Art Making is a Gentle Teacher
If I mess up, it doesn’t yell at me or berate me. If anything, it seems to delight in the mess of creation. Every tentative mark, bold gesture, and accidental splash is creative fodder. It doesn’t judge good or bad. I’m grateful for this because my inner critic isn’t always kind and sometimes pushes me in ways that aren’t helpful.
When it’s Time to Rest
Still, if I’m attuned to my painting process and my body, it will warn me when I’m pushing too hard or controlling the process too much. I notice a tight feeling in my chest or shoulders. My movements become stiff instead of relaxed. Or I get a feeling much like I’m late for an appointment or trying to rush to the finish line. When any of these happen, I’ve learned that it’s time to stop and put the paintbrush down. Take a step back, take a deep breath and let all the angsty stuff go. It’s also best to set this particular painting aside and let it rest for a bit.
This is one of the reasons why I find it helpful to work on more than one painting at a time. Having multiple works in progress gives me the flexibility to move on to something that’s easier or that has a clearer path at the moment. I circle through the paintings until the earlier painting calls me back or until I’m ready to try again.
Creativity is Patient
Although creative inspiration can light a fire that drives us to express ourselves and make things, creativity is also a patient teacher. It doesn’t mind waiting. In fact, when I surrender control and turn my focus elsewhere, it’s like the painting still communes with me, but on another level, a level below my conscious awareness.
This other part of my brain occasionally noodles what I might try next. Not in an anxious way, but in a curious open way. It’s this curiosity and openness that allows the painting to speak to me. It whispers sweet nothings in my ear, mini inspirations and ideas that make me eager to return to it.
Follow the Stepping Stones
And so when I next approach the painting, I have an idea of some small thing to try next. I’ve come to realize that it’s much like working with my intuition and spirit guides. I am rarely shown the end destination, instead I’m given enticing stepping stones. It’s the same with my intuitive painting process, I don’t see the whole finished painting in my mind’s eye, I just feel/see/sense the next step, and I take that step. I try it out, which gives me something to respond to, and then I try the next thing. I keep going like this until I tire, get stuck again, or have to get back to other life activities.
Either way, the painting will wait. It stays open and ready for me, and it welcomes me back like an old friend when I return. Usually it’s a day, sometimes two, other times more gestation is needed and it may need to sit for six months. The waiting time is not empty however. It’s not purposeless. It’s waiting for something in me to shift so I can see the next step. And when I do, it’s like creativity claps with giddy joy, grabs my hand, and says let’s go paint!
