Here's the good part, though. Two nights ago I brought my sketchbook to bed with me. I just NEEDED to draw and make something new appear on its heavy pages. I wasn't sure what I would do in there, just knew I needed some marks to go down to justify my existence and escape into the visual world. A world where I have enough energy, and actually can control the outcome on the page - at least a little bit! As I sat with my throbbing cankles propped up, hoping for relief, I thought about themes I'd explored through drawing in the past. Shields came to mind. I sure wish I could hide under one for a while! What I'd give for a few days off to .... just sleep. And maybe clean the house a bit, but mostly sleep. If could get away with sleeping under a shield I'd do it. I looked at ancient Egyptian shields from the Middle Kingdom and sketched out some basic forms, adding the cowhide spots and filling a page spread with variations. I started to think about how the form could be used to make little quilted free standing sculptures...hmmm. It felt good to draw and CREATE SOMETHING! Just a little tiny bunch of marks actually made me FEEL better.
Last night, I was determined to continue, no matter how tired I really was. I hustled after school to make sure the birds and dogs were fed, and I made a point of getting the pups out before dark (as in only 6pm now.) At 6:30, I was in my art zone with a cup of strong black tea ready to go. I first hand sewed in a wire to my current large beaded pot piece to help hold its shape. Went much faster than I thought it would. After that, I hit the sketchbook again with my little watercolor set and added tone to the shield designs. Now THAT felt good. Did it look good? Not sure that matters. I spent time MAKING. DOING. Watching paint fill shapes and saturate paper. Chilling out a bit. Inventing. Engaging. Gently, on a small scale.
It felt like breathing.
Not taking time to "do art" -- to get engaged in the "my mind is relaxed and I'm not thinking about anything" mode - makes me feel like I am holding my breath. Days go by filled with a million things to do and I easily give up my creating time in favor of all the other life-fires that need extinguishing. I think we all do. After missing a week in my house and having a week of pretty pathetic energy once home, I've held my breath a long time. I usually love the beading process as the meditative one, but sketchbook work works, too. Color feels good. Soothes the soul. Provides surprises.
So much of my life and time is helping other people get to and learn about their creative zones. I love facilitating and "coaching" people to grow in directions that helps them use art processes to have better lives and be happier. Having this simple page spread in my sketchbook now serves as a reminder that it works for me, too. That I showed up, despite exhaustion (and a pretty icky state of situational depression, too.) When I finished filling the page spread, I felt good. Like I'd shown up and planted some seeds for another day. I might not get to making the sculptures for ages, but the idea is there now, at least in drawing and painting form.
Art is magic, restorative, and is always there, waiting for me to come play. I am listening to a long audio book on mindfulness and see the art-overlap. I am a terrible "meditator" in terms of being still and listening to my "blank" mind. Working within the "art zone" / flow / moment is where it is at for me. One bead at a time, one line at a time. One breath at a time. One day at a time.