A New Year

Everyone always has "New Year's Resolutions"...I know I get romantic about starting new as often as I can. But I have to say that I have started to think about the fact that while New Year's has a nifty date and lots of people are often doing similar things (new gym memberships, diets, lifestyles, etc), I am reminded that we can always make each day, hour, or moment new. I don't have to wait for the fancy date or appropriate holiday to start new.

Today I went shopping at American Apparel. It seems really expensive to buy simple, solid color clothing there, but then I remember that this what what it used to be like when people got paid well. So now I can feel better about paying so much because someone has made enough money to afford health care.
But I digress.

In shopping today, I paid attention to this weird process that comes along with clothes shopping. I usually feel pretty down after a rousing effort of trying on clothes, and today seemed no different. I see the skinny manequins and how stylish they are and then I feel bad for not being a motionless, lifeless, one size fits all, inanimate object. Yikes!

So I tried some stuff on, was about to feel bad about the way it looked, and then I thought, I have a choice in how I approach the way I costume myself. Sure, I want comfort. And of course I want style too. And a living wage just rocks my world. So I don't have to walk the runway when I try on clothes and I can say to myself, 'Hmm, I like buying clothes here and while I am not at the height of my exercise routine and eating habits, I do really like how I FEEL in this shirt.' It's an amazing spin. No, the belly doesn't disappear and birds don't start singing, but I can start to have a relationship with what I buy. I can by for comfort and sustainability and THAT makes me FEEL good. It was just an interesting thing. Normally I feel a bit embarrassed that I don't walk in with all the latest styles, but again, the point is how I am approaching the whole process. Yes, I want to design clothes for myself (and hopefully others) that aren't just sylish, but also comfortable and flattering. I overheard one girl saying to another that sometimes she kind likes looking good despite discomfort. She found something special in that I guess. And I giggled, as my rolls of fat jiggled and then I relaxed, knowing I can feel good NOT wearing uncomfortable clothes.

So here's to not only a amazing new year, but to anything I (we) decide to make new: my (our) self-image, buying practices, perspectives, habits, etc! See you in 2006!

Inspiration

I got up early!!!

I want to thank those of you who have read my blog and given me really important feedback. One email I got yesterday (I'm including an excerpt) was really inspiring. I really appreciate not having to work through things alone in my apt...art doesn't "happen" in a vacuum!
I'll try to keep people's stuff anonymous (unless they comment directly to the blog)...

"Can you wait until you really feel inspired?...i.e. not push it until then? And by the same token, let joy in whatever you are doing provide the energy and the inspiration for the next step. Even mundane things. Be as present in this moment without thinking about the next and you might find yourself at the end of the day having gotten just the right amount accomplished. Also, don't beat yourself up over this...that's just another way of avoiding being present. Be an amused and compassionate observer of your own eccentricities."

This is a GREAT point. Where am I going so fast that I need to be inspired RIGHT NOW? And can that even happen? Not really, I guess. Actually yesterday I spent quite a bit of time working on something that before felt really lifeless...I allowed myself some time to saturate and lo and behold, it ended up being fun and I've gotten farther on that than I did in the past few months!
The other great point was that beating myself up pulls me away from the present. Yikes. How easy it is to leave the Now, huh? And really, who wants to read a blog about me beating myself up everyday? Not me!

I also chatted with some other friends last night who told me some good things:

Get out of your own way.
Doh! All my chatter about this feeling like that and that over there supposedly because of this...just do it, woman!

Take the risk.
I have a few things I want to work on, but I am afraid of "messing them up." Well, there's no accomplishment if there's no risk.

Do the work for yourself and then you can look up later and see if anyone else likes it.
This is a tough one. Do the work for myself. Do what inspires ME. After all these years, it's like I am getting to know this new person (me) and finding out what I like, what moves me, what makes me tick. I really enjoy that concept, but it's always been hard for me to make new friends...or at least learn about intimacy with new friends.

