In the early morning hours
Ebbs and flows, ups and downs, ins and outs.. over and over.. when I color inside the lines, my mind flips back to the quiet contentment of a 4/year old with her crayons in East New York. It’s a peaceful place in my body that often simultaneously conjures images of my dying mom in the fetal position, diminutive, small and skeletal, as she became just a shape hiding under a thin, elastic hospital blanket.
It’s 3:30 am. I often wake up at this time. Post to Pinterest because I’m being taught, told, lectured, that this is the most powerful search engine/social media platform for creators. And, apparently, I am a creator.
These composite animals have been living in this particular huge moleskin for a few months. They beckon my attention on occasion. Most of my work is like this.. i follow IT. Meaning, I create something and listen.
So, I take a little time trying to make sense of these 2 pages of composite animals. Often, what’s right in front of us is the most obvious of paths to walk, and as well the most obscured. I regularly walk all around the block, to simply arrive next door to my starting point. It’s a regular thing.
There is a painting I wake to each morning. This particular morning that painting hanging in my bedroom made its voice heard loud and clear. There are layers of perception. There is the initial hit of light-color-scale … which can also become apparent when moving from an outdoor space to an indoor space, or visa versa. Then there is the secondary read.. how do I fit in here? What is it that happening around me? Then where do I belong? What is my part?
As I move into this mature portion of my life with respect to all of the possibilities and limitations that are very clear and present, my work is first and foremost in my mind. My work as it collaborates, my work as it resonates in the world, my work as it can bring me sustenance both spiritually and financially, my work as it serves to make me a better person in this planet, a better collaborator in this life.
I am trying to stitch these many parts together to discover a deeper connective tissue. To locate a spark, an igniting of energy that can rise to the surface, speak to the heart, through the eyes with a little nod to the voice that tells a story.
