New York Stories
Been a week on the road today. 3 days in NY. Hard to get going. Feeling expectation's clenching fist at the throat of my creativity, hinting at a need for masterpieces and success, when what is really needed is to let loose the flow, is simply, as Ruthie puts it, discovery; the un self conscious process of drawing to See.
Today, Ruthie sending me off to the American Museum of Natural History. A new place to explore without the vast possibility of the Met, without the past successes to Live Up To.
At first it is too hot, my legs, my feet, my head are too tired, the pencil much too heavy. But I stick it out somehow, and sitting on the hard ground, begin to discover. The day passes. I am blissfully submerged in my dreaming strokes until, spent, I head toward home, feeling at peace once more.
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Hard day. Getting lost all day. First, ate in a lousy restaurant for breakfast--then lost on the subway, back and forth, honing in on 81st Street and the American Museum of Natural History. HOT! Noisy, dark, full of dead animals...To sketch there is really like a war zone; kids zooming around, every once in a while careening into me, to ooh and aah and distract me from my task. Filled with anger and frustration at it all (and something else?) Finally, stumbling exhausted down to the subway, coming out on some strange street to get totally lost in the Village. Totally turned around. But now I see that the work done in the museum was good strong work and the raging storm simply passing weather. That the getting lost was not because the gods were against me, or that I was clumsily stumbling about, but because, today, the ground covered was New Ground, and such travels are always filled with possibility of not knowing where one is...this is one of the great benefits of going into uncharted regions. Well worth the temporary discomfort.*
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Feeling pressure to make beautiful, impressive drawings. Feeling torn between responsibilities to others and to myself. And drifting, unclear as to a defining purpose. Out of all this, burned free, is a lesson learned about the danger of working at art, of tightly gripping the pencil, of trying to win, to steal, to use. Only end up losing. At times, locked in this determined stance, I felt completely lost to myself as a humble voice for the Muse. I could not find my vision. Cut off from Grace. But now, released through extreme confrontation with this aspect of myself, the creative juices begin to flow again as I reconnect to Seeing with curiosity, truth and love. So, as usual, not the trip I aimed at making, but one filled with growth. And some few good drawings and an idea or two.
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