Again, I’m given a sliver, a miniscule snatch of time to indulge my arty-self and what do I do? Start the piece on his nursery wall… I think I may be broken?! I just can’t help myself.
It’s not finished yet, but the piece is coming along nicely, so, maybe sooner, rather than later…I may just escape out to my studio and do some art, just for me!
When I became pregnant, all dalliances with chemicals of any kind, came to an abrupt end. We needed to get all my weird and wonderful art stuff (read: tools, knives, paints, solvents, varying chemicals…basically everything fun & exciting in the world of art!) out of the house.
So, we began to build me a studio…I was ecstatic; a baby & an art studio? *fist pump* As my dreams started to grow in our backyard (and, in my belly!), I stood before a very daunting task, one all artists resist. The culling of the ‘maybe-i’ll-use-it-in-an-artwork-someday’ boxes of junk you have piled in a heaving, teetering pile of death…and, so it began.
It was worth it. I promise. Once you get started, you become ruthless! However, you also find things you never even knew you had. Bonus!
…but, emerging on the other side? Is a heart stopping, breath-hitching manifestation, of a level of organisation, never before achieved…oh, my young grasshoppers, I have reached the level of unattainable enlightenment!
My world tilted on its’ axis, careening wildly out of control… I went from indulging my every whim & my obsessions…thoroughly revelling in my chaotic existence to, well…complete cessation of all creative thought & artistic pursuits; it was an abrupt & rude awakening, distressing, to say the least!
I found the whole situation rather disquieting, I went from a singular focus, often painting for more than 20 hours at a time to nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada…and yet, I wasn’t quite as devestated as I envisioned myself to be. Imagine this…
Mine
Coloured Pencil on Paper
…perceived, rude intrusion, into your carefully balanced, albeit a little chaotic, world; however, simultaneously, your whole world no longer centres upon your wants, nay, needs (especially since, your creative endeavours are, in fact, the hinge upon which your sanity swings…) and, well, you’re just fine with that, in fact, you’re soul-wrenchingly, obliteratingly giddy with joy & you’re saturated with one of the deepest loves you’ll ever have the fortune to experience.
…and, here I am, eight months later, happily delving into my artistic darkness…and what comes swanning out of the shadows? Why, a drawing of him. Of course. I guess, I have a little way to go; to reclaim my mojo.
If you want to see my pre-pregnancy blogging work, visit my old site here.
Grae Hastings 