(blackberry curve / a foggy morning on my street)

i have a million things to say and nothing at all.  i was in my happy zone, feeling quiet because my mind was buzzing with wonder.  due to circumstances outside of my control, i have been propelled into the grey foggy zone which coincidentally has me feeling quiet because my mind is buzzing with exhaustion.

you know.  life.  its a series of ups and downs and curves and bends.  the fog has a way of wearing us down, pushing inside and spreading throughout.  the interesting thing is that i live in an environment that rarely sees fog.  it is generally dry and crisp especially at this time of the year but every once in a while, there it is, a surprise and i always am in awe of its beauty.

i am trying to hold on to that, the beauty that exists in the fog and applying it to the grey opressive fog that has weaved its way through me. 

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i went to art camp and took writing and photography workshops, i connected to my essence and then i went to new york and wrote poetry in the pages of my journal, smashed in thoughts and recorded it all through a photograph, went to photographic exhibits and fell in love my polaroid sx-70 over and over and over again (eventually, i’ll post the photos).

i came home and other than pulling out my blackberry to snap a photo here and there (like the one above), i haven’t taken a photo, not a one.  i came home and seemed to lose my ability to write online or in the many journals that litter my home and bags.  i try to speak and my tongue fumbles around in my mouth, unable to express myself.

i came home and we finished organizing the basement, carting truckloads of stuff off to the donation centre.  with a near empty basement in the main room, we purchased more mikes and sound equipment and strung fairy light lanterns and completed a fully functioning studio ready for rehearsals and no need to scoot around boxes or trip over dark cobwebbed corners.

and i found an armful of blank canvases …

i came home and started dreaming of colour and paint and images and i started frequenting art stores again.  i organized all my paints, all my papers and bought an encaustic iron, a heat gun (!!!) and so many pretty colours and beeswax.  i found a big box of unused, stashed away for this vision of an art project i had years ago (a good five years ago if i am honest with myself and you) of inkjet transparencies.

i went to art camp and wrote and took photographs and i came home ready to finally make art again, to finally tackle head on the dream i have of mixing photography and paint, encaustic wax and oil smears, mixed media of papers, clayboard, polaroids, transparency transfers, layers upon layers of dreamy beauty. 

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i remember now what i love about art.  the process, its all about the process.  its about the passionate response, the dialogue we have with ourselves when we are immerse ourselves in the doing what we love for no other purpose than to breathe in the act of creation.

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the universe seems to be conspiring to tell me something, something important for my heart.  A couple of weeks ago, thanks to the amazing Brandon Stone (you know the creator of photobloggers.org, a site that i started participating in over 5 years ago which completely fired up my photography muse and lead me to such an amazing supportive community right here in my own province as well as elsewhere, good stuff), i discovered the Vivian Maier site via Brandon’s twitter and I am forever grateful.  her photography reminds me what i want art to be for me.  much like Robert Frank, her photographs are filled with such amazing emotion, such passion and it simply takes my breathe away.  I was incredibly fortunate to see the Robert Frank Exhibit of The Americans at the Met while I was in NYC in September. 

I could be wrong about this but I have a sense that for me, I need to hunker into myself for a while with regards to the art that I produce.  I find it incredibly interesting that Vivian Maier’s photography was undiscovered until quite recently (go to the site, read the story, its fascinating), that she apparently, went and photographed just for the passion of doing it.  I love that, love love love it.  I have a secret stash of photos, mostly street photography, mostly black and white film that I never show online for various reasons but they are some of my most favourite photographs and I wonder if its because I know even as I’m taking them that I likely won’t share them because I am doing them for me.

The thing is, I started the photography businesss.  I shot for money, mostly weddings and I learned a lot, oh my gosh, I learned a lot.  I loved it and I have had, for the most part, only fantastically fabulous experiences.  The thing is, it changed photography for me in a big way.  It became about everyone else and not about me and in that I lost something valuable, something that fed my soul.  When I was away at squam and new york, I sort of found it again, that part of me that loves photography.  I took photos of people for me, I took photographs of life just for me and it felt damn good.  so good.  beautifully good.  I’m still going through the photographs because there is no rush, no pressure, its just about me.

We give away so much of our energy all the time and its not a bad thing, mostly its a good thing.  We give it away to our kids, our families and loved ones, our friends, our work but I think that I forgot that my well needs feeding too.  If I am giving it all away … what am I leaving for myself, how am I filling up my energy on a regular basis.  Exercise and regular sleep helps.  So does eating healthy and just having fun.

But.  I am an artist.  I always have been in some form or another.  I need it to fill my soul, to give me light, to feed me.  I think that once I started giving it away, exchanging it for money, I lost something that I desparately need.  Please note that I am talking about me and my unique situation and not anyone else … I think it is completely more than fine to make money from our art, it is necessary even for most artists and I am not saying that I wouldn’t take money for my art, um … hello.  What I am saying is that for me, right now, on this point in my journey, this one moment in time, I need to hunker down and fill myself with creating for no other reason than to just create, play, get messy and get back in touch with me, to fill myself with the light that I find in art.

I need to still give my energy to my son, my husband, my family, my friends and my job but otherwise i am taking a hiatus from all things business while i also give energy to myself.

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Yesterday I twittered, “I am the crisp crackle of an orange leaf fire dipped in ink and splattered across a page of white”.  As Autumn begins to burn into the white winter breath of cozy up inside, I am ready to come alive and pour colour across the landscape of my inner light.  For once, I am looking forward to winter and to being a wee bit selfish and to explore myself and my art in a way that I haven’t in far too long.