Creating takes risk

It’s Finding Me Friday. I’m happy to report that I finally have a diagnosis for the completely avoidable complex injury and it’s expected to be treatable without surgery - dance of joy. Although I’ve got to keep up on pain meds for a while longer and my range of motion is a work in progress, my doctor wants me to slowly start getting back to life, so I’m baby stepping my way forward. My first stop, the studio.

It’s been a minute and I’m feeling rusty. Prior to me being sidelined, I was in an incredible flow of creativity, and even started to take some bigger creative risks by letting what arrived on the canvas lead with a level of ease I hadn’t felt previously in my practice. It seemed like I was beginning to find the essence of my artistic voice. I am really craving that creative mojo again.

While I was couch surfing, my sweet hubby made a trip to Michaels, and two, brand new 30 in x 40 in canvases were smiling at me. At that point there was no easing back in - I wanted to throw paint and let the shit go. One unwrapped, then the next. One up onto my easel, the other on the wall. Gesso flying, colors mixing, tunes a blaring, ice packs strapped on, let it rip!

I didn’t think about composition, value, or if they were good enough to sell. All I cared about was what felt good in that moment. I pulled out mark making tools I hand’t tried before and others I hadn’t used for a while. Lots of happy accidents, stumbled into goodness, missed the messy middle completely, held nothing back, didn’t question myself or the work - and in the end, I absolutely loved what I created.

I am a living example that art has the power to heal us from the inside out. Through the act of creative risk we begin to excavate experiences that are seeking release and recalibration.

Where are you craving some creative risk?

Keep creating.