Ease & Dis-Ease of the Mind

On the easel, like it, afraid to ruin it!

I am feeling the sense of being able to hold a multitude of things this morning, not like pots and pans or laundry or anything but all the thoughts that float into the mind, unbidden. There is a lyrical feeling to it, one of touch and let go.  I can hold the poem I wrote yesterday, the possibility of what I might write here, the etsy order I need to get ready for mail, the question of what I will make for a potluck and on and on until the thoughts trail off into the ether. They form and linger briefly, a small cluster of grape like thoughts, a lovely rich little vine of possibilities. Usually I line these thoughts up in a row like urgent soldiers and they chase me around. Perhaps it is Spring, perhaps it is the homeopathic remedy I took last night. Who knows? Wanting to know the answer to everything is one of the dis-eases of the mind. How nice to just let it all just be.

So in honour of the feeling du jour I will wander around a bit with a tray of hors d'oeurves, holding out some tidbits in your general direction. Some may not be to your taste. That's fine. You are allowed to crumple them in your napkin and toss them into the compost bucket where they might feed new life.

not yet ruined!

Over at Layers blog, Donna gathered a basket of mindfulness to share. She asked a number of artists to contribute a little something on the subject. It's a lovely post about how people start their day or simply a few thoughts on mindfulness.  A few of my words and a photo of my painting spot are included there. Instead of playing it safe and using someone else's words (which I seriously contemplated, ah how we like to hide behind words of the wise!)  I wrote a few of my own.  In researching "mindfulness" I found this lovely page of poems. You can read them here. And then there is the lovely Mary Oliver poem called "Mindful" which you can read here.

finished and reasonably happy with!!

If you stop by here once in a while you have undoubtedly heard me sing my little song about  frustration as it relates to creating art. I am always so envious of artists who say they don't go to this place. But it is part of the process for a lot of us and I was totally heartened in a strange way to hear Rebecca Crowell's words on process as she followed her heart and moved from painting landscapes into creating the wonderful abstracts that she is known for now. You can read that post here.  And in Miriam Louisa's Simons generously offered, free ebook on creativity she gives "frustration" a place in the process. Can you hear my little self searching for reassurance that she's on the right track, wanting to know it's okay to meet frustration in the studio. She is one of the small creatures of the forest.  I think I saw her scurrying across the road in the dark last night. She will find her way.

And here's the little poem that wrote itself onto a painting yesterday:

do not measure the progress of your journey 

by the miles you have covered

it will tell you nothing 

except how many shoes have been worn thin

you must peer into the vast universe of inner space
for your travels have been transcribed

into the journal of your heart

etched and illustrated in great detail

while your heart
has been carefully sipping
cups of joy

and buckets of sorrow

with the same gusto

How's your creative process going?