plumgirl: (letsgettowork)
[personal profile] plumgirl
For the entirety of this year, I had wondered if my creative side had died a quick death thanks to the excessive work of last year and so many other things occurring that kept me from feeling any desire or energy to sit down and write. However, picking up a camera again this year has shown me that that particular artistic side isn't gone, it just has become impatient.

Photography is exciting because you can literally get the perfect shot within a few seconds. It amazes me that just having a good eye can result in the creation of a good shot. Five minutes set up. Many minutes of viewing pleasure.

Contrast that with the last few painted works I have placed out there. Six hours is a minimum to get something with depth on paper. But then the work put in goes upwards from there.

That said, the problem with painting and drawing is that when you are a person who wants to capture something and have it understood and appreciated, that one's technical limitations as an artist results in a sense of completed works not quite being "what you want", which then begets a sense of disappointment and then an increasing dissatisfaction with each work that doesn't meet the mark.

I no longer derive much joy from the complete work. Nor am I willing to sit another 4 hours on a piece to perfect lighting. And I think this shows. More disappointment, Self-denigration and discouragement . Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

The beauty of photography again is that realizing at the end of the day that you just had an okay, but not fantastic shot, and not being upset about it. Random error is expected. Perfection is not.


On the writing front, I haven't sat down and typed out any fragments of stories in many months. That too, I blame on being distracted with other entertainments and with work. Writing for me must occur from a quiet point within myself, when I can sit down and slowly build the world in my imagination from which I place characters and envision them running about like mad fools. I build visual sets in my mind ... akin to a sort of almost delirious form of daydreaming when it is at its most strongest.

However, lately it has been hard to find that perfect point from which to lightly leap off the cliff into imagination.

But somehow traveling this year has seemed to reset a lot of my thinking. Perhaps it was simply being taken away from the madness of everyday life. Or perhaps it's simply facing more white hairs this year than I know what to do with that has made me suddenly shift /cut/ and moderate my various distractions. Or perhaps its because I've started to stop treading water and want to make some changes .

I am not sure what is going on, but I feel like I'm poised to start writing again.

Bears. Fairies. Proud men. Lovely women. I want to write them all.
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