I’m the only one on this trail that is well traveled in warmer months. The colors? Black and white almost.
I’ve ventured out, away from the art I just started. Just started! Yes, I opened these bags filled with small squares of silk color: remnants of work that I’d done in past years. Waiting for me to re-discover and re-explore. And to welcome me when outside is so monochromatic.
I seem to have an emotional pattern with my art making where I begin from a place of discontent. I don’t like that I experience this over and over, but the judgment only serves to intensify it. The discontentment seems to serve as some kind of a springboard: a firm push to DO ART. And then, once I get started, it lets go – the art takes over.
As I wandered through the Lilly Pond woods today, I thought of this pattern. And also of the words in this book that I’m enjoying: The Sound of Cherry Blossoms, by M. H. Mosko and A. Noden: “the (outdoors) is a place that allows us access to big mind (that which is open, welcoming and vulnerable) beyond our small mind (never satisfied and self-protective)”. I realized that I start my art with some idea, an intention that my mind has determined.
Rarely does that pan out. Rarely is that intention what I actually am seeking. Rarely is that what I actually want.
Therefore, I love it when I run amuck. When I see that what I thought I wanted looks dull, expected. And then, I’m in it. I’m in something bigger. Bigger than that first thought.
And that’s why is feels good to get outside. Outside of actually knowing ahead of time what I’ll find. And then, where that leads me…