Im not sure when it happened but today I trust in the flow of life entirely. I trust in the pace of progress, the messy parts in between and the breath on the other end. Today.
As I work on my paintings, I have to experiment. A lot. I am not trained as a painter, in fact, I got very average grade of C in painting techniques class. Perhaps I knew (or thought I knew at the time) that I was not going to be a painter so I didn’t need to try very hard. Or perhaps I just did not like the process and tightness of the color gradation scales.) The cleanliness you needed to keep with one of the least cleanly art mediums. In my humble opinion.
I remember getting so frustrated when the crisp lines the tape was being used for, did not make clean lines. I rushed, I’m sure, I was not patient I am sure. But I just didn’t care to be patient with this type of work at the time.
Honestly, I like the mess. I refuse the crispness and rigidity of the color theory work in tight grids. I want to feel the art I am doing. I do not want to have any resistance to happy accidents or the surprises that come from being messy. Experimenting loosely is a way for me to break down the barriers of my external and internal environment. To feel into the paint and how I am interacting with it in real time is, well, fun!
I ask myself, Can I apply this theory to my life and healing process? Yes! Have I been looking at my messy healing process as fun? Not quite. But maybe, with this practice of finding the right self discovered techniques, I can look at this whole experience as the “fun” of living. The ever changing, always evolving process of getting to know my own mess. Getting to know me.
Painting with my hands, and various tools, the paint becomes an extension of my experience. The movement of the globs and stokes are me and I am moving myself. In the process, bringing parts of myself forth so I can see them. Seeing my own hands in the act of creating, stepping back and observing the outcome, and creating perspective.
I flow between a few different art forms. With painting I swing between the soft and smooth and the chunky and textured. I like both. I would like to incorporate the two into one painting but that is where the experimenting really gets heated. When and where and what and how. I stall. I make marks on swatch canvases. I make no visible progress.
But In fact, I made a lot of progress. Each test or trial, each medium or texture needs it own time to show itself. The drying time of the chunky painting is much longer and the final outcome is unknown until the next day. This slowness and waiting is necessary and a cosmic gift in pace.
I cannot work faster than my experiments conclude. I can not make final decisions without the behind the scenes understanding. And that is okay.
Im not sure I will ever be an artist that churns out finished work at any consistent pace. But I am consistent, in recent days, of doing one thing a day. One experiment, a few brush strokes or maybe it is a poem or just some nice words. In fact, my initial inability to see the progress in the small moments is what makes everything difficult. So instead of berating myself for not getting enough done, I focus on the small steps of progress. And that is wonderful way to look at everything in life.
Great things are done by a series of small things brought together - Vincent Van Gogh
On the days when there is no visual progress, there is rest. The invisible progress of caring for oneself so she can show up tomorrow. Though invisible and not deemed productive by our culture, this act of rest and care is not only productive but a silent rebellion. And my little activist heart can get down with that.
Small acts of progress, small acts of rebellion and small acts of self love. They all add up to one well-lived, human expression that is me. For this, I am grateful.
I am so grateful I get to be messy. Thankful I do not reject my hands and my body. I am content in this slow and steady act of living. As I type this, I recognize this state of being is also due to the peace and quiet of my home during a school day and the pureness of spending time with myself. This is not my everyday but I am gosh darn thankful this is part of my days on some of my days.
I wish you all a messy and wonderful day full of the textures of your soul. I hope that you can find joy in the small bits that are and will be adding up to the GREAT things you want to bring forth.
Slow and steady.
Love,
Rae
so wonderful to read.
"my initial inability to see the progress in the small moments is what makes everything difficult. "
mm, ill be pondering this this morning
Ahhhh, the small joys that add up. Goodness, this sounds like life in a nutshell. I also acknowledge and honour your third line there of embracing the messiness of it all, which may seem so chaotic for the onlooker, and even to us, especially when we're not aware of our own process, but, indeed, is part of our process of getting to the heart of it all. Love, Silvia.