Truly Powerful People (397)

397.
Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Last week I pulled out everything in the studio; all of the archives, the drafts, the drawings, the paintings – all of it, and I took a good long look. It’s been a year since I completed a painting. I lost my arm for several months (I put it down and couldn’t remember where I left it) and when I finally found it my working life was blown to smithereens. It is amazing how much energy is required to remake yourself. And the truth is, in the midst of arm-less-ness and work-life-explosions, I had no energy for my artist life. I was empty: e.m.p.t.y. Zip. Ziltch. Nada. Who drew that? It wasn’t me.

The good news is that I have been empty before and recognized the feeling so I let the field go fallow. In past incarnations I would have panicked and forced myself to produce something, thus, draining the tank even further while convincing myself that I have no business being an artist. We do not grow wiser as we grow older, we grow more self-loving and that looks wise. There is less room for self-abuse and too high of expectations when you recognize your mortality. The moment I recognized my empty tank I thought, “Time to rest.” So, I did. All winter – as we are supposed to do in winter. “Be as the bears,” I thought as I rolled over mid-hibernation.

Today I stapled a canvas on the wall. It was an old canvas, gritty and color smeared, perfect for jumping back into the pool, getting back on the pony, picking back up the brushes. Some of my paint had dried over the year so I chucked the jar across the studio, banked it off the drafting table and scored when the jar went into the waste basket – swoosh. Not rim. Sometimes you want people to be watching! But since the studio is a solitary place I roared like a crowd and pranced, arms in the air (both arms) as the basketball player that I am not. It was a game winning shot, of course. Raw Siena gone all rubbery and here I am taking a victory lap having just won the championship.

Ana once told me that my goal now is to make the world my studio. I think she is right. A studio is a sacred place to me so why contain it? And since I accept her notion as an intention I’m issuing a blanket caveat: if you find that someone has drawn on your walls and you exclaim, “Who drew that!” It wasn’t me. Unless you like it; then, I will do a victory lap, make roaring crowd noises and pretend that I knew all along that you wanted drawing on your walls.

One Response

  1. David, this is a vision I will not get over, as I sit in the far side of my painting studio. knowing exactly what you speak of and loving your willingness to paint my walls. I am here to see what happens, my new guide, see what happens.

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