I am an artist without boundaries. Some days I write, other days I piece a quilt. Some days I heal wounded feelings and guide lost souls. I take photographs to reveal beauty where it is doubted. From time to time, I take a leap of faith and speak a truth without qualifying it (gasp!).
I have no boundaries. I write a blog on the very same day I take a walk in the park for no reason. I live in danger, from here forward, of being arrested for not coloring in the lines. I am daring like that.
Boundaries are good because they tell me where the world thinks I should not go. Some boundaries are a little more tricky, they are disguised as advice. They masquerade as timelines and somedays. But I am not fooled. Oh, I was fooled, mind you. I believed in rules and adherence was a virtue. For a very long time, I thought that lines made life secure, but now I know fences are just boundaries and I climb over them. I am a good neighbor like that.
Fences are the best boundaries ever made - because they are a dare, saying, "climb me, straddle me, ride me into the sunset" They are the tower of vision and from top of the fence post, I can see for generations. They have no sense of time. And while I am on the fence, people all around me panic that I am lost. They can't see I have simply become part of the eternal timeline. And that when they are blinking in despair for me, I have jumped down and explored a blade of grass and the dew clinging to it and returned to the fence for another view. In a blink of an eye, I have lived a lifetime and no one saw me jump down. Or scramble up again. They know that time is running out and show concern that I will 'never have it all'. 'That 'someday I will wish I had not sat on that fence'. So worried are they that they are surprised when I climb down to take their hand and explore the meadow with them. Timelines become fluid and somedays are everydays. Because boundaries are magical like that.
Boundaries are meant to be crossed. Ask the gatekeeper to allow you to pass through. Steal across a forbidden thought at midnight. Tend to a boundary and give safe travel to another artist, another soul journeying through timelines. Allow those that want to keep to the rules to keep to the rules. Break one or two when it means adventure. Risk when you feel passion and sit calmly within the lines when it is time to rest. Life is best like that.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Validation
I am a writer and a photographer and validation is a rare commodity. The trick, I am learning, is to not find my bliss in validation. Rather, to find my bliss in the day at hand. The blog written, the print finished, the friend who holds my hand.
Tom is away this weekend at a photographer's convention. A professional photographer's convention, the distinction of which may (or not) matter to you. It matters to us. Because, validation comes in many forms. From the customer, money paying givers of life. And from peers sharing drinks into the wee hours, celebrating artistic successes. Mostly it comes from the inner voices telling us, "This is why you do it. Well done. Do some more." Tonight Tom called to tell me he has done well. His images were well received and he ought to be coming home with a few more acrylic awards to remind us why he does what he does. But what was great was the tone in his voice. Believe me when I say, this man is talented and we don't need any stinking judges panel to tell us that. But man, it feels good to hear it anyway. And in his voice was the delicious sharing that happens between two old friends, two artists, two lovers, "Hey, babe. All four prints hung. The class went great - they seemed to hang on every word. And you were right, I could have taught for 4 more hours."
"I sure love you, honey."
I miss him when he is gone and, yet, the week before he goes, I could cheerfully strangle him. And, he, me.
After a day of errands, a little writing, a lot of doing life, I will get some of that rare validation to deposit in my pocket book of bliss. Because when Tom calls tonight to spin good night magic across the starry strands of universe into our bed, I will know that we are a team. That his victory is mine. That tonight when he reads my blog, the day will melt away for him. And he will whisper sweet everythings in my ear, "I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I can't wait to read your novel. Miss me a little more and I'll be home soon."
Bliss.
Tom is away this weekend at a photographer's convention. A professional photographer's convention, the distinction of which may (or not) matter to you. It matters to us. Because, validation comes in many forms. From the customer, money paying givers of life. And from peers sharing drinks into the wee hours, celebrating artistic successes. Mostly it comes from the inner voices telling us, "This is why you do it. Well done. Do some more." Tonight Tom called to tell me he has done well. His images were well received and he ought to be coming home with a few more acrylic awards to remind us why he does what he does. But what was great was the tone in his voice. Believe me when I say, this man is talented and we don't need any stinking judges panel to tell us that. But man, it feels good to hear it anyway. And in his voice was the delicious sharing that happens between two old friends, two artists, two lovers, "Hey, babe. All four prints hung. The class went great - they seemed to hang on every word. And you were right, I could have taught for 4 more hours."
"I sure love you, honey."
I miss him when he is gone and, yet, the week before he goes, I could cheerfully strangle him. And, he, me.
After a day of errands, a little writing, a lot of doing life, I will get some of that rare validation to deposit in my pocket book of bliss. Because when Tom calls tonight to spin good night magic across the starry strands of universe into our bed, I will know that we are a team. That his victory is mine. That tonight when he reads my blog, the day will melt away for him. And he will whisper sweet everythings in my ear, "I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I can't wait to read your novel. Miss me a little more and I'll be home soon."
Bliss.
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