The Artist's Way ~ Difficulties

The difficulty with projects like this is that you are expected to do something. Besides read the book, I mean.

Homework.

For this, we are assigned morning pages, daily; an artist date, weekly; and tasks that vary each week. This week, we are to identify our core negative beliefs (blurts) and counter them with creative affirmations. OK, I ask myself -- when do I get too old for this? How many times, in how many different ways, must I do this? Yes, I was one of those old-fashioned therapists that actually believed in what I was doing, and indulged in it myself. Twenty years ago (or so) this included examining exactly these issues.

I don't mind looking at them again, but I do not want to experience them again. When I began writing and drawing, every attempt was emotional hell. I went to a weekend dream workshop. The leader, David LaChapelle, asked us to draw our dream, and this request elicited my own personal nightmare. At the end of the workshop, he drew me aside, and told me: it's not normal to experience that much pain around creativity. It's not inevitable. You can change it.

And I did, with the help of David, and other dreamers and writers and artists, and therapists. I identified that vile, hateful voice that denigrated every creative effort, and transformed it from a powerful monster into a spiteful little kitten (now named Blurtz.) She may still be able to wound, with those tiny teeth and claws, but she can be managed.

I do realize, though, that I've not drawn in years. During that creative explosion, that sparked my poems, I drew nearly every day. It was like a meditation, and seemed to use a completely different part of my brain -- of me -- than my writing or my work. It is that practice that I would like to reignite.

Today my body reminds me that, while others on this path may struggle with time -- family and friend and work commitments -- my challenge is simply: energy. I forgot that I can't just order some up. It is not as though I have a long list of activities I usually do, that I can prune down to make room for this. When I do too much, I pay. Today, even light-footed Henry cannot come to my lap without setting off sharp pains. My body is a pinball machine.

I had planned an artist date for today, but pinballs and rain and exhaustion postpone it. Perhaps tomorrow. I did the morning pages. I am choosing from the task list what I will do this weekend.

I do not regret doing this. I am determined to do this. It feels right -- as long as I can still manage, at a minimum, my weekly snapshot poem and Friday cat blogging. Odd priorities, eh?

Comments

[kat]

i don't think they're odd priorities at all. ((hugs))

[Marilyn]

All that matters is that they're YOUR priorities.

[Jana]

"I identified that vile, hateful voice that denigrated every creative effort, and transformed it from a powerful monster into a spiteful little kitten (now named Blurtz.) "

That is an AMAZING way to think of the "Censor." I love it!!!!!! Maybe I should try and think of mine as a character... *pondering it*

[bobbi]

I also like the idea of taming the internal censor by making it something tiny, albeit with sharp teeth & claws1

Your priorities seem all right to me...but perhaps I'm a bit skewed...