And so finally, a studio.
The time came and went without fulfillment. A need building until the pressure became too much to ignore. A certainty that that must manifest physically before the journey could continue.
And finally it is.
It is all that I imagined and more and I know it will form the boundaries needed for true evolution.
A space dedicated to one purpose, a space to create.
I am in awe and so thankful to have these four walls and this small space in which to create and explore.
I feel the need to continue the journey and exploration without distraction.
It is a home for the part of my life that has consumed me. A space that can offer the boundaries needed to separate the individual from the task, the identity from the all encompassing, the is from the group.
A reminder that I am but I am also so much more...
It's always been a habit of mine to sketch ideas when inspiration forms... I like to capture as much as I can relegating judgement and criticism for later. Ideas are precious and sketching them in pencil on paper quiets my inner fear that someday perhaps there may be no new ideas left.
I have sketch books stacked one on top of the other and I find in moments when inspiration hides from me that they extend the sweet invitation to put them to use. Flipping through the pages in search of an idea worth fabricating propels the wheels of my mind forward and often inspiration follows once again.
Recently as I have had more time to craft the pieces that inspire and move me I found that trying to find the right page in the right book a hinderance. A purchase many months ago found its way into my hands; a beautiful leather bound book originally thought too special to actually use. I was inspired to take my best ideas and paste them in one book that I could keep at my fingertips. Expanding on this idea I added small notes, inspirational photos and mementos. I love it and it has already been put to good use.
Recently I have spent a lot of time pushing myself to be better than I am...
I yearn to fabricate the pieces I love.
The pieces that feed my soul, illuminate my inner pride and connect the many pieces of me leaving me whole.
I want to craft the pieces that mean more. The pieces that become a part of you, that you purchase not merely for their beauty but because they speak to you.
I want to be something more than I am.
I strive to be, better than I am.
I want to be worthy of all those who surround me in their brilliance.
I want to be moved by those I love and those I look up to and perhaps find in the end...
that they are moved by me too.
It is insidious.
It creeps along as a faithful companion offering solace in a hand held stretched out obscuring that which is kept hidden. With cunning it stands beside us disguising deceit as friendship.
Revelation comes hard as we find ourselves exposed too long. The erosion so slight it continues unnoticed as it seeps poison with patient precision.
It is an artist defined, standing on the brilliance of past achievements, the journey complete, passion left to decay.
Ultimately brilliance fades and the work grows stale. It is an artist with nothing new to offer. The memory of faded glory is all that remains.
It is an indulgence we all oblige, the tendency to find ourselves embracing a formula as we create. It begins innocently yet left unattended becomes the very thing we fight against, a factory endlessly producing genericism in mass.
Continue the challenge, embrace the purity that comes as you explore, push yourself aways....
Evolution stems from the collision of passion and defiance.
It is with passion and defiance that I refuse limitations always searching for the next seed of inspiration.
You are never given a wish without being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however.
The path is upside down and backwards, crooked around the edges, uphill both ways, turning upon itself without reason...
It is with intention.
You cannot rush what turns and changes each second. You cannot find shortcuts that do not exist. You cannot reach what is not physical...
You must accept. You must exhaust all reason. you must give in...
On your knees, with arms spread, with palms open, with complete abandon, you must...
It is not for examination, it just is.
It will not be
It will be as it will be.
It will desire much...
So my darling, stop.
take it all in
It is in the quiet without force or frustration that the whispering can be heard.
It is when you swallow your words that you begin to listen.
It is then that your voice can be heard...
To my dearest friend.... you know who you are.
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
- Anne Sexton
Yes, I have been her kind and I have not found a woman yet who has not found herself the possessed witch, the woman misunderstood, the woman, a survivor not afraid to die.
We carry this burden as we always have. We know ourselves and one another. We see what others turn away from, we stand when others kneel, we witness...
We fight and claw and bite so we will not have to kneel.
It is okay.
A woman like that is not a woman quite. At least not as they would understand it...
Yet we know... a woman like that is a woman quite... She is all woman... she is the very definition of...
We capture strength and we hold it steady and strong, we do not bend, we do not break, we do not...
That is what it is to be a woman.
It is okay.
As knowing is the part that binds.
It is the sisterhood.
When you are one who creates, you never rest. You strive...
strive to be...
better than you are.
It haunts you in the seconds before you drift off to sleep, a melodic beating like a heartbeat pumping within.
The feeling of satisfaction is fleeting. A moment of pure joy before the critical eye awakens and begins the process of deconstruction.
Always the thought,
can I do better?
It is a virtue and a vice. The part you love and the part that breaks you down,
you know inside that if you were to be released, if you were to truly find that part that feels completion, the journey would end.
It is a craving that gnaws, a promise unfulfilled, a yearning, a begging on your hands and knees...
It is sweet. So damn sweet.
It is pain and it is kind...
And yes, oh so clever, this obsession.
It is the path of one who creates...