You don't have to have had an education in art to be creative and artistic.
If this weren't the hardest thing to understand! I DID go to art school and I know how to do things, and still, I find that doesn't inform much of anything. It just allows me to gather supplies. :S This friend told me that he just enjoyed doing his art (music, drawing, song writing, etc) and found that he learned from that what he really liked and that allowed him to get to know what other people might like, but the initial emphasis was on what HE liked. Fascinating! Cause that takes the guesswork out...I find that I can easily get caught up in what other people MIGHT like before I realize that I have my own preference. I also find comfort in imitation, which isn't all that bad, but I am less likely to go out and come up with an idea on my own. And there's where the risk is...

Again, I really appreciate the kind words and the challenging words...I need them to reflect on what's happening.

On a different note, a part of this whole trip is that I am not working right now. That plays a huge part in my fear factor. We're talking about the sustainability of this and I know I had some protective energy this morning regarding going back to work. That's a good sign. An uncomfortable one, but a good one. It's hard for me to fight for myself, especially if I have the option of giving my energy away, but I think I realize that if I go back to work, then working becomes a way to escape this process. I want to set a public intention of finding ways to "work" creatively and making a living without having to compromise this special, and probably rare, time.

While I don't want to work for money alone, I am definitely open to occasional gigs: housecleaning, cooking some meals, laundry, making a commissioned piece, fill-in work, office assistance, Reiki, feng shui, etc. so that I can contribute without having to go back to 8 hours a day.

I wish I could show you what I am working on, but I will wait until I have given to its recipient. I think today though, after I trek out into the world, I might hit the sewing machine...and then maybe I'll show you THAT.

Oh, and I signed up for a Hip-Hop class today! I've been wanting to do that for a LONG time and now I'm signed up and ready to go! I've also looked into ecstatic dance (see links on the side) and I'm going to try to go to that once or twice a week too...I miss dancing!

Thanks again for being a great audience!

The "Fun"damentals

So I was inspired to go through my closet because I figured that maybe I should address my environment before I start in on any projects. I think having a proper place to work and a general feeling of comfort and creativity definitely paves the way for expression.

I find that having clothes that don't fit, or that make me feel uncomfortable for some reason is really a waste of space. The idea of getting thinner to fit into them or developing a liking for them (which is even less likely) after a period of time is really depleting. I've tried many times to see if I could manipulate myself into fashion, to no avail.

I like wearing clothes that reflect me and how I want to feel. I am excited to design clothes or elements of clothes that I am proud of.

I get too wrapped up in expressing a specific way and I am learning that there are many levels on which to express myself.

How can this be art?

How can this part of the process become artistic?
What do I need to start?

I read something interesting yesterday in Dan Millman's "Everday Enlightenment":

"If I never do my best, I can never fail, because I'll know I could have succeeded if I had really tried my hardest."

That's totally it. It's a paralyzing thought. Here I am, paralyzed! There's also something about people not really liking their gifts. It's ugly to even think about, but there it is.

What am I feeling?
Scared. Frustrated. Excited. Nervous. Expectant.

I spent all day on the computer, looking for jobs! Yikes. A friend came over to distract me (it was already too late to start anything) and I was thankful. I have an ink cartridge that is missing it's yellow, but I can't take it out because then I have no excuse not to print some stuff I need...the excuses. I feel like I am addicted to the excuses...they flow so easily. Can I be that comfortable with not-moving? Josh goes away in the morning and then I slip into this inertia.

Okay, I can't keep writing. I need to do stuff. Anything to keep the motion going. I think there is a part of me (ego) that likes the bon bon eating scene. If I don't risk, then I won't fail. I notice in others that there is an energy of carefreeness that I don't seem to have coming as easily. Spontaneity is not a natural talent of mine.

But I will stop writing and see what happens. Good music should help.

