Something from Nothing

I’m just going to write today. I need a way out of the downward swirl. I want to feel good about something and stay away from all the bad out there. If I were my eight year old self again, I’d be sitting in the corner of my closet with a book. 

Reading saved me as a kid. It was an approved way to spend my time on a hot summer day. Sitting in the shade, on the neighbors porch, reading Nancy Drew. It still helps me, reading a ‘cozy’ mystery. You know the genre’, where the female character solves the mystery, maybe with the help of a few friends, the criminal gets caught and they all go out to celebrate. 

Oh, how I wish the world really worked that way all the time. Don’t you?

Now instead of escaping into my closet or the next door neighbors patio, I walk. I take my grandson to the park to play.  I lean on the trees in the woods nearby. I bake with my husband. I make things out of clay. And I crochet with no pattern. 

Right now, I’m in the ‘finishing’ phase in the studio. This is the part that makes my nerves all jangled. It’s not just that it’s the end of the making, which I love, but it’s the beginning of the booming inner critic’s voice. You know what I mean?

“Oh this will never sell.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Who is going to want a sunflower with a face?”

“It’s not a perfect flower, you know.”

“This is does not look even close to a real bird.”

Yeah. My inner critic is a nasty bitch. I really should fire her. 

Believe me, I’ve tried. 

But she just keeps coming back to work. 

And she gets even louder when I’m filling out forms to enter a show.  

That’s my next step. One I dread, too. Filling out the application form. Downloading the images. Hoping that my iPad will cooperate with the venue’s computer. Then, of course, is the wait. Acceptance or Rejection? It always feels like I’m putting myself into a revolving door over which I have no control. 

Sigh. Why do I put myself through all this, you might ask? Good Question. 

 I love seeing things in the sky, the trees, the flowers and letting my imagination flow.  

I love clay. I love painting. I love making something from nothing.  

I do it because I love what I see. 

And, I want others to see what I love. 

And I think we all need to see more love around us. 

 

Seeing from the Inside Out

I don’t know where to start writing today. There’s just so much out there right now, my mind and inbox overflows. And one thing I don’t 

want to do is add more fuel to the fire or try to wash it all away. It’s maddening and overwhelming and sad. 

I’m aware. I’m not sticking my head in the sand. I’m just trying to find my own balance. And the only thing that balances it all out for me right now is beauty and art. So I take my walks around the lake and listen to the geese. Watch the ducks swim past me. And, if I’m lucky snatch a glimpse of a heron. 

At home, I crochet because the movement of my fingers in and around yarn soothes my soul. Right now, I’m crocheting red ‘resistance’ hats. Learning to make a tassel was a new process but I did figure it out, finally. The next hat will be better. 

And I doodle and paint and play with clay. This week, when it all got too much, I took out my black pen and let it swirl up, down and around. Then I got out my watercolor pencils and colored the sections in like a coloring book. Another day, I brushed water into each section. Another day, I went over my black lines with more black. It’s nothing. It’s just a doodle. But it gave my mind and soul a safe place to meander for a while. 

Another day, I took out some clay pieces that needed the next step: color. I made these pieces in the last 6 months or so with no agenda in mind. I’ve never made anything like this before. They’re not functional clay pieces. They have no fancy titles or artsy ideas. Maybe I could call them clay doodles? I don’t know. What I do know is they needed color but I wasn’t sure which colors. Again, I had no plan. I just got out my colored underglazes and started painting. 

They will need a clear glaze and firing to be finished. But that’s ok, I think the slow process isn’t just important to the clay.

 It’s important for me, for my mind and my body and my soul. 

To quiet. To rest. To see from the inside out for a change.