And the day came when the risk to remain
tight in a bud became more painful than
the risk it took to blossom.
Three days on the Sunshince Coast. A small white building looking out to a tall green mountain. Expansive star-lit nights. Vibrant blossoming gardens. Spring. Occaisional rain. Many contented moments spent looking out to the red bottle-brush flowers out my window; bending and swaying in the wind and sunshine.
I arrived to meditate with a contracted mind. Intense creative frustration erupted within every time I closed my eyes. So many vivid artistic ideas, yet so little manifestation. Such a great desire to create, yet overcome by a state of inertia. Slef-doubt thoughts inhibited my forward movement.
Gradually through hours of silence and self-observation my mind began turning around. Letting go of the desire to be someone, have something, or be somewhere I am not. Letting go of all my mind has told me I 'should' have accomplished by now. Remembering what I loved about art and music as a child: the freedom, the fun, the spontaneity and self-expression. The coming to life of thoughts, fantasies and visions, the joy of experimentation and dreams. Nothing too silly or too different. Everything ok. Everything welcome.
And so, I dedicate this sapce to letting go of needing creativity to look a particular way. I dedicate this space to self-acceptance, to embracing all the creative experiments making up the life of the artist. Big or small, happy or sad, childish or sophisticated, realised or in progress, conceptual or material, may they all feel welcome here.