Friday, 19 October 2012

Priming the Pump (or Nurturing the Creative Process)

This morning I went into my poor neglected studio.

It feels like forever since I felt any urge to even so much as lift a pencil 
but in fact it is probably only a couple of months.
It is so strange not to feel the need to immerse myself in line or colour. 
 I wonder fleetingly as I look around at the evidence of my wrestling with creativity,
 if the change is a simply a sign of getting old.

Still, something is compelling me to fidget about
 and try and find some way of scratching the itch I have had 
ever since  I stood among the ruins of Ephesus.

Something of the bone-like colours of the stone and the earth; 
the chisel marks still crisp or smooth under the fingers,
 and the contrast of age-worn silky slipperiness or dust dryness under the feet, 
 wants out.

The dilemma as ever, where to start.
Sketches of course.
But THIS is new, this reluctance to make a start.
 I who usually just throw myself into things with no fear of the blank page 
now deliberately hovering on the threshold of the first mark.

I realise I don't to begin on paper is the problem.
 I so want to start on prepared wooden boards that have been gessoed,
 and left with a little bite so the line can be incised, 
and the paint built, or dribbled; 
 impasto or wash moulding the image.

That's the rub then. 
 It's energy to prepare the boards that is wanting.
Having no minions other than hubby
 I will have to vouchsafe this part of the preparation to him then.

Well  I'm glad I stopped long enough to have this little chat!
It's cleared my thought processes a treat.
Now I can start on paper!

May you find a listening ear if you need one this weekend,
 and whatever you do,
Be Blessed

P.S.  Thanks to my favourite blogger* I find it is Spirit Day in the U.S.A. and want to stand with all who will be wearing purple today.

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