Dumping the Brain

It's useful for me to wake up and write right away because it allows me to dump my brain. Like this morning I woke from a weird dream where I was with a group of people and we were on a marine biology type boat and there were all these fishy things that people were looking for. Someone told me I had a "good hook" (which I have no idea about). And we rescued a woman who was going to be eaten by an eel. And the people on the boat with me were catching weird, white, flat fish. Flounder? Anyway, I was eager to get off the boat and stop investigating this stuff.
I also like to write because it lets me sluff off the day before a little. I can start new. As well as I can start to frame my day through writing. I can have some productive time looking at the space before me and try to organize it.
Today I will have a lot of time alone to work...I think time isn't the issue...I was afraid to discover that. Materials can be another "imagined" block as well but it comes down to taking that shaky step forward. My feet feel like lead when I think about actually starting a project (or finishing it, for that matter). I could find so many other things to do.
I read a book called "Getting Things Done" and one of the major points it made was that when you have a project to do, you can't just put your project on the "to do" list and move from there. You have to break it down to its most basic steps.
For instance, to start a sewing project I have to go to the fabric store and by the fabric. It may sound simple but you wouldn't believe how many times I have been stalled by the "next step." I am having a hard time deciding what to do first (Another easy way to stay immobile!). I have many things I need to get done, a few I want to get done, and a few still that scare the shit out of me and probably won't get done anytime soon.
-->to that end (the one about being scared), I am frightened of using my art to explore the darker side of my childhood. I know it's there to be explored and I have made a living ignoring it, but it seems so vast, like I would never finish looking and probing. It's not just that my dad died, or that I was sexually abused, but it was the aftermath of those things. It was how they affected me and maybe how they still affect me that haunt me. Sure, I lead a very nice, comfortable, even stable life now, but it's daunting to know that my fear of creating may even link to those events.
I guess that's why I have to keep going...I have to dig in.
I was doing some inner work and this idea came to me that if I didn't acknowledge this shadow part of me, I wouldn't be able to access my purpose very effectively. It was a profound thought.
I don't even think I have written about it much. Maybe metaphorically, but generally I try to stay away from that stuff. Where to begin? And how many pieces? And, and, and...
This is my real struggle...if I open the beans, then what happens? How do I know I can survive the opening?

Faith, I guess. I have to trust that closer examination of my life won't kill me (which is a real, even if irrational, fear I have). I'm beginning to understand my energy system better through this too. I know I can feel the presence of people who aren't standing in front of me, but can I also access my own childhood energy? Can I also sit with those images and feelings?

How do I CREATE fear artistically?
How do I face this part of me that would rather just keep writing until my fingers fell off?
What does the blank canvas represent?

Another good book I read recently is called "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" and a big point in that book was writing a mission statement. You can write a personal one, one for your relationship, one for your family, for a project, for work, etc. It helps you clearly define your purpose and keep you on track.

I'll start there.

My mission is to tap into my wealth of creativity by exploring my shadow side, opening up to my intuition, and letting my experience of life be reflected in my art.

Wow, that just tumbled right out.

I had a moment with a friend recently, talking about how I dress, and I realized that I have this love hate relationship with my wardrobe. But the exciting part is that I have made that choice. I picked out/bought the clothes, I choose when to wear them, I choose how they fit, etc. Because I have all the power in deciding what I wear, there's no reason I should hate anything I wear. There's no reason I should feel shame or awkwardness...and really no reason I should keep things that don't make me feel good. When designing clothes, I'll keep that in mind. It's not just what looks cool or trendy, but how I want to experience myself. Do I want to be comfortable? Do I want to be versatile? Do I want clothes that do or don't accentuate certain parts? All those things should go into designing. I want to feel and look confident and stylish. I can create that.

Okay, I won't go on anymore. I am trying to make these entries somewhat readable and enjoyable. If I have more to say I can always come back...:)

The Plan

I'm on "vacation" at this point...trying to catch up on some relaxation before the new year starts. But of course, inspiration doesn't take vacation and my mind reels with ideas and concepts as I fall asleep.
Here's something interesting: I am feeling more inclined to do personal art not just to express myself or reflect, but I am feeling drawn to communicate to otehrs how I feel about them. I think I have rarely thought "Hmm, I will make this piece for someone," unless it was a birthday or holiday present. But I realize that I feel a lot of love for friends and family and those people play really important parts in my life and I want to honor them with that.
Challenge: I have so many ideas, where do I start?
And our place is so small, I feel cramped. I will create anyways, I know, but still. I am dreaming of a studio space.
Even if I just make enough money to break even on renting a small space, it would be worth it.
I think I will wait until I am making money to get anything going space-wise. I can work here. It will discipline me to clean up after myself. :) Lots of learning.

