Today is my birthday: sixty six wondrous orbits of the sun. Many people comment that Life seems to turn up the screws around one’s birthday time, and it’s certainly been the case here.
About a month ago wonderingmind studio began being dismantled. Materials, paints, equipment disappeared into cartons. Some found their way to the art department of a local school for autistic kids. Some went to a charity that organizes art and creativity events for city youngsters.
Works-in-progress and completed pieces came down off the walls. Shelving was flat-packed, books sorted and passed on.
It was like packing up a life – which is exactly what it was.
And what a timely opportunity to take stock! I was over at Zen Dot Studio recently and found that its author is also in the midst of moving house. I loved the way she had penned her thoughts and observations about the moving process and all that it reveals, and wished I’d had more energy to blog my own. But it was all too exhausting at the time.
It’s one thing to move from one home/studio to a new one and quite another to pack up a life without knowing when – or where – it will emerge from the boxes again. My boxed life has gone into a storage unit. My unencumbered life is moving on.
It demands to be let loose again; the circumstances that constrained it for the past decade (caring for precious parents) have changed. There have been long months in that intense and deep place called Griefland, which I have come to understand is really a place of R & R. And of adjustment – to absence. It heals. Allowing the energies to bubble to the surface of the lifestream, embracing them and loving them, has worked wonders. The stream enters deeper waters, vast, silent, unknown. I know this ‘place’ – I call it the via creativa. Another chapter begins …
Joseph Campbell wrote that the reach of your compassion is the reach of your art. I feel that the gift of this past decade – the gift my ancient, beloved Mum and Dad gave me – was the swelling and bursting open of a heart that had become pretty dried up by life’s apparent disappointments. From a shriveled up pea it has slowly unfurled into a quivering flower. Its perfume is Compassion.
How will it express itself? Will there be more art-making? Perhaps. Meanwhile, it is reaching out to simply share. And so, I scribble on this little blog.