Wednesday, June 24, 2009


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.

Cherries on the hiking trail.

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.


Janine said...

Oh how I hear you! I go in and out of these often. Way too often if you ask me.

I have an empty plastered board just staring at me and I am fighting with myself on what to do. What colors, etc. I too need to stand back and wait!

Oh those strawberries look so good I must go out and buy some!

Martha Lever said...

I totally understand this disequilibrium. Yes--I do.

Beverly Ash Gilbert said...

It sounds like your right brain is trying to vie for attention over your left brain - the one that drummed in the 'prevailing dictates' and forced you to stay the path of your mission statement.

Wandering, wondering, veering is where you found your muse in the first place and is obviously what you should be doing right now!

rebecca said...

you are ..just as natural as the weather.
exploring your season. holding tight to important seeds. embracing, surrendering..
i find your post extremely beautiful.
oh the wonder
of it all...

Kelly Kilmer said...

Ah, I know how you feel...I think as artists it's always that tight rope, fine line-all of it we walk and struggle with. We're affected more then then "normal folk". ;)

Your post did make me smile...cherries, strawberries, handsome men-Freddie (!) and wonderful from the heart art.

Thank you, Judy, for being you.

paperbird said...

Wild cherries on the trail? Oh my they look delicious.
Your post is beautiful.

mary ann said...

"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."

i like you. i like listening to the thoughts in your head. they're interesting.

i always did subscribe to Plato's idea of love as erotic madness.

anna maria said...

Thank you for sharing your feelings as well as the quote.

Plato's description of love, offered up by Mary Ann, is much more poetic than my comparison of falling in love with getting a very bad case of the flu. You feel unstable, a little crazy, a little queasy, and you think you are going to die.

Jennifer White said... coincidental that I've had this conversation with a few people lately as far as the meaning of that word and how people's interpretation differ. And here you are, writing about it. I'm intrigued and so respectful of what you share, I hope your thoughts are coming together. I'm spending two days with Katie Kendrick @ Valley Ridge this week and doing some amazing things...I can't even express it in words. Your name has come up more then once, and even talked about your garden since I am still amazed @ how much your wonderful husband does....sending positive thoughts and energy your way Judy and continue with your authentic journey of discovery.

quiltedcavalier said...

Your posting is so personal, yet so identifiable for your blog readers, like myself. And the pic of Freddie Mercury! Where on earth did you find that! Thanks for sharing your Disequilibrium.

MB Shaw said...

I love hearing about your contemplations....I am heading off to the beach (NC, Nags Head) to do similar thinking and writing myself. Well I have a couple more weeks, but time nears. I so crave contemplative time as life seems such a *crush* lately.

Thank you for being so honest on your blog. You've stopped me in my tracks today. And that is a very good thing indeed.

Stephanie Lee said...

sigh....just look at the love in the eyes of the man that holds a cherry!!! I supposed he fell too...willingly, I'm sure.

disequilibrium. Yes yes yes. I am there too. I love that you put it to words for me. :)

Jack Ekstrom said...

Sounds to me like you're just totally crazed, a raving loony about to go totally over the edge. Me too. Hey, a trip to Santa Fe for the Indian Market will just HIT THE SPOT! It'll give us an entirely new Outlook.
Thanks for your comment on my blog, Judy. I wanted you to know that that guache painting of Two Old Twins is a picture of Justine and Joanne. We all walked by those old lookalike houses and they laughed about "We're just two old twins!" I never showed them that picture.

Debbie Goode said...

Thank you, I struggle myself these days....feeling lost, waiting for that creative energy to return.....

Joan Tucker said...

I appreciate your reflection and have shared similar questions with friends. My counselor reminded me.. that your oversoul or deep self already knows the answers.. that truth comes out through dreams, puns, floating words, images.. watch for them and listen..
We are sometimes not ready for "next". It will come.

Best of luck in your quest. I blog about such issues in
awildpatience Respectfully Joan T

Seth said...

Wishing you the best on this part of your journey. You seem to be making the choices that you need to stay authentic. And that is a good thing!

Laurel said...

Disequilibrium...the storm before the calm?

Poetic Artist said...

Your post I think touch all of us as artist..Things are different for us and we search.
We have to be true to our self.

A.Smith said...

There is no such a thing as "resolution". The quest is all that exists, primary, vital, the true lifeline to the spirit. As there is no destination. Everything that matters is the journey. The path, the road, the signs some times misunderstood, the ability to see where we have been, yet questioning where are we going. Art, Life, Life, Art.
One and the same if we find the magic thread with which we close the open gaps that the outside world persists in making from where, if we are not cautious, all we are in essence and all the essence of our work escapes.

You have nothing to worry about, for as long as you have the question you have to intuitively know that the answer must exist. It always does. But the answer is never the resolution, it will always engender another question, and the journey continues.

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

Maybe, Judy, your inner core is striving for further release, to let your heart be free, without parameters. Wishing you a path of harmony.

Amy Stoner said...

Beautiful post and so fitting. I think we do always battle with these internal feelings, especially those of us who are really trying to make a living as an artist. There is business, capitalism, and then art. And sometimes the art takes a back seat to what we really wanted in the first place. So hard.

Thanks for the wonderful worlds Judy.

milkcan said...

I'm a long time lurker, but I loved this post and I just had to comment. It really resonated with me.

Rella said...

You wrote: "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".....THIS PIECE OF YOUR HEART WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING MY EYES FELL UPON TODAY.

XO rEllA