I have been away a bit longer than planned.  So rather than stay away and let the shadow of wanting to blog grow bigger and bigger, I’m going to reenter here with some rambling.  Sort of like getting your toes wet and then realizing you have to go ahead and dive into the waves or you’re going to spend the rest of the day on the beach.

Blogging is a nod to my writing self, who isn’t a major player in my art but who does like acknowledgement every now and then.  So of course I decided to start blogging at the same time I signed up for Patti Digh’s Project 137 for 2014 (through December 30), the 30-day challenge with Tea Silvestre at Story Bistro (September), and, as I have for 7 years now, Art Every DayMonth, every November, with Leah Piken-Kolidas.  I am either on a roll and it is time for inner writing girl to be upfront and forward, or I am crazy.

I think there’s more to it than that, though.

When I am under stress or confused about “what’s next” or in the middle of “man, is this uncomfortable”, I tend to get “busy” – I guess maybe that’s my way of dealing with stress.  If I’m really busy, I don’t have time to  obsess.  Except of course in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping.  So all of the above, plus working on my step risers (a bow to my inner artist child who actually holds all the keys to my life – have to keep her happy) lead me to believe that I am in transition.  And that all of the above will help me work through this transition if I pay attention.  Patti’s project is very introspective.  Tea’s is about on-line business – something I’m thinking about again.  Leah’s project is both a personal tradition, now,  and a loosening up of the critical artist eye, since making art every single day and being angsty about it doesn’t work.  I’m also buying books.  You know, the ones that are supposed to help you figure out the world and the way it runs.

And here I am writing my way to clarity, by writing it all out (with several paragraphs of explanation around the stress deleted since the particulars aren’t really the focus, it’s the overarching cycle that I want to pay attention to).

Interestingly enough, it was buying books this morning that clued me in on the transition thing. 

Patti’s project had a lovely video with Lauren Rosenfeld, author of “Breathing Room.”  It is ostensibly about clutter.  I adamantly resist all this decluttering fad that has been going on for years now specifically because “clutter” to me (being the visual person I am) is more about possibilities and art than something that drains me.  In fact, it can be down right energizing.  But the definition of clutter that is being discussed is not about things so much as it is about things that don’t belong.  It is about having an intention for the spaces in your environment and realizing that you are being dragged down by a misalighnment of intention and objects.  Fascinating!

Lauren talks about “accidental collections”:  28 boxes of teas, 12 shades of red lipstick.  We buy these things over time because we believe they are going to fix difficult emotions [this is basically the same concept as retail therapy].

Anyways, in participating with a meme on Facebook about naming 10 favorite books off the top of your head and naming 10 others to do the same, I found myself checking out some titles on Amazon, and wound up following a “you’ll like this” thread to 2 books that looked fascinating, weren’t to be had at the local library (always my first stop), and wouldn’t be good on Kindle if they were in fact as good as they sounded and

reviewed.  Let’s face it, for some of us, having paper books is required for on-going self-work.  Writing notes on Kindle is not the same as arguing with a concept in the margins of a paper book.

So anyways, after I ordered the books I wondered if my books were an accidental collection.  Remember I have just gone through and gotten rid of 2 bookcases of books and told myself I’d hold to one floor to ceiling bookcase, which is packed, and here I am ordering books.  Hmmm.

I didn’t cancel the order.  I really want to at least look at the books.  Maybe I’m not comfortable with my office being so pristine.  It doesn’t look like my space.  Or maybe I AM making accidental collections (although they will be purposeful from here on out now that I’m aware of that “belief that a thing or things are going to fix difficult emotions”).

I’d call that a tiny step of success.  Awareness is always good.

Here’s something from a dear FaceBook friend, written just last evening, that seems pertinent, so I’ll leave you with it:

“Nothing is better ignored. Everything conceivable longs to be heard, otherwise it can neither heal us or prepare us for the next voice.” Jacqualine-Marie Nunes Baxman