I have to make a small backpedal from an earlier post where I expressed upset about spending time online looking at other people’s creative work instead of creating my own. What I didn’t acknowledge in the post is I do that sometimes because my body and my brain can’t cope or process any other information when I’m feeling pain. I also do it because I’m trying to learn new things, new ways of expressing myself creatively, since I don’t currently have the freedom to go out and explore the world on my own terms.
The proof that I’m learning – even when I don’t immediately open my journal and grab my pencils, coloured pencils, coloured markers, or paints – is that each time I create something new I’m incorporating a technique that piqued my interest enough for me to learn it and show it off. Surprisingly, sometimes looking through the work of others helps to resurface pleasant memories from when I learned, and used to do, similar things when I was young. I loved art classes, but stopped taking them when I got to high school because I had to focus on subjects deemed more serious. Looking through the work of others is reconnecting me to my creative self and it feels good.
This morning, as if to affirm that these thoughts and feelings are true, I found a video online that has one simple message from artist Nina Paley that “all creative work builds on what came before”. It put a smile on my face and it’s exactly what I needed to bring light to this grey stormy day.
Intentions are an interesting thing. We can have good intentions toward others and have the actions we take result in catastrophic outcomes. On the other hand, we may not apply conscious intentions to a situation and tremendously improve our own lives or the life of another. Personally, I tend to act with good intentions as I go about my life, but we all know the saying, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”. Why am I prattling on about intentions today? It’s because I had the intention to do something for myself – that by all accounts has positive benefits – but I never got around to it. More accurately, I couldn’t make myself do it.
A few weeks back, I got my hands on a copy of the book ‘One Zentangle a Day: A 6-week Course in Creative Drawing for Relaxation, Inspiration, and Fun’ – isn’t that a mouthful – so I could teach myself more about the Zentangle practice and expand the range of patterns I can draw. For some inexplicable reason I couldn’t get started, even though I woke every day with the intention that it would be the first day of my ‘formal’ practice. Then each day the hours would pass without me reading any of the pages or working through any of the exercises. I noticed that I was feeling anxiety and pressure about doing something that is supposed to be relaxing and meditative.
Today the anxiety and self-inflicted pressure fell away. I didn’t intend to start day one of the 6-week course. I didn’t open the book at all. Instead, I used another Zentangle resource that places no time constraint on ‘getting it done’. I turned to ‘Zentangle 1: Basics’, another instructional Zentangle book that teaches you the basics about the practice. That being said, what I’m trying to express has nothing to do with either of the books. I’ve read glowing reviews about the 6-week course, which is why I got it. What this is about is the block I somehow created with my intention.
Crescent Moon & Printemps
Hollibaugh & Static
Zentangle #1
I can’t figure out how I managed to turn something meant to be fun and good for me into a source of anxiety. I’m also wondering how many times in the past when I felt anxiety it was in response to my resistance about an intention I set for myself. Is it possible that I’ve been creating my own psychological fear and pain, and not actually responding to external things? Is it possible that my intuition has been waving red flags that I ignored and chose instead to push through my fear or discomfort because I felt committed to situations I conjured with my intentions?
I don’t know if any of this makes any sense. I don’t know how drawing lines and shapes on paper has brought me to this place. I don’t know why trying to do something within a fixed time parameter is causing me such discomfort when I have always depended on having structure in my life to cope with everything. More importantly, have I been living my life with the best intentions for those around me and lesser intentions for myself? Or, was this simply a case of deciding to work on Zentangles using the less structured resource while having empty time to fill because my internet connection was lost for most of the day?
The Verve – Bittersweet Symphony (Cruel Intentions Ending)
I’ve been feeling off-balance all week. Almost as if I have vertigo. I know that the main causes are my health, the pain medications, and lack of sleep, but the situation with my mother certainly didn’t help. And let’s not forget the ongoing legal battle with my horrible boss, which requires attention that I have not been able to give so my lawyer can finish filing my case. I also had another appointment with the second opinion surgeon on Thursday, but I’m too worn out to write about it today.
The only thing I could muster the energy to complete this week was my first attempt at creating a mandala. It took three days to finish. It’s not the tidiest thing I’ve ever created, but I feel proud in a strange way for drawing it freehand. I’m looking forward to making another one when I feel more energized.
Mandala #1
I’ve been running into a lot of information about mandalas and their spiritual nature in my travels around the interwebs. There is one blogger I found who is working on a 100 Mandala Project. Her name is Shilpa Sharma and her mandalas are incredible. You can find her creations at Shilpa Sharma Online.
I have to admit that creating this mandala had a meditative effect on me. As I was drawing the lines and filling in the shapes, lots of thoughts pushed their way into my mind and I had to work hard not to engage them. I knew I wasn’t having success quieting my mind each time I found myself responding verbally to some of my thoughts. Then I tried to apply the practice of just witnessing my thoughts. That worked a bit better. Although, I must confess that talking to myself is helping me work through some of the emotional turmoil in my daily life. I hope my therapist won’t feel threatened that talk therapy works even when he’s not in the room with me 🙂
My Small Surrenders 