30 days of making images has been much harder. A gift as sweet to give to myself, for sure. Creative health. Emotional release. Adventure. Reflection.
I find this 30 days of embracing, making, carving out a world sheds all but my stubborn nature.
I want it easy.
Not a fast shutter click of perfect light, subject, framing.
I want this creative life to simply leave me alone.
Life is easier when I don’t have to answer the call–the rustling whisper of wax covered papers, the lyrical humming of light under a tree. It is like a chattering toddler who relentlessly pursues your attention.
The tasks of day to day life become burdensome. A handful of errands you do filling time like an excuse that will work this time right? Because if I don’t have the time, I don’t have to make the art. Other tasks you do dreading them, because you know you are using them as a shield. This pile of laundry is essential to life. It is the block. If the laundry folded itself, the ideas would come. Life would be more airy. I wouldn’t be brought down by the mundane.
But all these words. Enough of them. Here are a few of the 14 or so images that I made over the course of 30ish days. If you know my work, you know 14 images is prolific for 30 days. Even if you can do the math and know that half the time I wasn’t making images.
I am signing myself up for the course of life that says, the only way to fail in art is to stop making it. My grade for my 30 days then is passing.