This morning, my two older boys are at camp, Chris has peddled his bike into work, and Chachi is sound asleep in our bed with the sunlight pouring in on his golden head. I just folded two loads of laundry, got another one going. Got some sweet affection from my dogs, who now have gone back to bed. I came to the computer to do some homework (long over due) for my Evolve class, which is learning the business of art, while I wait for Chachi to come stumbling in for a hug and some breakfast.
A cool, gentle breeze is coming in the new window Chris put in. The sprinkler is showering our garden for a much needed water bath. And my mosquito bites from a fun time at the lake a few nights ago itch like mad. I keep staring out the window into the massive Blue Spruce wondering what the boys are doing up on top of the mountain and what is in store for their day ahead.
What I am avoiding is the fact that class last night was uncomfortable. I can’t see how these corporate, and I know necessary ideas and models, will fit into my little art world. Or rather, how I can fit into them. I feel like I am reaching far beyond my reality to try and make this work. The list of all there is to be done is getting longer. There are licenses to obtain, accounts to set up, web content to pull together, files to figure out, social media to learn, market collateral to come up with, proposal templates to make sense of and then use, and still so much more to think about, research and learn.
I miss hours on end of painting.
I often hear and have conversations with others about “finding the balance.” I can’t seem to find that place. A good friend of mine uses the word harmony instead. I like that image. That you strive to have all the pieces of your life come together like a beautiful orchestra. Giving each instrument it’s solo and spotlight, but ultimately creating a piece that is cohesive and fills your soul. I feel like I am playing a beautiful bass, an okay clarinet, a too loud trumpet, a big, fun drum, a sweet flute and a very squeaky and out of tune violin all while trying to hold the conductor’s wand… baton?….what are those things called? and be an attentive listener in the audience. Anyone else feel this way?
I love the feeling of mountain pose in yoga. Finding strong grounding in my feet with my toes splayed and firm, balanced front to back as well as side to side. Lifting my bones with my muscles up out of the earth and reaching with my huge wing span up towards the sky. I want to feel this way in this whole manner of the business of art. Firmly grounded but reaching. Reaching with grace.
Last night in class, I so very ungracefully fell off my mat and wanted to curl up into child’s pose and fall asleep. I felt like I was in eagle’s pose, all twisted up, trying to balance on one foot and just fell over on my face. I couldn’t begin to see the answers to the questions that were being asked. My classmates sat quietly writing, focused and in a flow. I just stared.. doodling on my worksheets and writing profanity that I really wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted nothing more than to go home. The instructor and my friend noticed and I gave her a pleading look that I was totally stuck. She was helpful and calming and I stayed the duration but still feeling like a poser. A Ted talk was shown about the power of body language. I had seen it before. Can you use strong body language called power poses to change your mind set and get different results? Can you fake it until you make it? or rather fake it until you become it? hmmmmmm?????
Exhausted, I drove home under a beautiful full moon, climbed into bed where Chachi was curled up in Chris’s arms and snuggled in. Ahh….. rest.
Chachi is now here. He sits on my lap slowly waking up. I can find some grounding in this. Today will be about finding footing again and growing some roots before I stretch again. And that is enough.