again

I have known for a long time that I am intuitive artist. My hands usually know more than my mind. My heart must be fully engaged in what I am making. If I think too much, plan too much, the feeling that is brought to a piece dissipates. Often, it is only after the piece, or the series is done that I understand what was trying to come to light.

I know all of this. I’ve written about it.

But I got to thinking . . .  I should have more meaning in my art. I listened to videos and podcasts from artists talking about how they plan their work and the ideas that prompt it. Some artists study an idea they want to communicate and then make the work. It is imbued with meaning although it may not be immediately accessible to the viewer without reading about it. Once understood, though, the work takes on more power.

I thought, “I need to do that to be a stronger artist.”

I tried it. . . for months.

Pretty soon, I started to avoid the studio. My work felt stiff, and I got bored with it. I have a whole bunch of unfinished pieces laying around.

Finally, one day I took my frustration down to the studio and without thinking savagely tore up an unfinished piece. I liked the rough edges, the uneven contours. I started sewing it back together. As I worked, I calmed down. I remembered the rolling hills of the Palouse that inspired me a few weeks ago. I thought about movement and wind and change. I let the pieces come together as my hands wanted them to.

I love them. My heart is back together.

Why is it that I need to learn things again and again? Well, maybe it will sink in this time. My work is enough just as it is. And when I am letting my heart and hands lead the way, it always looks like me and no one else.