Time and Light Switches

So it’s been a week, a week since I wrote anything. I said I was going to take a few days off, 4 or 5, now it’s been 7. Taking a break, for me anyways, can be a bit of a trap. Because now coming back to the land of sentences and paragraphs is daunting. However there are positives that have come out of this little vacation. I managed to get some more work done on a painting, which is taking me a very long times to get through, and I now feel happy about starting back in on my book, probably come Monday.   My heart has felt rested enough to be able to paint again, no anxiety no stress, just brush and canvas. I’ve noticed that I can be a bit all or nothing, I’ll finish a painting in one sitting, or it will take me months. This one is taking my months, and when I eventually finish it I’ll tell you the story, but until then it's just for me.  I’m apprehensively excited to get back into the book. I’ve accepted that it will take near miracle to meet my self imposed deadline and s...

Sometimes I feel like a broken record. Repeating the same thing over and over again, add a new scratch mark every rotation. Talking about the book I give no further details to, about a self imposed deadline, about how I keep leaving and returning to painting.   I think because more than anything, writing this blog, is accountability. Am I really being creative, I am really exercising my creativity, am I truly being active in creativity in my life? The honest answers right now, today, this week, this month, has been not really. Not even a resounding no, just not really.  I thought perhaps I hit the bottom of the barrel, the limit of how much my creativity I have to give, I think I just hit the limit of my capacity for creative outlet. I think my creative bone is just plain tired. The battery isn’t out of juice, it’s just strained. I’m not completely out of juice, just fatigued from giving out. I’ve been going hard after it since January, without taking more than a weekend b...

Balance, you need it to walk in a straight line, and you need it to lead a healthy life. Between mental heath, physical heath, and spiritual health there has to be a balance.   It’s been a slow walk to take good care of my body. It doesn’t come easy to me, it requires me think, be completely on top of myself. It’s the first thing to go when I get lazy or get lonely. But physical health at least is pretty straight forward, there’s no vipers waiting in the grass, no real pitfalls to watch for.  Mental and spiritual health however are beasts of a different nature. If you can get a handle on the spiritual side it’s not as hard to hold onto, but mental health? Mental health, which is a lot like emotional health, that is where the true battle lies for me. It may come easier to me, but knowing all the right answers gets me in just as much trouble as forgetting them.  People say your 20s are about finding yourself, so far I’ve spent every waking moment just trying to learn ...

  Every time I return to my easel it feels like a miracle. Like a magical occurrence of returning to a place I never thought I’d see again. Every brushstroke settles a rattling in my chest. It feels like a gift, shinny and tied up with string. I’m at peace.   I haven’t been able to paint much, not in the last year or so. I’ve picked up a brush yeah but I haven’t really painted. Painted where it comes tumbling out, like stumbling into bed at night, honest and sure of foot. I started to come back a little while ago, but I hadn’t been truly been back till now.  I began with a painting that I’ve needed to paint for years, a letting go of dreams lost, and I’m not quite finished but I feel ready now. This week I finally stopped with the excuses too. Got my but up out of my chair and poured my heart out into the paint. Felt good, like being washed by the waves.  Yes, I finished an entire series of paintings last year, and I’m happy I took on the challenge, but it ha...

I started keeping a journal when I was 18, kept the same notebook through the end of the year 2019. I wanted to process and keep track of all the marvellous and terrible things that were occurring. I was living three days inside every spin of the earth, morning noon and night, each spread out like the vast expanse of… something. I didn’t start keeping a journal because I thought it would do anything, I started writing it all down because I didn’t want to forget. It was a glorious and exciting, and heavy time, it was a lot and I didn’t want to forget it. Now the most I remember is the nights I sat, with only a glow of light, and poured my thoughts and memories into the pages of that notebook. I remember the people too of course, and the love and wonder, but I remember that patch work covered notebook best.   I had a migraine yesterday. It’s been years now, less than it feels, but I still keep a journal and start a new one for each turn about the sun. I’m not sure it does much ot...

Well, let’s start this week off with a bang, I’ve been writing a book since March and I am making my best attempt to finish it by June. The first draft that is. And so far so good, it's the fastest I’ve ever had a story come together and the easiest flow to stay in. I’m just passing the 25,000 word mark this week and it feels great.   I don’t know how to talk much about the creative process outside of my book writing because in all honesty its been weeks since I’ve picked up a paintbrush. The simple excuse is that my studio is in the basement and away from the sun and I want desperately to sit in the sun. The acceptable excuse is that I am so invested in my writing I don’t want to stop to paint. The raw uncomfortable excuse is that I don’t really want to paint because it feels like work. I think painting has started to feel high stakes and so I’ve been hiding away in my writing.  All my excuses in tow are varying degrees of understandable, I think I understand digital arti...

This week is about distractions. I’ve been so distracted as of late, getting sucked into tv and then distracted by all the different things I want to do on top of what I’m already doing. I’m in a great flow with writing the first draft of my book, but I find myself wanting to paint. I’m so deep in the creative process and in my own creative garden of ideas that one artistic discipline isn’t feeling like enough. It’s like the stronger I get the greater the weight needs to be to keep me tethered to the ground.   Right now in terms of the book, I’m in the second act of the story. From what I can tell it will be comprised of three acts so I’m a third done. It’s crazy exciting, but talking about it feels like now I’m gonna be held accountable to finish the book. Which despite how intense that feels it’s good for me, I need a little pressure I guess. I also feel like I can’t write fast enough, I’ve gotten to the point where I know clearly where I’m going with this story and I can’t wri...