August 17, 2014

I bought a canvas. 72 inches square. I had no idea what I was going to do with it. I only knew I had an urge to create. It was an inkling. I have been working very hard to LISTEN to these inklings and allow them to guide me. The canvas sat, folded up in a corner for a couple of weeks. Every time I saw it I had the desire to get my hands on it and DO something. What exactly I would do, I had absolutely no clue. And I didn't want to have a clue. I wanted to see what would happen.

Finally, just a couple days ago, I laid it out on the porch, filled various containers with water and made palettes out of dinner plates. My brushes are all stained shades of red and rose from last years pink elephant water colors. I wondered- should I clean them? No. Use what you have. The tubes of paint strewn about, I chose to start with a yellow ochre. I have a favorite brush, the oval mop. Slopping and swirling the pigment into the canvas, I wanted to make it take up more space. I looked everywhere for the flat wide brush I purchased just for this. It was nowhere to be found. I did however find the cheap plastic bristled brush that I got to clean the sand out of the car, and so that is what I used. Sweeping the paint from one end of the canvas to the other, adding, blending, lunging to cover space, reaching, stretching, sweating, I was completely immersed in the process of PLAYING and time flew. I would step back to observe my 'work' and decided that I needed more or less of of something somewhere. What were these determinations based upon? Some kind of instinct. How would I know if it was done? Some kind of instinct.  I noticed at some point in my sweeping, that it was a perfect physical metaphor for where I am in my life right now. Sweeping away things and thoughts that do not serve me, to make room for those that do. I noticed that there was a meditative quiet to my thoughts. I was free from the mental chatter and anxiety that keeps from sleeping nights. I was experiencing joy as I practiced- PRACTICED- no self judgement.

Humans need to play. I'm not sure at what point we stop playing, but this experience was a tremendous reminder that 'play' time- is very valuable time spent. 

Listen to your inklings, your instincts and urges to create. We are all creative. To think we are not is a self-judgement, a fear of failure, which serves neither you nor your potential positive impact on other people. As my amazing life-partner, Kate says in her 'work' with children; "PLAY" to learn.