In search of a new creative home.
I am searching for a feeling. The feeling of such commitment to and passion for your craft that it pulls you in, causing you to lose track of time, look up and it's dark outside, having forgotten to eat lunch or check your phone. Flow state.
I want that more than anything. And I feel a little fraudulent to admit that I currently do not feel this way about my work.
Drawing, photography, and the #atwildwoman was one of the first projects where I felt it had a life of its own, and I was just there, capturing it. Flow state.
The #atwildwoman has been my creative home, a safe space for the past few years, and I am grateful for her lessons. She has prepared me for what's next, what that is, I have no idea.
It's not just okay to change, it's GOOD to change. It's the way of the universe. It means you are a human, a human whose worldview and desires are expanding with our expanding universe, and this is why you're here.
If you no longer love what you once did, that doesn't mean you never truly loved it. New desires do not negate all of your past ones.
So I am stepping out there, into the expanse of the unknown, looking for a new place to lay down some creative roots. Maybe I'll date around with all sorts of mediums (I just signed up for a sculpture class at a community college) until I find that time-bending passion. Maybe I'll find it right away. I hope you'll stick around for the ride.
I know I'm not alone in this feeling. And I think we all need to write ourselves a big fat permission slip.
A permission slip to change our minds, to change our craft, to abandon what isn't working, to look like a fool, to try something new, to fail, to keep trying, to be a beginner again, even after you've found resonance somewhere else. And another permission slip to feel scared, embarrassed, nervous, and shy along the way, without self-judgement.
And maybe a few other blank slips to use along the way, because it's all okay.
Don't settle. Keep searching for your creative home, the one you've built in sincerity, the one that's real. Screw a perfectly linear creative path. Take a risk. Choose what's real over what's certain.
Yours from the creative unknown,