don’t breathe a word

I am not sure exactly why I have been silent here this fall; it could be that I am overwhelmed with the amount of work that I need to do, both for AIB and with my return to my full time teaching position at SCC. I am sure that I do not know how to begin to say what needs to be said. It is quite probable that as the days grow nearer to graduation the perfectionist in me is winning, that in search for the right answer, the best work, the correct opinion of what my thesis needs to say I have no words. Like there is a correct opinion . . .

I can say that I am ruminating; my thoughts not clear on my new processes. I work in fits and spits of inspiration and before being distracted by my responsibilities, all the while thoughts my editor in my head says, it’s not perfect, you are not disciplined enough in your art making. This is not new to me; unless I am playing this has always been my process. There is always the moment for me as I am working on something new that reminds me of “the deep breath before the plunge,” diving into the deep end of the pool and not knowing how to swim. Sometimes I just want to know where the joy went. I don’t feel this when I play, but it is in the approach that changes everything for me. When did making art and writing become a job on my endless list of things to do that never gets crossed out.

Amongst a number of pieces I am working on I am playing with a chair that I have stripped of all but its skeleton, looking for its foundation, later I hope to make the chair deceptively comfortable, letting others view its hidden dangers. In times of chaos and insecurity I need to find structure.