Today my walk with Delilah taught me a very different lesson. At a steamy 90 degrees outside, we set off for our walk already dragging our tails. Now I had it in my mind to get out and do our business quick so we could get back home to a tall drink of water and the air conditioned living room, but not Delilah. No, with the temperature turned up, she was in no mood to rush at all. As a matter of fact, she deliberately stopped at every single patch of grass that was covered with shade, throwing herself on her back each time to cool off. Our twenty minute walk was nearly doubled by the time we got home, but Delilah didn't care.
Yesterday, I spent the entire time in my studio shoving papers round and round the work table in an effort to complete the collage pictured above. By the time I went home I was under no small amount of stress; Not quite satisfied with what I had on the table and knowing I'd have to keep working on the design when I returned. I felt like the day had been a colossal waste of time. My image list is due for the SOFA Chicago Exhibit at the beginning of September and I've committed this month to getting the fronts of at least 8 of these 30" x 30" works done. The proverbial heat is on and my inclination is to rush.
So often this is what happens when I have a deadline. I get in the studio and let my inner critic take charge. She's such a bully. No time to sit and gather wool, or look at a magazine for inspiration. Every move I make must result in a display of brilliance or she's quick to jump in and tell me just how lacking my efforts are and how much I am blowing it.
Yup, the inner critic is a real tough cookie to work for. Is it any wonder I felt so stressed out when I left?
That's why I needed today's lesson from Delilah. With the heat turned up, Delilah knew the only way to get through the walk, was to take it nice and slow.
I won't get to my destination with the quality of work I want to produce if I let my inner critic stay in control. I need to follow the other voice- the one I often call my intuition. My intuitive voice is the one that tells me to slow down and be curious. She knows that the time I spend sorting and sifting and trying new papers isn't wasted. When I follow my intuitive voice, it often looks like I'm just gathering wool-or rolling on my back in a patch of shade. But my intuitive voice is kind and encouraging. She doesn't get mad if I need extra time to work on one piece. As a matter of fact, she knows that this is how the best work will actually get made.
I know I'm not alone with these two opposing voices accompanying me in the studio. That's why when I teach, I don't like to focus on technique alone. It is just as important that we learn how to tune in to the right voice- the one called your intuition, and let it lead teach you how to trust your time on the artistic journey, especially when the heat is up in the studio.
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