In the last few posts, I've talked about working in ten minute segments, which was a challenge Kelly Kilmer posted HERE. But sometimes, even when you have a couple of hours, for whatever reason, things just don't click. That's when you have to relax and make up your mind to just be happy doing what you can.
A couple of urgent matters set me almost two hours behind schedule on Thursday, which for me is a real mojo drain. When I was finally able to get to it, it took all I had just to decide what would come next on this page. One thing I was sure I wanted to do was construct a bridge to unify the top stenciled portion of the page with the image of the planetary surface on the bottom. I let my brain rest with that thought while I chose a neutral colored architectural element that would compliment the scrolling lines of the stencil, and freehand cut another piece to use on the right side for balance. After that, it was fairly easy for my mind to conjure a border design that would echo parts of the top element and repeat it across the page.
I penned the negative lettering of the page's theme, and decided to put the date at the top. Just as I was making the date lines thicker, I was interrupted with news of three--yes three--serious traffic accidents which were backing up traffic with lengthy projected delays, and all of them on the route I would be taking to where I needed to be next. I had to leave immediately to take another, longer route which would get me where I needed to be. So the pen stopped moving and things were packed up and put away so I could head out the door.
Two hours was less than half the time scheduled for artwork on Thursdays. And usually, after two hours of work I have much more to show for it. But the time I spent was productive. In those two hours, decisions were made, problems were solved, and the general direction of the page began to emerge.
This was the opposite of accomplishing much in ten minutes. It was accomplishing less than usual in two hours. But the level of satisfaction and accomplishment were equal. As I said in this post HERE:
Feeling accomplished cannot be measured by time or weight. It's only measure is satisfaction.
With all the curves thrown that I had to catch and pitch back throughout the day, it was just as satisfying as if I'd finished a hundred pages. So I'll add "number" to my sentence above. Here's my revised declaration:
Feeling accomplished cannot be measured by time, weight, or number. It's only measure is satisfaction.
And here's what I have to say about my day, especially the early hours which kicked my muse out the door and exploded my mojo to smithereens:
Even when your muse has abandoned you and your mojo is shattered beyond repair; Even when after too much time looking and too much time thinking, you still don't know what to do, there's one answer to heals all artistic wounds. Touch your materials. Just that. Get them onto the table, pick them up, and turn them around. Draw anything. Glue anything. Things can always be glued on top. Or paint anything.Things can always painted over. Write anything. Things can always be glued, painted or written over. Just touch the things you work with. Then use them with no outcome in mind. Your muse will immediately get jealous that you're working without her. Your mojo will pull itself together instantly because it can't stand to be left out of a creative adventure. Especially one that starts out without any particular destination in mind.
Just do it. It's magic!