The painting on the extreme right in my last post didn't earn it's place, so on Saturday I replaced it. With a worse one! Oh well... it happens.
Recently I've been rereading from the pages of
What we Ache For by Oriah Mountain Dreamer;
I know, it sounds a little mystical doesn't it, but trust me it isn't - there are gems in there and on second reading I still think so.
She talks about the fertile silence required as a vital component of the creative process. How ensuring there is enough empty time in your life to come to some stillness and just
be is often what facilitates the flow - and with it the joy of the
unexpected outcome.
'We cannot begin our creative work if we do not have an idea of where we are going, the intent to write or paint or compose, and a practice that takes us into the process.
But we cannot continue in a way that is faithful to the creative process unless, after beginning, we loosen our grip on the original idea and allow room for something else to happen, something that produces more than what we could produce from our knowledge and will alone. And we cannot let go, cannot surrender to the creative process itself, unless we can find some stillness to allow ourselves to stay there where the creativity of a fertile and abiding emptiness can find us.'
I think I've been so busy working lately and so focussed on it, that I haven't cultivated enough time to do nothing - and to stay with it for more than a moment. Preconceived notions, anticipated outcomes, necessary planning and deadlines all crowd in from my working week to occupy the creative space - and in order to claim it exclusively I need to make the time I have more 'sacred'.
The answer to the question 'what if empty time, time without plans, tasks, or scheduled events, is a necessary prerequisite for accessing your creative imagination, doing creative work?' is not within my power to action - at least not for the month of August.
