The word “play” is not one I would use to
describe my current studio practice.
Over the past few months, I have undergone some major life changes,
which have greatly impacted my ability to sit still and comfortably give into
my creative process. While
attempting to balance the new responsibility of homeownership, preparing for
motherhood, and academic demands I struggle to remain present in my studio. Unable to create a clear space amongst
the endless boxes, which litter my new home, I find myself buried in a pile of
frustration. In an attempt to
break through this, I found myself digging up some pieces I made long ago,
reminiscent of “playful” carefree days.
As I worked over the pieces, I could feel the frustration slowly melting
away as my fingers gripped the paintbrush. Watching the ink wash across the surface created a sense of
familiar wellbeing. As I continued
working, I could feel how effortless each brushstroke became, and with it came
a sense of almost forgotten calmness.
During the few quiet hours I sat at my kitchen table, I was able to
immerse myself in the process of just “being” and enjoying unhurried breaths.
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