The Push and Pull or ( The Warp and Weft of the Creative Process)

fresh rug ends to tie

 So, I've been missing blogging.  I think my posts seem fewer and farther apart yet I'm feeling busier than ever.  I'm finding myself going in lots of directions but not making much head way in any one of those.  In attempt to save you from enduring a laundry list of projects and a much longer one of worries, concerns, and anxieties surrounding those projects, I'll cut to the chase.  Above is a stack of rugs that I finally finished weaving today and are waiting their ends tied up.  They'll be a colorful addition to the Pop-Up Studio happening at the end of the month.

I received rejection earlier this month to a show at South Bend Museum of Art.  Again there were about 8 artists out of 200 something that were accepted.  Still, it doesn't feel so great.  I want to keep working at my craft and continue to look for more projects and exhibition opportunities particularly those that are free and close to home. 

I have been accepted to paint a mini mural on the wall that supports the train tracks that bisect Oak Park.  I submitted my painting "The Red Chair with Cushion"!  It will be fun to paint a really big chair.  I'll be taking lots of pictures to document the process, and it looks like I'll be getting started soon (this weekend hopefully) because they would like it completed by June 1st.  Also coming up: completion of the Kindergarten Sing Collaborative Art Project and Pop-up Studio set-up and opening reception.

I've been devouring lots of radio discourse surrounding the creative process.  One of the questions asked is whether creating art is a selfish act.  I know that I constantly struggle to balance my work and everything else.  Sometimes I am very good at focusing on creating and very good at shutting the world out of my studio.  Other times, I'm feeling pulled out of my tunnel and into the wide open.  This is one of those times.  I don't know if it is the beautiful weather or the business of ending a school year or Pen's insatiable desire to be pushed in a swing higher and higher, but at a time when I should be finding my nose very close to the grindstone, I am catching myself smelling the lilacs instead.  In addition I have a mile long list of movies to see, books to read, and museums to peruse.  There is so much to digest, mull over, to question, and a garden to plant!

And now a complete non-sequitur:  You know that those mysterious cicadas who emerge only every 17 years with fluttering wings to sing and mate only to go subterranean again?  Some of them fail to count the years correctly and emerge too soon or too late and sing their lonely songs absent of their roaring friends.  I may need medication to recover from this utter sadness. 

Oak Park Arts Commission Mini Mural Project (I stole this photo from the web and am ignorant of artist)