Wednesday, I felt more joyful in my work than I can remember. I took my computer out to my studio to begin compiling photos of my artwork on one file, so that I can then begin to match art to text. All for the book(s) I am working toward publishing.
I have been dreaming of being in this place for so long.
While none of the process has been drudgery so far, working with these images feels so much more joyful and sacred than writing and editing. I have found those tasks fulfilling and inspired.
But these images are like children, precious little beings with their own hearts and agendas. Not so precious in that I created them, but more that they even existed somewhere inside of me. They are an expression of something. Often something beneath the surface or wordless. That is why I feel it so important to accompany my words with them. They make the words come to life for me. Add element, dimension and luminosity well beyond the text.
They come from a deeper place. A place beyond words. A heart place.
While the seeds for the words and feelings emanate from my heart, they filter through my brain to form. The images, however, bypass my mind completely. They leap from my heart and emotions through my fingers and onto the page. They often surprise and delight me.
I am grateful the dream has become reality.
• How and when do I let my heart take over?
• What emerges when I can shut my brain down and just be in that space?
• How can I consciously get there again or for the first time?
• How do I enter that creative space reserved just for me to just be myself?
Shimmering deep within,
my heart and the
creations it holds
call to me.
Whispers have
now become roars
of resurgent energy,
forcing me to
find the time and
space to give
them form.
When I can,
I am astounded
at all of the little
creatures that
trickle out,
one by one.
How does one place
in me contain so much?
I believe my call is
to regularly empty
that chamber.
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