I can not seem to let myself get going this morning. I woke up early, went back to bed, then woke of late. The coffee was not right, I misplaced my keys, lost a favorite pen and could not, for the life of me, remember what it was that I like about Saturday mornings. I tried to do a pen & ink & for a while I thought it might turn out to be an an image of a fantasy square in France. It looks like a town in Mexico that has just suffered an earthquake.
So, my point is this. I am not able to take my own advise. If a client were telling me this rant of semi-miserable moodling, I would be incline to tell them to breath, or perhaps listen to a piece of quieting music. It did not work.
Then it dawned on me. I remembered that I was going to enter a piece in a juried art show. I do not know what possessed me to think that I could do this without a series of anxious moments followed by periods of critical remarks aimed at dissuading me from entering my piece of fluff. Nonetheless I did let myself do it.
The rest of the afternoon was surprisingly sane. What had been a fuzzy-like cotton ball head became clear. I remembered that this was the first time I had entered a juried show and it really made not difference if it was accepted, the mission this time around was to gear myself up for this next phase of the artful life. Now I had the experience of entering an art gallery and by so doing, I was drawing attention to myself as an artist. I am an artist. Wow! those ’em fightin’ words to my ego who insists on seeing me as a psychoanalysts.
Be clear about what I want, know what feeling I want when I have received what I want and place one foot in front of the other and move forward. Were I to have stopped myself every time that I feared a potential regret, I would have stayed locked in a cage of my making…
Congratulations, Al, nice job. I am proud of you for accomplishing this next step…Good luck with the show….