It's hard not to work now. Before I had a job it was easy to not work and not feel that bad (guilty, idle, etc) but now, I feel like I have to make the most of my time. I am trying to think of ways to earn money, even if it's a little. I can't turn that part off.

My first day...

It's 9:14am on December 23rd, 2005. It's as good a day as any to begin. I'm sitting in my Ballard, WA apt. My desk (well, OUR desk--Josh's stack of papers and computer is next to mine) is a mess. My camera is perched atop my scarf, accompanied by my badge from work, some crappy headphones, and an ipod with a spent battery. It's almost like my clutter has gathered together to see what will happen. I wish I knew.

Itunes is belting out my 'Top Rated' music, I'm wearing an Occidental College sweatshirt, my black fleece pants, and my red down slippers. I haven't showered in a couple days so my hair is perfectly matted from sleep. I am baking tiny little pumpkin bread loaves and Christmas cookies for our friends and family. I think the transition from office work to artwork needs time and patience so I am appropriately busy.

Background: I've been working since April 19th, 2005 (you'll notice that I have a thing for order, especially dates) and although it has been nice to get the monies and pay for stuff (heat, light, food, and the occasional trip to Banya 5) I have to say that I really feel like my soul took one look at the tiny storage space that I was temping in and went on vacation. I felt it leave...but couldn't entertain the idea of really committing to an artistic life. I pause at this point to reread "committing to an artistic life." I was too busy writing to edit myself and keep the words from tumbling out so accurately. I wanted this to be a kind of project...one that would eventually end and then I would go back to the soulless life. But I know that it can't be that way. Part of my maturation process is that not only am I currently faced with the future of a committed life in my relationship to Josh, but I face my own commitment to myself and my expression of myself, which means living the artistic life. It's a life I have BEEN living, more or less, and now I have to turn and look at it and perhaps, if I can stand it enough, CONSCIOUSLY create it.

When I was younger, I wrote that I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. I don't even remember being an artistic kid at all...I just remember having an idea of order and chaos and trying to living in between them. I had no idea what being an artist meant...well, it wasn't the same idea as I have now. Two and a half years at art school framed it pretty well for me...for a little while it gave me an excuse to NOT commit to art. I wasn't "crazy" enough to cut off ears, live hedonistically, and paint for 8-10 hours a day...so I let it slip out of my hands. I saw "artists." They had a look: mussed hair, eyes glazed over thinking about something inspiring (I imagined), artwork in galleries, their friends with loud laughs and a strange and intricate knowledge of wine.

Let's see: I've got the hair, sometimes the eyes, and loud-laughing friends. Three out of five ain't bad.

So I have spent a good chunk of my life doing different things...trying to dance with creativity in any way I could...most times I could only accept my own creativity if I was in therapy. Something about the two just go hand in hand. I feel fairly stable now...and of course that's when the idea of living an artistic life comes back around. To be fair to myself, I do live somewhat creatively and artistically. I have lots of books, some paintings, lots of notes jotted down on receipts, clothing that doesn't quite "go," and homemade christmas presents every year.

I think having more awareness and consciousness is about the process IN art. There is a process that I have denied myself...I get too frustrated and I quit, never quite examining what is happening when I get frustrated. I haven't explored my feelings THROUGH art.

I did this one shadow box in art school, my very first quarter. It was imitating Joseph Cornell's work. His shadow boxes were these strangely intimate pieces that he did for people. I made one of/for my dad. Since he passed away when I was seven, I have very few things that I hold onto regarding how I see him and how I saw myself as a kid.

