(This is my cat Starfish taking a nap)
I’m wandering around this morning in the fog of a dream that won’t let me go.
I was at an intensive art immersion. Four weeks living and breathing and working our art, with weekends off.
At the end of each weekend my husband would make me this big, yummy, homemade pizza on a cookie sheet which I would carry around with me all the way to my room.
The setting looked exactly like the resort I went to in Cancun this past winter, but those gorgeous open spaces (rooms with no walls, protected by wooden screens above and jungle around) which were bars in the resort were painting studios in my dream.
And we were staying in these little villas which we got to through winding walks through the jungle.
So I had my homemade pizza and felt supported and nourished. I was surrounded by beauty and lots of space and everything I needed to make art.
I was painting every day.
But I was painting more of the same thing I always paint.
And at the end of two weeks there, I was remembering the interview process for getting into this intensive. They were asking what I wanted to accomplish here and I said I wanted to find the new work that was calling me.
And yet here I was – painting more of the same.
I sat with that, and I knew… I KNEW what I wanted to be painting. I wanted to paint a horse.
But like a different kind of horse.
I mean I needed to experiment and try stuff.
But I couldn’t. I was frozen.
I couldn’t take a risk in front of all of these people! I had to keep doing what I knew would produce good work because people were watching.
I just sat there and cried.
I felt how badly I wanted to take a creative risk. I felt how much money and effort had been put into me getting to this intensive. How important it felt that I did take a risk.
And I just felt frozen. So I kept crying – it was all I could do.
So now it’s morning, I’m awake, the dream is over but I can’t shake it.
And I can’t shake the questions:
What is this new work that is calling me?
Because it feels different. Like not the new projects and I ideas I have for the Creative Dream Incubator but something different.
Where am I holding back out of fear of letting my risks/attempts/experiments be seen?
I’m not sure.
But I am starting by drawing a horse.
It’s weird – I mean I don’t know what horse features really look like but I just played around with it. I’m drawing it as a symbol of my commitment to my creative process and to following inspiration and intuition wherever they lead.
I’ll be married in two weeks.
What’s kind of funny is that I loved being single so much I didn’t pay any attention to the benefits of being married.
I mean I saw so many people, women especially, dull their dreams in order to have happy home lives with their hubbies and I wasn’t ever interested in that.
I learned how to support myself financially with my creative work. And I’ve always just done all of the cleaning and cooking and laundry and never really thought about what it would mean to share these tasks.
So now here I am in a place where I am sharing the bills and the work. My life just got easier.
And I feel as free as ever to pursue my creative dreams.
So it makes sense that new dreams are emerging now.
And new dreams are always scary… risk-taking and awkward first steps and not-knowing and practically drowning in questions with no answers in sight.
It’s exhilarating too, to follow your creative impulse.
I don’t know where this is leading me to, but I wanted to share this here as some kind of marker on the path.
I am setting out to find the new work that is calling me.