There are a couple of you out there having a bit of a dumb week. Feel a virtual hug from me: ~hugs~!!!!
And - those of you who don't feel like reading, just watch this:
I was telling someone the other day that reconnecting with the creative process for me has been like reconnecting with my own language and landing further in my own body.
Even when I don't make something I'm particularly proud of...I feel more myself. I feel… fleshier, lol. Like I can suddenly feel even more of the subtlest layers of physical skin – corpuscles dancing, cells breathing and drying and dying and birthing… There’s a background anxiety that has lifted as a result of me gifting myself the time and space to play.
I’ve also been wondering a lot, lately, where exactly art comes from. And what the hell is it, anyway? Not looking for the answer… I just think the question is interesting.
Generally, what is the impulse that makes humans actually need to express themselves? – not necessarily to an Other; expression for expression’s sake seems to be a source of nourishment as important as love or breath.
And specifically, what is actually happening when I, as me and myself, suddenly “see” an idea or when my hand is moving on the page without me, flowing squiggles and shapes, or when my body knows how many and which specific paint colors to choose, and in what amounts, to create the perfect shade of purplish fleshy grey tan I see but not see in my minds eye?
How is it that a little pile of scissor scraps turns into a collage in what’s essentially no-time, in a place that's not anywhere, a color theme already mapped according to whatever feeling is coming with the image, and how is it that I'm only conscious of this feeling which I’m only aware of after the creative process is well under way?
What's deciding which shapes go where, and why? How does all this happen with the me that thinks itself to be in control seemingly absent?
Am I channeling it, or is it channeling me?
As always, I love hearing from you. Someone has already thanked me for posting the stuff about panic attacks, so... my heart is full, my work is done.