And then in March, it was like the faucet turned off.
I felt twinges of panic that my creative juices had been used up...My mojo washed down the drain while cleaning my brushes.
And yet, I kept showing up.
Talk about unsatisfying…
I spent hours throwing paint on canvas only to paint over it the next day. At one point I was rotating between seven paintings waiting for something to happen.
In the midst of my creative angst, I looked for new inspirations. I made museum visits. I splurged on new art reads. I marched in protest of gun violence. Practiced yoga and tried to be mindful of all the things that sparked passion.
And yet my stall continued.
About 2-3 weeks in, a light bulb went off. Maybe I was moving to a new place—growing. Maybe this was something to embrace.
I reminded myself of how infants advance physically only to regress verbally in the development process. Growth isn’t linear. That thought was helpful and I committed myself to be open to where my journey might lead.
Maybe this was a PAUSE.
An invitation to be fresh.
Perhaps I was exactly where I should be-- this was a bridge to a new journey.
Something happened this week. With Alice Merton cranked up, I found myself dancing -- mesmerized by color and creating with my boldest voice.
I did my best to stay out of my way.
In it, this work “I Ain’t Pretending,” flowed.
I am still mustering the courage to be new. To not rest in my comfort zone. I am looking at this pause as excitement. And trusting I will always have much to say.
Oh… this creative journey forever surprises. Wishes for all your cylinders be firing and finding ways to express them…Namaste.