work, going back to the original photo files and remembering the intent, the feeling–
Ah yes, the feeling. That passion, excitement, joy, playfulness combined with serious effort has been missing. I’ve stuck myself in a rut, have been following along on my own status quo, staying inside a box (of my own devising admittedly) for the most part. I haven’t felt compelled or obsessed really since the making of A Birth of Silence, even the Leighton work kind of leaving me cold–competent, and interesting work, but not for my soul really.
I haven’t truly been spending much time in the stoodio. Oh, the stitch corner on the couch gets used, but too often lately, the work each evening has been tossed on a pile, an ever enlargening pile, one that frustrates and maddens me because the work isn’t coming out of my heart, just out from my fingers, fingers that need to Do, but aren’t really getting anything Done……..I’ve even subconsciously blocked the path TO the studio–there are boxes, bags, tool chests and suitcases literally in the way, necessitating a small delicate two step to get through–now what does THAT say about the import of being in there?????
So i’m going to go back to screwing around with whatever, with everything, flitting here, flapping there, nothing serious, nothing profound. Perhaps some “self directed workshops” again will open the sluices, summer tasking a million things because they *all* need doing: distraction and deflection.
Like my garden, i don’t know whether to fold up
or fold down
or just hang in there….
I may not make the end of summer residency exhibit because of this, but that may be a cost i have to absorb. Then again, maybe lightning will strike and new vision will appear.
I’m tired myself of the analyzing and overthinking. Screw it and the horse it rode in on.