I'm going through a period of change right now; the blog has been quieter than usual because I'm doing my best to ride the currents silently. I can't talk about what I don't understand yet; I just feel internal shiftings and groanings as I continue my search for authenticity in my work and life. It occurs to me often that we are tainted by our capitalistic culture and by going to art school and absorbing the prevailing dictates to be a certain kind of creative person. I think it's good to question our mission statements from time to time and to ask ourselves if we're really doing what we want to be doing in life and if we're giving as much as we can.
So instead of working in this peculiar state of mind I've been taking long walks along the Molalla River, letting my mind wander as I pluck a stray salmonberry from a bush along the trail or rob a low hanging branch on a wild cherry tree.
I'm writing in my journal as usual but the answers are emerging very slowly when they do. I feel suspended.
My companion for 30 years. Choose carefully my onions. Although I didn't choose. I fell, tumbled, went down like a stone from the first day we met. What is love and how much of it is hormones, fantasy and projection?
As I walked today I reflected on the sweetness of summer. I gave thanks that there was no howling wind, no biting cold, no winter depression.
I think most creatives share my restless mind, my search for resolution, my endless cycle of work, rest, curiosity and dreaminess. Sometimes we know everything and sometimes we know nothing at all.
Okay, here is the take-home, a quote from Carol Lee Flinders. "When a message wants to move from the unconscious to the conscious level, we experience a kind of turbulence first, the flutters that signal disequilibrium."
I like that.