Bodies in motion...

...stay in motion.

This is what went through my mind the other day when, as I was running with my little sidekick in her jogging stroller a neighbor said, "You have so much energy!" I laughed (a sort of panting, half laugh), but the fact of the matter is that I exercise in order to have energy. It's a vicious cycle, but the less I exercise, the less I feel like exercising, so the less I exercise, so the less I feel like exercising, etc.  I'm sure you all know what I mean. As I ran along thinking this it occurred to me that creativity is the same way. If I'm creating, I'm constantly inspired and ideas seem to flow. If, however, I sit around waiting for inspiration it never comes and my well runs dry.  

In painting, as in exercising, there are days when I feel like I just don't have it in me. However, I've realized I very rarely feel better because I "rested." Instead I usually feel annoyed with myself, short-tempered, off-center. So, on the days when painting seems like a monumental task (because anything you're committed to will, at times, be hard work), I tell myself I'm just going to "show up." I savor the ritual of laying out my paints on my palette; I dab at my colors, mixing, experimenting; I touch up just this tiny section. Usually, by this point, either I'm feeling better and back in my element, or I've uncovered the real source of my resistance ("I hate this subject," or, "I'm bored with this size," or often, "I'm scared I won't be able to pull this off."). 

You're allowed to walk. You're allowed to take it easy. You're allowed to have off days. The important thing is to keep moving. 

I was rewarded by a beautiful sunset at the end of my run.

*Note: I'm in the process of changing blogs. Please follow me at erinhardin.wordpress.com. Thanks!

The Next Right Thing

When my husband and I were just a guy and a girl who kind of liked each other but weren't dating, we went running together a lot. These were our "dates." I remember one time when I was just about dying for the timer on his watch to go off, signaling the end of our run.
"How much longer do we have to go?" I wheezed.
"Ten minutes," Josh answered, looking at his watch.
Ten minutes! I couldn't go ten more minutes! Overwhelmed by the thought of such an insurmountable amount of time, I stopped. Sure I probably could have gone a little longer, but not ten whole minutes longer, so why bother? Thirty seconds later his alarm went off.
He had been attempting to motivate me to keep going by implying that we hadn't been running nearly as long as it had seemed. However, that's just not how my mind works. I'm not one of those that can look toward the summit as motivation to get up the mountain. I have to focus on this step, then the next, then the next, each in its own turn.

I've discovered this applies not just in running, but in other aspects of my life. Kitchen's a mess? Just do the dishes in the sink. Then just put away the clean dishes, clear off just this area of the counter, etc.  I find it especially applicable to art where every creation is, in some way shape or form, unchartered territory. This painting is too huge and I have a deadline? Don't focus on the deadline. Just paint in this moment, just work on this square inch. I have a show coming up and I'll never get enough work finished? Just focus on this step. Go to the art supply store, sit at your easel, paint, clean your brushes, block off your painting time for tomorrow, and so forth. Julia Cameron, author of The Artist's Way and several other books on creativity calls this doing, "the next right thing." Last week when I wanted to cry constantly for the loss of my pet, "the next right thing" kept me moving through that initial pain to bittersweet acceptance and peace. From exercise, to art, to life and loss, taking one more right step will see you through. What is the next right thing that will take you one step further up your mountain?

My current "mountain." I feel like I'll never get this pine cone right!

Anyone have any overwhelming projects looming on the horizon? How do you handle them? Any tricks to share? I'd love to hear from you!

To see my last painting of a pine cone (which I also moaned over until the last coat, when I ended up loving it), click here.

I confess I have been quite distracted and unproductive lately. I don't know if it's due to summer, pregnancy brain (we just found out we're having a girl), or what, but I vow this week to get back track. I've done pretty well so far and, I must say, I feel better when I'm productive.

When I was a little girl my Memaw gave me a tiny brass vase. I didn't really think about or notice it much growing up, however it is in my mental snapshots of every place I've ever lived- from my childhood bookcase, to teenage dresser, to college dorm desk, to my current spare room studio.  It's held a wide array of flowers from remnants of bouquets to weeds that I thought were pretty. It makes me happy. I know it's just a vase, but I like that it's been with me so long. I like the millions of different colors I see in it. And I love who gave it to me.

Recently my little vase has found its way into my art. I have wondered if I should polish it, but I like that if you look closely there are millions of fingerprints on it. I wonder if I would see all the reds, greens, and lavenders in it if I cleaned it up. So, I think for now I like it just the way it is. My sturdy, loyal, little vase. 

Nike has the right idea...

Sometimes regardless of how fun your job is, every occupation is work. Today, art feels like work. It's rainy outside, I'm working from home, and it's very tempting to curl up and watch a movie. However, I'm really trying to be the absolute best artist I can be and that just won't happen if I wait around to be inspired or only paint when I know a masterpiece is going to flow out of the end of my brush. Would I even remember how to hold a paintbrush if I waited for that? So, just a reminder to myself (ESPECIALLY to myself) as well as all my artist friends out there and all my friends who deep down inside are artists but have a never-ending supply of excuses about why they don't do art- not every painting (or whatever kind of art you do) is going to be magic... not every one is going to be good, but every one teaches you something and is a necessary stepping stone to the next. And who knows, the next might be magic.
So,
Just...
Do...
It!