Every day I throw the balls up in the air, never learning how to juggle and yet they do land, often in paint, often collaged with words, or handed to a friend coated in wisdom only to be passed to another friend and some keep bouncing up and down in front of me.
Others go so high they return drenched in cloud dust that they stop me in my tracks and I wonder at all the wonder… And I do meet deadlines, teach lots of people every week and finish paintings and poems, and I’ve even published a book.
You see my life like my studio is a glorious mess. One little girl asked the other day “Why is everything covered in paint?” and I said “Do you like it?” she giggled and said yes.
“So do I” I replied.
I think step by step or in bite size pieces. I understand and accept nothing has to be perfect and if it were a painting I could just paint over it and now , I can just delete this ….or not.
I had a brilliant idea this morning. Maybe I did? Well halfway decent anyway. Certainly enough of a thread to make a stitch. A few little words to start the sentence and write this article.
If only I had time …
But no time is just an excuse! I had plenty of time I just allowed it to be interrupted.
I hold onto the thought, thinking I will write when I get back from my round trip of drop offs and shopping, and oh aren’t the clouds perfect at this time of year? I wish I could paint them, or start that portrait I’m itching to do. Now a song takes me back twenty years ago and suddenly the tears prick as nearly forgotten memories flood back.
Then I’m home and there’s an art exhibition in my studio today, of some friends work and a steady stream of enchanted visitors, which I somehow thought I could avoid and sit here and write as it’s not my exhibition.
My neighbour comes over full of remorse for the loud noise of DIY that went on well past midnight. I had gone to sleep happy to hear people doing something creative but the other neighbours complained and so today I hear the aftermath.
Staring at the computer screen I attempt to formulate ideas of “Why we need to ask why?” and retell the story of the boy who asked why and how we need to be curious to be creative.
I’m bored already so I interrupt myself by checking my FB and more messages come through and then more visitors.
I am only half there, my mind elsewhere… off with the fairies as Mum would say.
Now the agitation takes hold as the day is so nearly done and the birds are frantically chirping and I wonder - Do my words like birds need to be heard?
What can I tell you?
That in reality, I am never that focused and I rarely have huge chunks of uninterrupted time.
So if your life is full of interruptions like mine, grab some creative me time however you can, because even this hour of ramble writing has made me feel better, more settled and balanced and 100% less resentful.
Play with the idea that our doodles and ramblings are an important part of the creative process and good for our souls. Sometimes where we need to be is where we are – unfocused chaos and all.
· Spend some time daydreaming today
· Be distracted by nature
· For today, welcome the interruptions. Be present to them
· Get a bit of paper and doodle, write some words, poetry, a song, maybe just allow the words to come…