Where’s That Big Big Energy?
I am suddenly exhausted. Drained. I don’t know how to describe this feeling. I have hit a definitive wall in my brain and my body has followed suit. Or something to that effect. What am I talking about? I don’t know, but let’s back up.
My contract work with Creative Portland has come to an end. The opening(s) were SO so good. I must say, I’ve missed this aspect of gallery life. You spend about a month planning a show, working with the artist or artists, you hang up the work, send out your marketing, and… wait! When the day comes, everybody glows. The art looks great, the space is spotless, and people dress nicely to support their person and their artwork. It feels really special! I just bask in the high of a shared respect that hums about the room, and for the vulnerability and patience that exists behind every art practice. I saw old colleagues and fellow artists. I met an artist new to the area who is accomplished in my own field of illustration, and can’t wait to get coffee with her.
It was a busy week that led up to a big TWO openings and then led into a crazy busy weekend. Saturday we hosted my folks in celebration of Ona’s birthday as the cap on a high tempo day. By Sunday morning I was toast. Ona was up twice in the night, too, which didn’t help. But it was more than your typical tiredness. I felt suddenly empty. I didn’t have anything left to offer. I felt bad watching myself, “Zombie Mom”, attend a birthday party for Ansel’s friend and the most interesting thing I had to talk about was Market Basket, which, to be fair, is amazing. People had said to give it a try and this past week I finally did. WELL, it’s way more awesome than I thought it would be! It was the Market Basket of my dreams.
But I digress.
I couldn’t help it! I felt so cringe, so uncomfortable in my own skin, trying my darn best to meet new parents and actually carry on a conversation when all I wanted to do was curl up into a cocoon and push the “off” button temporarily.
As an artist, I think this is natural. There is a wax and wane to your creative energy, to that special something that feeds you, and mine had suddenly run dry. I actually went home after said birthday party, and while Ona napped and Ansel watched a show I attempted a little painting and wow do I wish I had listened to my body. I looked at that poor little panel today and sure enough I had abused it with the most amateur brush strokes imaginable. Like, maybe I had actually napped, too! Zombie Mom strikes again!
But, hey, you can’t be “on” all the time, and the sooner I can admit that to myself and resist the temptation to create when I’m feeling bad, the sooner I can save myself some work at the tail end. I mean, sure create if you want to create, but don’t mess up a carefully prepped panel if you can help it!
So what did I do today? Today, May 8, the year of our Lord 2023 and year ONE for our Ona… I took all the time I needed to. I cleaned my home, I went to the gym, I walked the dog in the woods, and I did not pick up a paintbrush. It’s been a YEAR. I reflected on how far I’ve come, how far she’s come, and I made room for the hum of respect for myself, even when I’m cringe.
Next up, workshop prep!
