Anyone else out there found this past month almost unbearably long, depressing, heavy and overwhelming?
Today is the last day of it and I've decided to take drastic action;
I'm drowning in words, good words, wise words, possibly helpful words..........but I can't think anymore and what's worse, I can't see. I've surrounded myself with the safety blanket of books, an immediately recognisable identity which I needed at the outset of this journey but now, I'm being slowly smothered.
So......................they're going back to the library to wait until I actually need them as opposed to want them. Acquisition is not quite the same as being.
I have a tendency to buy outrageous shoes in the mistaken belief that owning them is the same as living that life; I buy into a pigeonhole then turn out the light and walk away.
I'm reading Kathleen Jamie today and I now understand why :)
Sunday, 20 March 2011
- creating alongside reading
- the one informs the other
- blurring the edges
- reflection in action
- reflection on action
Anyone else feel this way too?
I'd like to talk a little about not knowing...that place we go to as we create; not knowing quite why we feel compelled to make a certain gesture, or mark or stitch or word...we just know we have to.
I was given this beautiful handmade lace collar by a friend. It had a special place on my wall, waiting....then, recently, I just knew what to do with it. I didn't need to know why, I don't need to know why. The reason was like a fleeting shadow in my mind, then it was gone. No matter.
I love handmade paper; irregular, smooth, receptive, responsive to my touch.
I'm reading Agnes Martin's Writings with great pleasure and resonance.
I like linen thread. I like words. I like stitching through soft, thick paper. It's slow, rhythmic, peaceful, stitching this lace onto the paper.
I wrote my words, I wrote Martin's words; an act of homage and of connection.
I don't mind that I don't know the cognitive rationale behind my doing this act over several days, it felt right.