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How the Littlest Step Can Make the Biggest Difference

Posted by on Feb 25, 2013 in art, inspire, sketchbook | 3 comments

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True confession: I’ve been struggling.

It’s not really a secret… generally, when I go underground and stop posting it’s because I am buried or overwhelmed (or, just maybe, a little depressed).

Lately, I’ve been all three.

My much-anticipated Goal Drive didn’t happen. I was hit by a big storm and an even bigger flu. That flu/head cold thing made it’s way through all my littles and then had its way with me and left me beat. By the time I dragged myself out of bed again I was depressed, behind, unproductive and sad. I stopped moving.

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I sort of pride myself on having a high productivity rate. Oh, it’s not always measurable; in fact, it’s often not. Alongside a few finished articles and paintings, it’s more often about innumerable storybooks read, questions answered, and laundry folded – but between it all I have myself fairly well committed, and here in inkstitch-land things run pretty close to the wire… so it doesn’t take much of a slip-up for things to sort of, well, fall apart.

And then, sometimes, I fall apart, too.

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This is a truth we’re all familiar with: It takes energy to gain momentum. It takes some serious oomph. Once you’ve got it, momentum is a generous and wonderful being; it can take you all kinds of places. It’s an easy, benevolent force that brings life to the party and water to the well. It’s a friend to laugh with… but sometimes it deserts you. Sometimes it drops you right on your ass just when you need it the most and leaves you dirty and cold and sitting in some dark place covered in snot and tears wondering how you’ll ever get moving again.

Which, I’m sorry to admit, is exactly where I’ve been. Weeks of big-project-burnout-then-holidays-then-illness robbed me of my momentum and left me bereft. I got feeling so barren and behind that I couldn’t possibly fit “Create” onto my To-Do list, let alone shop listings or tidying the studio. The longer it went, the more impossible it seemed, but I hadn’t the energy to do a thing about it.

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These are the times it’s important to call up this equal but even more important truth that perhaps you didn’t know: Sometimes it takes momentum to gain energy.

Sometimes when your energy has left you, all you have to do is move, just a little, to bring it back.

You don’t have to do the whole dance; you don’t have to know the ending or perform the whole show. All it takes is a tiny wiggle. Momentum wants to work for you. With even the slightest nudge, it has the awesome ability to spring up and start running right where you left off, bringing with it new life and fresh air and a blessed rush of good energy. A small step can make a big difference.

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This here, this is my wiggle: Today I got paint on my hands. I didn’t create a masterpiece; I didn’t try a new technique or complete a painting. I didn’t set out with any goal at all except “make a little mark.” With school work to be done and mud on the the floor and dinner waiting at the other end of a take-out line, I put paint on a sheet of paper and let it dry. A single step, that’s all.

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But that’s all it took for momentum to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way.

I’m still “behind” (I probably always will be), and if we want to continue with the confessions, I’d have to tell you that the muddy floor got mopped with a wet-wipe and that’s probably all it will get this week. Yes, sometimes I think I don’t have the time or energy to create. But that’s okay; that’s when I need the paint on my hands the most. That’s when the littlest movements can make way for some big, gorgeous energy.

Love that.

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trust possibility to be in the road

Posted by on Oct 8, 2012 in mixed media, paint, sketchbook | 3 comments

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We have this history of impossible solutions to insoluble problems.

Will Eisner

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I have a friend who always knows what could go wrong. Under the guise of caution, he is, most of all, cautious with his faith. And he’s very cautious with his dreams. Although imperfectly, this is not how I live my life. Generally I take on a little more than I can handle, get bids on things I can’t afford, draw plans for projects bigger than my skills, and make lists for things that, yes, seem impossible.

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The one place I get miserly in my faith is with myself, with my own most personal dreams. I tell my kids to never let anything stop them, to go forth believing everything will work out even better than expected, and I’ve watched their lives grow accordingly…

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But I don’t afford myself the same sort of full and magical belief that it’s not all up to me. I tend to work as though everything in my life is strictly dependent upon proving myself, through sheer will, grit and elbow grease.

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But while will, grit, and elbow grease are all very handy tools to keep in my toolbox, I don’t actually believe they are the answer, at least not alone. I know in my heart that there is an easier way of living, that joy actually wants to be felt.

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So I’m setting out again, this time with a new intention. I’m going forward believing that there will be things waiting in my path to surprise me, to aide me, to make my load light. I’m going forth, beginning now, believing the journey itself actually wants to bring me joy.

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Because suddenly I realize that that is what I’ve known all along.

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Partial page text: Don’t invent your own bad press. Don’t invest in old ghosts. Don’t believe that old scars foretell new injuries. Remember what you know, not what the gremlins tell you. Forge, baby! The past is not where your future lies!

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Traffic Control

Posted by on Oct 1, 2012 in mixed media, sketchbook | 3 comments

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I did this page in my art journal a few weeks ago, but it sure applies today. This is the kind of weekend it was: best laid plans derailed. And the week is starting out much the same, with sick kids and a mess in the house and more commitments than I can keep.

Mostly, I work well like this. I’m okay to go with the flow and be surrounded by a little bit of surprise and chaos…

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But there is a serene-seeking side of me too, and she’s been feeling a little snarky about things. She’s needing attention, that quiet side. After all that writing time she was getting, she got spoiled, and now she’s feeling neglected because writing time has been in short supply; nobody’s listening to her whispers.

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So I find myself seeking a routine that includes quiet…

Some weeks that’s easy — some, not so much.

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Mostly, I’ve learned to be okay with the traffic jams. I know that they never last; I know that the the slow spots work out and then I’ll be on my way again, complete with quiet and serenity (well) and, yes, even some time to hear the whispers of my soul.

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I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve learned to sketch, doodle and art journal my way through heavy traffic times and at all red lights.

Which works out really well

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Partial page text: Week after week I set new goals and day after day they get derailed. If ever I *almost* get on a roll, some bizarre variable rushes in like a drunken linebacker and knocks me off my feet. I barely have a chance to shift into gear and the light changes. Red, every time. And suddenly I find myself restarting again… I’m looking for better traffic control.

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