It's a very simple box: He wrote me a letter before he died (he wrote a whole book to me and my siblings) and I took that letter, copied it, tea-stained it for antiquity (a great technique) and then did the same with the page I wrote (at 8 1/2) about being an artist when I grew up. I ripped those pages so that there was half of each and put them in the background. The letter from my dad was about how bright I was and what he saw in me and of course, my page was about what I saw in myself. On the bottom part of the box I glued a piece of fabric from my first sewing project (which went horribly, but I was still proud of it). Then I have a glass container of purple yarn that represents my bright purple carpet in my house in Kennewick. That image of my carpet, of the sun hitting it early in the morning, warms my heart.
Then I have a few Fisher Price people (the choking hazard kind) who are separated in a little cardbox box with a house drawn in the background. Those little armless people were my safe haven. I loved playing in solitude with my Fisher Price dolls. I could do it for hours. I would make them all line up (I had a lot) and march them through the town, one at a time. It was a lot of fun...:)
Then I have a white ceramic poodle. I collected them I think. I had a poodle in real life and I guess I just liked them.
And lastly I have this antique minature ice cream parlor chair. I got a set from my great Grandma Taylor. I never had any dolls or even a dollhouse, but I liked the chairs.
I painted the whole box green and then where there was some white poking out, I painted orange in the background. It was the best thing I did in 10 weeks of sculpture class and maybe even 2.5 years of art school.

Anyway, I look back now and that piece was deeply personal...it expressed this photographic style of memories that I keep with me as I navigate life. The words of my father, the good parts of my childhood, my own self-awareness, and the museum-like quality of my life. I love that piece. And I want to make more. I want to document the process I am going through and the process is DIRECTLY related to the creation of art...the messiness, the chaos, the idea of feeling powerful enough to CREATE a sense of something...creating emotion, creating a scene, creating a place to really engage in what has happened in my life.

Some things I am uncomfortable with: having drained my account to pay off my debt, I feel humbled. I have always supported myself (with the foresight and investments of my Grandpa Bing) and now I am partnering with Josh financially...it's a strange thing to even write. I can't even say "Josh will be supporting me." (There, I said it) It's a concept that I have been trained not to allow...but I see that there is something in that letting go...there is an openness, lightness, and a comfortable not-knowing. I may find something deeper than I imagined in the surrendering to the support of another. It may become support from many more...I never would have allowed it before. Something about pride...I think I still want to temp every once in a while so I can have some play money, but for the most part, I am committed to the challenges as well as the triumphs.

I also feel uncomfortable with the idea of expressing myself simply to express myself. I feel weird about it. It's strange. I have always seen $$$ when it comes to work or even play and this is a true test. My soul and heart, both excited to have some power back, have no problems of course. But my ego is really not liking this. I just have to be dilligent. I can liken my relationship with Josh to this process. I had no idea what was in store, all I knew was that I really liked him and I wanted to see how far we could go. And that has helped me develop a strong love and an unwavering commitment to him AND our process. Although looking internally is a lot harder, I know that those steps worked: moving slowly but REALLY intentionally. Looking at each part and making sure it's what I want to create. That's a really important part of my life.

On that tip, I think the commitment isn't just about time. It's about paying attention to the fact that I create my life in every aspect. I create my wardrobe, I create my speech patterns, I create my thoughts, I create my work. It's terribly liberating, emphasis on the terribly...now, look. I just said terribly...it's not terrible...it's amazing. It makes my heart speed up, and my leg bounce, and my hands move faster across the page...I am staring at the most liberating part of myself, the ability to create. Creating is really powerful. Not just biologically, but physically working with something and seeing it turn into something else...something a few days earlier was just a thought. Man, that's incredible. So how about incredibly liberating?

Judgement is always a challenge. Comparisons, perfection, monetary validation. It's all looming overhead. But commtiment is about seeing beyond that. Not looking outside to validate...looking inside to see if what I created truly reflects me. That's the only criteria. If not then I can go back and change it, if so, then I can move forward. Exciting!

So this blog will be documenting all this stuff. It will get heavy and long-winded for sure. Feel free to read it daily or check it when you're bored. I think there's a way to post comments/questions so feel free to do that. I am interested in not creating in a vacuum so any books, movies, websites, inspirations, critiques, etc are welcome. And so is commission work. :)
Happy reading.